I continued to watch her, and just a little further up the street she joined a small group of 20-something women waiting for her on the sidewalk. They were beautiful and happy, these women. Smiles were their default setting, and as they stood there in a semi-circle chatting with one another and comparing the signs they’d made for the Women’s March, they seemed so full of light as to very nearly be glowing. They were going off to do something important,  they were going to try to influence the world rather than merely survive in it, and knowing that made me hopeful and proud.

I didn’t actually attend the Women’s March. I was a little bit uncertain if it was my place to be there or not, and so I stayed home and watched from the sidelines. But I should have known just from looking at these women, from the way they genially accepted my clumsy thumbs up from the window, that I would have been entirely welcome.

Millions of people, it turned out, rose to this occasion, millions were welcome.

All through the day my social media streams were flooded with images from the marches. As I was following via Facebook and Twitter, I was seeing the feeds of people I knew and loved, so they were not strangers to me, but real people– warm, intelligent and kind people with complicated and sometimes difficult lives. It was their faces, and those of their daughters and sons and partners that were looking back at me from my computer monitor, and regardless of how heavy or congested their lives might have become, there they were, all so beautiful and strong and joyous.

And in spite of the sneering rhetoric that’s been the baseline of our daily lives for so long now, the marches had a celebratory, almost parade-like quality. They were happy places, and they opened up a new space, one that allowed us the opportunity to pause and breathe deeply for a moment. 

It was incredibly moving to watch this, cathartic even, and I am not overstating things when I say that I felt like something essential had just changed in the world.

For one day our concerns and anxieties were blown away like bad weather and we felt safe and protected, encircled by a good that was spreading out in concentric circles. And everywhere you looked, you saw one of your better angels smiling back at you, there they were, thousands and thousands and thousands of them, building that shining city on the hill.

I am now boycotting all of Trump’s luxury properties and hotels,

and have donated my, “You’re Fired!” t-shirt to charity. I don’t just believe in talking about change, I believe in being the change, and so instead of complaining about fascism on my Facebook page, I’ve started to picket the Trump International Hotel and Tower.

This is my journal:

Day 1:

Too cold. Stayed home and watched A Very Murray Christmas on Netflix. An instant classic.

Day 2:

Still chilly, but realized that the world isn’t going to change itself, so dressed in layers and headed down to Bay Street with my picket sign.

Teenager on subway asked me what my sign said.

“You’re a Chump if you support Trump.” I said, adding, “You’ve got to fight the power, you know? You have to BE the change!”

The teenager said, “Your sign says, “You’re a Trump if you support Chump.”

I looked at the sign and saw that he was right, and then asked him, “Well, if you knew what it said in the first place, why’d you ask me?”

The teenager shrugged.

Stayed on subway until it arrived back at the stop I had started at and went home.

Day 3:

Pleasant day. Maybe 10 degrees.

Took an Uber cab to the hotel and began my protest.

The first person who walked out of the hotel was a woman wearing a beautiful sundress, a winter scarf that must have fallen from heaven and a cowboy hat. She smelled like the most impossible music and was so blindingly gorgeous that I dropped my sign.

As she stepped into a waiting limo, I cried out, “I would build a wall around all of Mexico for you, I would make America strong again!” but I think maybe she was mute, as she did not respond.

I don’t remember much else from that day

Day 4:

Woke up and meditated hoping to receive wisdom and light to become better protestor.

I then went down to hotel committed to be the best protestor I could be.

I began to pace in front of the building chanting, “Dump-Trump, Dump-Trump, Dump-Trump!” Although I got the words mixed-up quite a bit, several cars honked, which I took to be signs of support.

Had lunch.

Feeling in the zone, I began to protest again but then got a text from my wife reminding me to pick up my blood pressure medication, and so I went off to the store to make sure I got there before it closed. Took my blood pressure while waiting. 120/70.

Not bad! Got my pills and a lotto ticket and headed home.

Day 5:

Took Uber down to hotel again. Talked to the driver about fascism. He agreed about its dangers. (I feel I am changing the world one little bit at a time!)Gave him a five star rating.

Today I proved an inspiration. As I believe we have to unite as one against Trump, I was delighted when a street person joined in my protest. She might have had her difficulties, but she was a very spirited, loud and creative chanter! Said her name was Parking Lot, because that’s where she did most of her work, and that Trump was a “Fuck Roach.”

Me: Thanks so much for sitting down with me.

Jane: It’s my pleasure, jobs, justice and particularly climate change are the defining issues of our times, and with what little time I have left, I want to do all I can to bring attention to them.

Me: Of course, of course. Nice hat, by the way—I think it says, “Let’s Change The World Now!” At any rate, you said, “with what little time I have left,” how old are you?

Jane: I am 77 years-old, and fortunately I’m in good health and have lots of energy, so I’m very hopeful that I can keep using my celebrity to bring attention to these causes before it’s too late.

Me: My mother is 77 years-old and she doesn’t look anything like you. Practically a different species.

