Bushwacked

George W. Bush ate dinner at Osteria De Medici last night. His five dining companions ate Alberta beef, but George decided on pasta.

This was deemed newsworthy by the Toronto Star, CBC and Canada.com.

It makes me mildly uncomfortable to know that one of the world's most reviled men spent yesterday evening in my neighbourhood, at a restaurant that I walk past almost daily. On the other hand, I've always found Osteria a bit pompous. I mean, c'mon. Who has valet parking in a strip mall?

Calgary, "perhaps the only city in Canada that would have him", was the first stop on Dubya's post-presidency speaking tour, a dubious honour at best. He spoke at a $400-a-plate, invitation-only, media-barred luncheon at the Telus Convention Centre. I didn't make the invitation list.

I first heard about Bush's impending visit in the Herald, but most of the reminders came from a fabulous group of people going by the name 'People Vs. Bush'. Over the past several days, they've organised a number of anti-Bush events, including a mock trial, a memorial wall, a rally and a film festival, and garnered a fair amount of media attention in doing so. (They actually invited Swallow-a-Bicycle to take part in the mock trial, but unfortunately I got the message too late.)

The protest rally on Stephen Avenue started at about 11:30 this morning. When I had arrived at work, a few hours earlier, the street was already swarming with police and well-dressed men in shiny black cars. When 11:30 hit, Johnny and I decided to check out the action.

As we approached, we could see that Stephen Ave was packed. We stopped before crossing Macleod ("There's no way I'm jaywalking," said Johnny, staring pointedly at the police van next to us) and, as we stared across the street, it was obvious that there were two distinct groups filling the street.

First, and most colourfully, were the protestors. They had signs and banners, demanding the truth behind 9/11 and justice for the victims of a reckless regime, denouncing illegal wars and state-sponsored torture. One woman was dressed like a Guantanamo prisoner, standing next to an elastic-propelled "shoe cannon". They chanted "Go home!", "Criminal!" and "Shame on you!"

Then, outnumbering the protestors almost 10-to-1, were the luncheon's attendees, stretched out in a line that started at the Convention Centre doors and went all the way down the block, then around the corner. Due either to massive oversight or sadistic planning, the luncheon's security measures had slowed entrance to a crawl. Access to the building was limited to a single door, and guests were subjected to searches so intimate that, when they were proved weaponless, they went scrambling for the wine bar to help forget the ordeal.

As a result, several hundred of Calgary's wealthiest citizens were left outside, single-file, waiting in the cold, being heckled, chastized, jostled and booed by passionate objectors.

Walking down that line was a surreal and somewhat terrifying experience, like walking past a living chain of cut-out dolls. The attendees were almost completely demographically homogenous: the vast majority were Caucasian men, between the ages of 40-70, and wearing identical navy-blue business suits.

If these are the people tugging on Calgary's political puppet strings, it's no wonder this city sometimes drives me fucking insane.

The reports say that over 1,500 people paid $400 a head to attend the luncheon, a fact that makes me ashamed and disgusted to call Calgary my home. Where is that money going? What about that man makes him worth a $400 ticket, makes him worth standing in the cold, being heckled by two hundred protesters?

In Johnny's neighbourhood, people had glued Bush's face to the soles of old shoes, tied them together and tossed them over phone lines. For the past several days, whenever he looked up, there was an unmistakable statement: "You're not welcome here."

This morning, Johnny opened his door to discover all the shoes had vanished. "They can't clear the snow off our streets," he grumbled, "but heaven forbid they offend George W."

Apparently Aldermen John Mar and Ric McIver were inside the luncheon, while I spotted Druh Farrell and Joe Ceci outside with the protestors. It occurs to me that the alderman I like (Farrell, Ceci, Pincott) must have a pretty damn hard job. Thank you, councillors, for your ongoing work.

In fact, Farrell and Ceci were among the only familiar faces in the crowd. I ran into Karen Ball from CADA, but... that was about it. I didn't even see Grant Neufeld! (though I'm sure he was there)

I was surprised. I had expected to see throngs of my artist friends, outraged that this war criminal was being welcomed in our hometown.

Now, granted, I was hardly committed to the protest myself. I wandered through the crowds, made some snide comments as I walked past the luncheon line-up, grabbed a breakfast wrap at Jugo Juice, and went back to work. As I walked back to the OYR office, I wondered, why wasn't I there in the midst of it? Why wasn't I hoisting a placard, yelling "Criminal!" with the rest of the crowd?

I don't know.

I hate the actions that Bush took while in office. I hate that he deemed Calgary to be the friendliest place for his first post-presidency appearance. I hate basically everything he represents. But somehow, the appeal of Excel spreadsheets and final reports overpowered my righteous outrage.

So that's me. What about you?

Why weren't you there?