Seeing Red

Our city is turning red. It began last year as a movement to show support for our troops in Afghanistan. Wearing red on Fridays was a visible demonstration of one's support, not necessarily in the war, but in the young women and men across the ocean who are fighting in it. The local dry cleaners promoted 50% off all red garments. I remember thinking that red was an odd colour. Weren't yellow roses more symbolic? To me, thinking of red at the same time as the war only brings to mind thoughts of blood spilled in the name of ???? and mental images of those poor sods who would never have the chance to make it back home.

Now, our city is pushing for more red as the Ottawa Senators advance even closer to the Stanley Cup. 'Let's paint the town red!' has become a battle cry. People are being encouraged to not only dress in red but to paint their cars and houses red too. Canada's lone team in the playoffs is fighting the good fight. The honourable fight. One isn't a true Canadian if one doesn't jump onto this particular bandwagon. The Stanley Cup even made a trip to Afghanistan somehow linking the work being done by the troops with the accomplishments of the players making up what has been recently dubbed Canada's Hockey Team.

Remember when red was a bad word? Images of evil commies worse than any Bogey man were conjured by that colour. Wasn't the saying 'better dead than red' a common truism? The liberal party resurrected the colour somewhat but after the many broken promises in the liberal red books, is it any wonder why the new liberal leader prefers to be known for the colour green?

Colours are evocative. I make a living mixing colours on stage. I play on people's emotions with the colours I choose. It worries me, however, how easy it is to get people riled up and ready to stand together behind one colour. One flag. One idea. The oversimplification of issues and the tendency to inflate ones emotional investment makes me tend to see red.

Red was bad.
Now red's good.

Two feet bad.
Four feet good.