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SUNDAY SPECTATOR
July 11, 2004
Three pieces
1.The Revolution began in a kebab shop on Queen Street. I was next in line during a brisk lunch trade. The gentleman ahead of me was being served from the trays while my order was to be taken at the cash register. He had his son with him -- a pair of fine upstanding Levantine people smartly turned out in crisp white shirts. (Proud to have them in my country.) The son whispered something to his father. The father then directed a request over the counter: "My son would like to have his donner without the lettuce. Is that possible?" "Er ... yes sir came the hesitant reply. We watched while a flaccid piece of tahini-soaked lettuce was methodically extracted, and self-consciously flicked into a bin. Um the father continued. Would it be possible to have no lettuce on mine either?" "Are you sure?" "Yes I'm sure. No lettuce please." I was distracted yet mysteriously emboldened. The cashier had to remind me to order. "A donner for me too." "What would you like on it?" "Everything. Especially lots of hot sauce please. Except ... no lettuce." >From immediately behind me a voice declared I don't want any lettuce either! And behind him No more lettuce! None of us wants lettuce! It was one of those moments like the fall of the Berlin Wall. We were all men citizens coming to a decision throwing off the yoke of oppression. For years decades we had pusillanimously agreed to having lettuce dumped in everything. Insinuated into every kind of bun or wrap; pushed towards us on side-plates. Suddenly we were all laughing together sensing our power and chanting No more lettuce! I imagined the chant passing through the door then being carried along the streets with banners; and by night the candlelight processions assembling in back lanes joining in the thoroughfares and the people marching in their glitter up Parliament Hill: "No more lettuce! No more lettuce!" Now I'm sure I'm going to hear from some lettuce-lover the moment this column appears. There are such people you know; the "salad eaters"; mostly anorexic women and emasculated men. But will they go to the wall for lettuce? I frankly doubt it. Nothing against salad per se. Give me a plate of spinach cut tomatoes in their season sliced pickled beetroot fingers of sharp cheddar cheese and Heinz salad cream: I would willingly eat that of a Friday. Nor would I wish to prevent someone eating his lettuce who insists. Live and let live I say; and I will keep my disgust politely to myself or natter only among my friends. I remain if reluctantly pro-choice on the subject of lettuce and would no more ban lettuce-eating in public than I would have the lettuce-eaters prevent me from smoking in a public bar. For is this not a free country? 2. I gather from the usual credible sources that Stephen Harper has told his caucus to tack to the Left. He thinks he lost the election because the people found his party not moderate enough; found it too far to the Right. He didn't say anything especially conservative during the campaign but who knows what he was thinking? He was accused of having a secret agenda. It was widely believed especially in Ontario that this leader of the Conservative Party was secretly harbouring conservative views. If the reader will consult my column from last Sunday he will guess what I think of this. Rise people rise! And repeat after me: "No more lettuce!" 3. A woman of my acquaintance writes that she joined the Catholic Church recently in fulfilment of A lifelong ambition involving the Truth, which has and will upset many people, but that some actually understand. I hope the Church will reward her with the example of robust faith manifested in splendid liturgy. Those who seek the Truth do not after all come to Mass to celebrate themselves. They come to step out of themselves into Truth. This surely is in the heart of Christ's Passion: "That you will know the Truth and that the Truth" ... will often upset people. Among pre-Christians Plato was rather brilliant in this regard. He grasped dramatically that for the very reason he sought the Truth and for no other Socrates got himself killed. And that is the Good News. It's a "funny old world" in the theological estimation of P.G. Wodehouse. To which let me add: No more lettuce! David Warren
© Ottawa Citizen
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