Walden Cabin: Observations typed on an old Underwood

September 27, 2001

Me and Joe Who

Dear Joe:
I just resigned as a member of the Progressive Conservative Party! That’s a big thing for me, yet I feel almost giddy with the possibilities of my new freedom. You see, you and I, we go way back.

We first met in at a rally 1979, when you were campaigning with Mel Gass in Charlottetown. You were fighting the Trudeau Liberals. I was an eleven year old with what my family considered to be an odd passion for politics. A few weeks later, you won a minority government. As PC Leader in our grade six mock election the same day, I lost by one vote. I'll never forget that day. It's tough to fight a primary school election on issues, but I had tried my best, and was defeated by a Charlottetown city kid in what turned out to be a grandiose grade six popularity contest. My grandmother consoled me in the crush of defeat by suggesting that in politics, honest people of substance ultimately triumph over opportunism and superficial popularity. That was a big message for a pre-teen, but it has stuck with me.

Since then, the PC Party has always had a place in my heart – even when one dared not speak the name “Mulroney”. I know, that sounds silly, but I suspect you understand. Recently I have felt a certain despair at the sell-out of the political process to crass opportunists who clearly have a limited vision of how Canada's future should be shaped. To combat the trend, I joined the fight last year, and volunteered for your Party in my riding. It didn’t take long to get in deep, especially since most of the “regulars” were watching from the sidelines to see if you and yours would sink or swim. As it was, it seems, all we did was tread water.

Which brings me to my resignation. I have done it for two reasons: 1) I have to admit it, I’m not a conservative. WOW, it feels so Good to realize and say that! I’m tired of hearing people define my country in terms of dollars and cents, to the detriment of those who have neither; and 2) I’d like to keep my childhood image of you intact. You see, Mr. Clark, you are something of a hero to me. I’d still like to believe you are one of those people of substance my Grandma was talking about … but if you are, you are in the minority in your party.

Thanks for the memories, Joe. I wish you luck.

posted by Stuart Hickox | 2:22 PM

Monday, September 24, 2001

The call came this afternoon at about two o'clock. I was just about to copy a Tom Waits CD for Lowell (because he's a big fan of Harry Connick Jr., and the music is similar) when I was interrupted. The news was bad: Dad's cancer is in his brain. He has lost the use of his right arm, and is on morphine. The doctors give him less than three days to live. Three days. I knew as soon as I answered the phone that it was bad news. Aunt Louise has never called me, and her voice said it all. "Did you hear? Has anyone talked to you, dear?"

Aunt Louise is a sweet lady. Like her siblings, she has been something of an enigma for the three decades I have known her. Lately she has blossomed, however, and has let her soft, sensitive side show. People attribute the change to the recent end of her marriage. Uncle Leo was a real jerk. Now that we're both parents, Aunt Louise periodically sends me great never-before-seen photos taken of me as a toddler at the family farm in Glen Valley. Those days, her dad was still alive. Grandpa died of cancer at 69. At the time, people said he was too young to die. My dad is 61.

I told Aunt Louise that I really didn't want to come back to PEI. After all, I was just there last week! I thank God I was able to spend the last week with Dad, but the thought of going back is really painful right now. In the only light moment of the call, Aunt Louise responded, 'Yeah, well we don't want to see you either." It's wierd to laugh and cry at the same time, especially over the phone long distance with someone you don't really know all that well.

It's pretty clear that everyone would rather be doing something else. But that's just life. Sometimes it just really sucks. Dad has remained very strong and positive through this five-month ordeal, and it's hard to imagine how he can get through it without railing against the unfairness of it all. I'd like to think he's at peace, but maybe it's just denial. What makes me sad is thinking of the lost opportunity. Jasper will never be able to play with his Grandpa ... but he will know him. I will make sure of that.