Jane: I’m sure your mother is a very, very lovely woman, although looking at you I’d think she was much older than 77. But anyway, I’m from Hollywood and I’ve had so much work done I’m practically a cyborg.

Me: Ha!! A sex-cyborg! That’s funny! I’d love to see a Jane Fonda sex-cyborg. I hope the Japanese invent one after you’re dead. But back to the interview. You can imagine how confusing it was for me growing up to have you on one hand, a hot star I wanted to have sex with, and my mother on the other hand– and both being the same age! Very mixed-up– still am, I guess!!

Jane: Well, I hope you got some help for that. That’s one of the good things about Canada, it has universal health care so that people with mental illnesses such as yourself, can be treated.

Me: I loved you in Barbarella. When you made that film, did you have any idea how many strip clubs in North America were going to name themselves Barbarella’s? There must be hundreds, probably thousands.

Jane: The sex industry is a very complicated one, but what is clear is that women should have the right to do what they want with their bodies, be it free choice, stripping or prostitution. We need to enact laws to protect and empower women so that they’re in control of their bodies and lives, treated fairly and in a safe environment.

Me: Okay, good point. This one is a three-parter: Is acting a form of prostitution? Does Hollywood treat women fairly? Do you have sex with all of your leading men, or women, such as the case may be?

Jane: Yes, I think that acting is a form of prostitution, and…

Me: I have never in all of my years been to a prostitute. Never had to pay for it.

Jane: As I was saying, Hollywood has a long, long way to go before men and women are treated equally, particularly older women. Once you hit a certain age, the roles just vanish and you become invisible!

Me: Which is why you’re at a rally in Canada instead of, saying, selling aerobics videos

or starring as a lawyer or sexy, mean matriarch in some movie. I get it. They say that women in Hollywood have a best before date, a point where they become unfuckable. Do you think you became unfuckable, and if so, at what point in your career? Maybe Stanley and Iris or Monster-in-Law?

Jane: (Gets up and leaves)

**************************************************

Heidi been really fucking cold all winter.

Really, really bad.

Heidi not have big, messy coat of fur, all ragged and knotted and ugly, but very neat, sheer coat that perfectly outline Heidi’s athletic body. Think tights, but only for all of Heidi. Very sexy.

Bad part about having crazy sexy coat of fur is it not very warm! Heidi cold all the time. Not superficial cold, like cat, but real, to the bone dog cold. Heidi shiver. Want to live in sun! Can’t stop shaking, and then squirrels think Heidi scared, but Heidi not scared, Heidi never scared! Heidi just really, horrible ice cold!!  Heidi really hate stupid squirrels. All so fat right now. No pride in appearance. Heidi never let herself go like squirrels. Squirrels just tree garbage.

Cold really ruining quality of Heidi’s life, so said, “screw it,” and went out and bought a Canada Goose parka. It red.

Make Heidi look a little fat, but Heidi as cozy as if wrapped in duvet! Best thing ever! Make Heidi happy!

Heidi out for walk the other day in new parka and see all sorts of two-leggers in line. Angry two-leggers. Holding tree bits and yelling as if everything they see was a Bad Dog!!

And then they look at Heidi and they yell at Heidi!! Why?! Why yell at Heidi!? Heidi Good Dog!! Turn out two-leggers mad because Heidi have parka that keep her warm! Say Heidi cruel and kill coyote for jacket fur!

Heidi hate coyotes! Very happy to kill coyote!! Heidi see coyote once when walking in woods and OMG it was so scary Heidi almost peed!! Heidi just froze! Only tim Heidi EVER scared! Didn’t know what to do! Real nightmare.

Coyote love to kill Dachshund! It is coyote favourite thing! And coyote gang-up, hunt in numbers so not fair! Heidi fight like a dog, one on one, but not coyote!! Coyote have no mercy, no honour, just kill, kill, kill, so Heidi not feel bad for one second for killing coyote to stay warm! So Heidi bark at two-leggers and snarl, and two-leggers flinch and suddenly smell like fear! Ha! Heidi not even have good mobility because of parka, but still they terrified! It good to be Heidi.

The present regime is concerned that this is not reflective of the sophisticated, even progressive nature of Iran, as well as being an obvious diplomatic hindrance. With that in mind, the government is considering some alternate slogans, a few of which appear below:

1. AMERICA, WE ARE CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR OBESITY!!
2. AMERICA, YOU ARE BEING UNKIND!!
3. AMERICA, WE DO NOT HATE THE JEWS!!
4. AMERICA, THE TWERKING, IT IS NOT DECENT!!
5. AMERICA, WE HAVE NEVER INVADED ANOTHER COUNTRY!!
6. AMERICA, YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT FOOTBALL IS!!
7. AMERICA, ARE YOU HAPPY?! WE WORRY!!
8. AMERICA, PLEASE HEAR OUR POEM!!
9. AMERICA, THIS IS QUITE SERIOUS
10. AMERICA, WHEN WILL YOU BE ANGELIC?!