Paranoia, or stupidity?...

As I was out for a stroll this morning around the shores of Wascana Lake with my sweetie Lisa Brownstone, she posed an interesting and provocative question:  "Have you ever tried to access your RCMP file through the Freedom of Information Act?"

Well, in fact I had not, though I do remember a number of discussions over the years with various friends, associates and comrades. I'm not sure if any of the rest of the old gang might have, though we all speculated that it would make for interesting and probably amusing reading. On the other hand, we all figured that even initiating the process to retrieve those files would most likely attract renewed attention from CSIS, the RCMP and other even more secretive government agencies.

There have been a number of events in our collective history that undoubtedly prompted some of these surveillance activities, from the Peterborough Examiner strike in 1968 and '69, the alleged assault on the American Consulate in Toronto on May 9th, 1970 during the Vietnam War protests, to the surprise launch of Canada's first cruise missile, hoisted aloft into the rotunda of the Saskatchewan legislature by 81 green helium-filled balloons on March 17th, 1983. And let us not forget some of the other social justice movements, such as the blockades at the peace camps at Clayoquot Sound on Vancouver Island in the mid-90s protesting the logging of old growth forests or the renewed anti-war protests prior to the invasion of Iraq in 2003.

In retrospect, there were hundreds of political and cultural opportunities to gather photographic documentation, wiretap evidence and informers' notes. Who knows what was real, what was paranoid speculation and what was just sloppily and inaccurately interpreted? Some of us may recall the 1970 national convention of Canadian University Press in Naramata where, with government agents lurking about, the legendary band Running Dog and his Electric Lackies, along with the Red Wobbly Chorus, opened their New Year's Eve concert with readings from Chairman Mao's little red book, in Swahili no less, to the tumultuous applause of the young journalists in attendance. What were they thinking?!?! How well did they dance? What did it all really mean?

I've often wondered what might be in Roddy's file. I'm sure he did too. Yes. there was a lot more to him than baseball. Without Roddy's sudden reappearance in Waterloo in the spring of 1969 with a case of fireworks under his arm, we would have had a much more difficult time celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Winnipeg General Strike on May 19th with all the flair, colour and exhuberance that it deserved. And then of course, there was Roddy's critical role in helping to clear a path for demonstrators during the May 9th anti-war rally the following year in Toronto, when he moved a few poorly-placed garbage cans out of the way. I'll bet there's some great stuff in Roddy's file. We all miss him. Always a bit cantankerous and sometimes a pain in the ass, Roddy was a Dumont original, ready to work or play, but not so good when it came to the dishes. He was thoughtful, sometimes moody, he never would have called himself an anarchist, but had very personal perspectives on revolution and his critique of capitalism. There's gotta be some great little anecdotes in Roddy's file, both legitimate and outrageous fantasy.

We all have some interesting colour in our past. After all, we lived through some colourful times. Sober reflection is always useful, and instructive. Rosco mentioned a few months ago in this blog that perhaps we need to embellish some of those tales of our individual and collective adventures. I figure there's no need: others may have already done it on our behalf, and truth can certainly be stranger than fiction. Bring on the poets, and the story-tellers! And remember the words of that immortal sage John Lennon, "All you need is love!"