posted by Stuart Hickox | 4:31 PM



	September 27, 2001 Me and Joe Who Dear Joe: I just resigned as a member of the Progressive Conservative Party! That’s a big thing for me, yet I feel almost giddy with the possibilities of my new freedom. You see, you and I, we go way back. We first met in at a rally 1979, when you were campaigning with Mel Gass in Charlottetown. You were fighting the Trudeau Liberals. I was an eleven year old with what my family considered to be an odd passion for politics. A few weeks later, you won a minority government. As PC Leader in our grade six mock election the same day, I lost by one vote. I'll never forget that day. It's tough to fight a primary school election on issues, but I had tried my best, and was defeated by a Charlottetown city kid in what turned out to be a grandiose grade six popularity contest. My grandmother consoled me in the crush of defeat by suggesting that in politics, honest people of substance ultimately triumph over opportunism and superficial popularity. That was a big message for a pre-teen, but it has stuck with me. Since then, the PC Party has always had a place in my heart – even when one dared not speak the name “Mulroney”. I know, that sounds silly, but I suspect you understand. Recently I have felt a certain despair at the sell-out of the political process to crass opportunists who clearly have a limited vision of how Canada's future should be shaped. To combat the trend, I joined the fight last year, and volunteered for your Party in my riding. It didn’t take long to get in deep, especially since most of the “regulars” were watching from the sidelines to see if you and yours would sink or swim. As it was, it seems, all we did was tread water. Which brings me to my resignation. I have done it for two reasons: 1) I have to admit it, I’m not a conservative. WOW, it feels so Good to realize and say that! I’m tired of hearing people define my country in terms of dollars and cents, to the detriment of those who have neither; and 2) I’d like to keep my childhood image of you intact. You see, Mr. Clark, you are something of a hero to me. I’d still like to believe you are one of those people of substance my Grandma was talking about … but if you are, you are in the minority in your party. Thanks for the memories, Joe. I wish you luck. posted by Stuart Hickox \| 2:22 PM Monday, September 24, 2001 The call came this afternoon at about two o'clock. I was just about to copy a Tom Waits CD for Lowell (because he's a big fan of Harry Connick Jr., and the music is similar) when I was interrupted. The news was bad: Dad's cancer is in his brain. He has lost the use of his right arm, and is on morphine. The doctors give him less than three days to live. Three days. I knew as soon as I answered the phone that it was bad news. Aunt Louise has never called me, and her voice said it all. "Did you hear? Has anyone talked to you, dear?" Aunt Louise is a sweet lady. Like her siblings, she has been something of an enigma for the three decades I have known her. Lately she has blossomed, however, and has let her soft, sensitive side show. People attribute the change to the recent end of her marriage. Uncle Leo was a real jerk. Now that we're both parents, Aunt Louise periodically sends me great never-before-seen photos taken of me as a toddler at the family farm in Glen Valley. Those days, her dad was still alive. Grandpa died of cancer at 69. At the time, people said he was too young to die. My dad is 61. I told Aunt Louise that I really didn't want to come back to PEI. After all, I was just there last week! I thank God I was able to spend the last week with Dad, but the thought of going back is really painful right now. In the only light moment of the call, Aunt Louise responded, 'Yeah, well we don't want to see you either." It's wierd to laugh and cry at the same time, especially over the phone long distance with someone you don't really know all that well. It's pretty clear that everyone would rather be doing something else. But that's just life. Sometimes it just really sucks. Dad has remained very strong and positive through this five-month ordeal, and it's hard to imagine how he can get through it without railing against the unfairness of it all. I'd like to think he's at peace, but maybe it's just denial. What makes me sad is thinking of the lost opportunity. Jasper will never be able to play with his Grandpa ... but he will know him. I will make sure of that. posted by Stuart Hickox \| 4:31 PM				(09.30.2001) (09.27.2001) Joe, that's who. Charlottetown, 1979, with Valerie (left) and Stuart Hickox. See Me and Joe Who (below). See previous cover photos. Lowell Franklin Hickox: Stag Party 2001. A boat, a bunch of Newfies, and a blow-up doll. Click here for the uncensored stag album. Jasper is live on Jasper Cam most mornings and in the early afternoon. Keep an eye on the toy box! Updated - September 12, 2001 Head for the Hills of Prince Edward Island Walden Cabin >> "I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, to front the essential facts of life and to see if I could learn what they had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) Walden; Or Life in the Woods (08.21) Walden Cabin is a publishing creation of Accolade Intermedia, an Ottawa-based communications company that specializes in content-rich Web products. www.accolade.ca >>
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