Revolutionary Moderation

What the hell is wrong with Edmonton?

I lived in Calgary two years ago, when the Calgary Flames went on their amazing trip through the Stanley Cup playoffs. Win after win, and at a certain point even after losses, 17th Avenue SW would fill with celebrants. One notable feature of that party? It was always peaceful, right to the end. The police were there, but never did a riot break out.

Now I live in Edmonton, where the local hockey team is performing above expectations, and well above results from recent years. Like the Flames two years ago, it's exciting for a city long-denied a contending hockey team. (One might argue that after five cups in seven years, fairness dictates that they have some bench time. I'll let people who give a crap about hockey make that argument.) So why can't this city celebrate the team without, you know, stabbings and riot cops?

Perhaps as residents of a labour city, Edmontonians are more used to confronting cops. Or from the other side of the calculation, perhaps the police are more ready to break out the riot gear, putting the screws to people simply for being out and about, perhaps drunk, perhaps disorderly.

Frankly, I don't much care. Either way, my dislike for living in Edmonton has been brought into stark relief. Which is all by way of saying, if anyone wanted to offer me an escape hatch in the form of a job anywhere else, I would have to consider it very seriously.

(Then again, another job right here in Edmonton which involved working normal business hours might provide me with a greater sense of perspective as well. Either way, I might be able to find the time and energy to start writing more regularly again.)