THIS IS HALIFAX

I believe I passed four sets of police cars, sirens blaring and lights flashing today, going about my daily business (kids, school, school, shopping, school, kids, kids, swimming, kids, supper). I remember joking about it last summer, that this place has become like Harlem via Hollywood, and somebody else retorting that probably the police use the sirens when they’re late for their Tims, because really, what is going on in Halifax? What’s with all the screeching and flashing? Look at the local newspaper- the headline is about how people are upset because the shops have put out their Christmas decorations too soon following Halloween, and really, it’s not the proper time yet for Christmas. No, really, it isn’t. Apparently there was genteel rioting on at the Spring Garden Shoppers because they started playing Christmas carols and, really, it’s too soon, so please stop it. Those were the headlines. There is the concern that people will forget about Remembrance day if we start on Christmassy stuff too soon. Yes, really.

Anyway, my point is, nothing is supposed to happen in Halifax, and if something does (Blue Oyster Cult, anyone?) everybody resolutely ignores it. So what’s with all the police cars and sirens?

This is not the gentle sleepy ocean-side town we migrated to in 2008. We have rush hours now.  This being Halifax, the rush hour starts at 3:30 and lasts until 5:30, but still. Genuine traffic jams lasting for ten minutes at Robie and Quinpool.  Police cars, police cars everywhere. They do not make me feel safe, au contraire. I have never felt unsafe in Halifax. Everybody I ever meet is so respectful and polite- I have never felt physically threatened or unsafe ever, in Halifax, so I am not quite sure what all these police are protecting me, a law-abiding citizen, from, in this small town which has never made me feel uncomfortable.  They give me an uneasy feeling that something is happening which I ought to know about, but I don’t. Some invisible crime is happening. There some lurking danger which I can’t see, which I don’t know about, and neither do the newspapers or anybody else.

I should move to smaller towns, probably, where there is the only one Constable Plod. I wonder how the princess would like that.

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