In the summer of 1969, I was a freshly minted airman on my way to my first duty station.  As fate would have it, my route took me from my hometown in Buffalo, New York past the site of the famous Woodstock festival on the very weekend it happened.  Since my taste in music and stupefacients differed from the attending crowd, I passed by with barely a nod.

My mom's brother Bob and his wife Betty lived just north of New York City and not far from Woodstock.  It made a comfortable stop on my way to the base at the far end of Long Island.  After settling into our visit, I was surprised at how their interest in the festival contrasted with my indifference.  Bob was a corporate muckety-muck, and he and Betty were impressed that 300,000 kids could gather peacefully for a weekend.  They both marveled at the impossibility of 300 businessmen being able to match that.

Today, we have a similar moment.  Woodstock caused its own great reset.  Support for the Vietnam war was waning, and the echoes from that Woodstock weekend shook the remaining pillars.  Despite a change in politicians, it was plain the game was over for those in power.

Canada's truckers have shaken a traumatized world in a similar way.  Canadians, confined for two years, are suddenly seizing their freedom to associate with one another.  I heard one woman remark how she suddenly realized how beautiful people's faces are.  In this moment, unlike Woodstock, the participants are adults who are comfortable enough to bring their kids to Ottawa to tell the world they are reclaiming their freedom.  They also appear mostly sober and serious.

However, despite the gravity of the moment, they are joyful, playful, and loving in the truest sense of the word.  As the media, led by the once admirable Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, heap relentless calumnies and accusations on the participants, ordinary citizens like David Freiheit and the anonymous ZOT are strolling among the crowds, live-streaming as they chat easily with people who exhibit both the joy and resolve of newly freed prisoners determined to end the confinement once and for all. 

Despite the accusations of libelous newsies and their political sponsors, the citizen cameras have yet to uncover anything resembling the scandalous lies clogging the malignant mainstream media.  Instead, the crowds are composed of Canadians of all colors and orientations.  They are hugging one another, dancing, jumping, and just happy to be together, and as many have said, proud to be Canadians after years of doubting their both neighbors and their nation.

It is this infectious joy that conquers tyrants.  While truckers and others involved in convoys across Canada are playing a potentially dangerous game of chicken with authorities, it is the smiles and joy that are acting like an invisible shield keeping away the clubs and tear gas.  Ubiquitous cameras don't hurt, either.  With notable unfortunate exceptions, the cops have so far maintained their restraint.

On this side of the border, there have been some indications of a similar movement.  I've seen some impressive people make compelling arguments against our own imprisonment.  However, this is not the time for anger, no matter how much we may thirst.  To succeed, this moment must be dominated by our smiles.  We need to capture the energy and essence of our friends across the border.  Our good natures will win the day in the same way Bob and Betty were won over by the peaceful chaos of Woodstock.

Our tyrants want angry confrontation.  They thirst for video like that coming from Paris this weekend.  Don't give it to them.  As someone said long ago, if we can't do it with love in our hearts and smiles on our faces, don't do it at all!

Image: ΙΣΧΣΝΙΚΑ-888.