Whoah. At last, a little breathing room. I'll sit here and tap out an item while feeling all mellow on this long weekend (Victoria Day is on Monday in Canada) early Saturday afternoon. Pretty soon we're going to head out, taking the subway to a certain point and then walking along a picturesque avenue, until we get to a highly rated but-not-too-expensive Portuguese restaurant I found on the internet. It'll be a celebration for Charity, who, as some of you know, recently made it successfully through her dental hygiene program.

What am I reading these days (to change the subject)? Well, recently I pulled one of my used, unread books about the Civil War, called The Day Lincoln Was Shot by Jim Bishop, off the shelf. It was first published in 1955, when I was five years old and just starting first grade (a little early because my mother thought it was a good idea--but it probably wasn't--and she had me get tested to prove I was smart enough. The test, as I recall it, consisted of putting variously shaped and colored blocks on a string in the same order that someone else had just put them. Man does my mind ever wander these days...).

Anyhow, the Lincoln book. It's fascinating. They are events close enough in history that the record is pretty accurate. Also it's close enough that I feel at least a small personal, if distant, connection. My mother recalls listening to old, bearded great uncles who were Civil War veterans for the Union speak reverently about "Mr. Lincoln."

One thing that stands out is how unsophisticated the United States was in those days. Instead of the Secret Service, the government had some Washington cop (with a horrible service record) serving as Lincoln's bodyguard on the evening Lincoln was assasinated. During the performance at the the Ford Theater, this jerk got bored, left his post outside the presidential box, and went out for a drink.

Also, the lock on the presidential box had been broken and no one had bothered to fix it. When John Wilkes Booth showed up (at the precise moment in the play when he knew everyone would be laughing) he was able to walk right in to the box and perform his evil deed.

Actually, interestingly enough, the USA back then reminds me quite a bit of the way Canada is now. For one thing, the population of the USA in 1865 was around 31 million. In Canada today, it's 33 million. With that number of people, the chances of a person being able to rub shoulders with one of the top people in government is greater.

Also, security arrangements for the Prime Minister of Canada today remind me a little bit of security arrangements for the president back then. A few years ago, some guy with a knife got over the fence at the prime minister's mansion in Ottawa (the Mounties on duty didn't notice) and ended up outside the bedroom door of Prime Minister Chretien. (His wife went to see who it was, carrying some blunt object or other...)

Again to change the subject, I was also going to mention another book I'm reading, by Eugene Peterson, the Bible translator behind The Message. It's A Long Obedience in the Same Direction and I've been reading a little every day while riding transit to work. Suffice it to say that it's "the best". I had a lot I was going to say about it but right now seem to be have run out of steam. I'll leave it for another time (maybe).

For all you Canadians, have a happy Victoria Day weekend!

(And for you Yanks, have a happy Weekend Before Memorial Day!)