Something Shiny!

Ever since the Olympics ended, I’ve had the Canadian national anthem going through my head. As national anthems go, it’s really not that bad; it’s quite catchy, actually. Good thing, too, since I’ve been brushing my teeth in time to it, walking the dog in time to it, falling asleep and waking up to it. I’ve tried to push it out of my head with other music: Rodrigo y Gabriela, Joshua Radin, U2, Diana Krall, and even the Shaker Melody from Appalachian Spring. All to no avail: Canada, it seems, has sticking power.

My tendency on this blog is to really strictly limit the topics I talk about because… well, because I don’t want to alienate anyone. Not everyone shares my politics, and I want this to be a friendly space that everyone feels comfortable frequenting. But the problem with that, of course, is that I wind up talking about really safe, beige topics. I’m much more likely to talk about nothing than something, because something might be divisive. But today I’m going to shelve that because I want to talk about a touchy subject: abortion. Nothing quite as divisive as abortion, right? Talk about jumping right in with both feet. But seriously, I have an honest question here. I think I understand both sides of the abortion debate pretty well. But that understanding falls apart when it comes to selective reduction. Selective reduction is used when a woman has multiples (twins, triplets, etc) in her womb and she chooses to limit the number of them she’ll carry to term. It’s another form of abortion. But never have I heard of anybody making a fuss about selective reduction. Why is that?

Do you ever find yourself in an unintentional foot race with a stranger? You’re walking along the sidewalk, and suddenly the person to your right picks up her pace. She wasn’t walking that fast to begin with… was she? Perhaps you’ve slowed your pace inadvertently, so you speed up a bit. But somehow you’re still not catching up with her. You increase speed again. Your shins start to burn a little. At the moment at which you start to break a sweat, you realize how ridiculous the situation is. You shake your head at the sheer ludicrousness of the situation: race-walking a stranger. How silly! And then, just as you’ve given up (she’s got much longer legs than you, in any case), you see her smirk to herself. What the…? Was she…? No, surely not. But, just in case, you pick up your pace again.