The Unbendable Cello

Being Greenish, rather than true blue Green, I occasionally feel a bit guilty that I have joined the party and haven't been very active.

So I was feeling quite good about myself after I agreed to pick up a few items and deliver them to our Green Party Garage Sale this weekend. The woman in charge put me in touch with a party member named John who said he had a few things to donate, including a cello.

A cello?

My spy car is not only the most non-descript car in the parking lot, it is also very small. I pictured myself driving from North Pelham to the garage sale in Beamsville with the cello lashed across the hood of my car the way Yukoners carry a dead moose home for butchering.

"I hope it's bendable," I e-mailed him.

"I'm donating some books, some tapes and my unbendable cello," he e-mailed back rather crossly.

I was surprised to find out that the cello fit comfortably across the back seat of the spy car. And it came in a cello shaped back pack! I was impressed. If I any musical talent or knowhow and was twenty again I would have bought it myself.

Anyway, as these things are wont to happen the cello never made it to the garage sale. A friend of a friend wanted to buy it after she saw a comment I made on Face book.

I e-mailed the local Green Party headquarters.

"See if they'll make a cheque out to the Green Party for $50. They'll get 75% back in income taxes."

"Ha ha," I wrote back. "These are dyed-in-the-wool, card carrying members of the Conservative Party. We aren't going to get a cheque from them written out to the Green Party!"

"CONSERVATIVES! Make them pay cash through the nose because of the fake lake in Muskoka!" came the directive from on high.

"Sir! Yes, Sir!" I strapped on the sword of righteous indignation and snapped a salute at the monitor.

A lovely young couple turned up at my house a few days later to look at the cello and the sword of righteous indignation evaporated.

"Well," I said tentatively after they had examined the cello and were making happy sounds.

We all looked bashfully at each other.

I tried again. "Wellllll, John said it's worth $50.

Long pause.

Finally the young man said, "How about $35?"

"I'LL TAKE IT!" I said a little too loudly, relieved the painful twenty second money ordeal was finally over.

"$40," cried the young woman.

We looked at her.

I was almost certain that this wasn't the way it was supposed to work, but I'm a Canadian and we haven't had to barter for things since beaver fur hats went out of style.

"Well, it's just because I don't have any change," she said cheerfully.

It made sense to me.  

We parted on a very happy note. They with the unbendable cello and me with $40 for the Green coffers.

Green Headquarters e-mailed to ask how things had gone.

"Great. I got $40 for it. I'll bring the money to the garage sale or if you would like, I can run it up to Ottawa!"

The humourless reply came back that the money was to stay in our riding.

Jeesh. Ottawa is a two day car ride away.

Don't politicians ever get a joke?

I feel unappreciated. Which way to the Rhinoceros Party?