To Poppy or Not to Poppy

When I walked into the Appleby Go Station today I heard singing! And it wasn’t somebody singing under their breath along with their Ipod. This was a loud, likely baritone, voice erupting throughout the station. Before even I turned the corner, I recognized some of the war-time hymns, from a book that I’m editing on the worst experiences of both World Wars. Next came the complete version of In Flanders Fields, word-for-word, without missing a beat.

What I saw as I rounded the corner was a line-up of people, waiting to have this older gentleman pin poppies on their lapels. A line-up! At just about every retail store I’ve worked at, we’ve kept boxes of poppies in donation trays by the cash registers. They usually went ignored until just a day or two before Remembrance Day.

Last year there was quite the debate on babble about whether or not to wear a poppy, which to some represents militarism, or to wear a white poppy instead, or to not wear one at all. I wore one last year, and now I am again this year, after I joined the line to pick one up this morning. I very much empathize with the debate, I don’t know if wearing a red poppy in 2007 can be directly related to supporting Canadian involvement in Afghanistan, at least not for me. (I might add that I would love a white poppy, but I have no idea where to find one.)

I think this post also comes from being completely engrossed in editing this war book right now, and spending hours upon hours selecting excerpts from books to use, scanning the National Archives for photos, and searching through letter, diary and memoir databases to find some personal stories to share.

It is just so nice to see somebody, in Burlington, doing something unique, grabbing people’s attention and really making a positive impact on hundreds of commuters in the morning. You see these things in Toronto and Ottawa all the time. People with personalities and causes and doing simple things to make huge impacts. You don’t see them in Burlington or Oakville. Instead you see perfectly-primped people, with briefcases in one hand and Starbucks in another, ignoring one another in a mad rush. I never felt such anonymity in Ottawa.

Speaking of Ottawa, I just filled out Ottawa Xpress’s “Best of” survey, which was thoroughly depressing. I think it’s just about time for a road trip!