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Zachary Gordon was one of those receiving Canadian citizenship last week. (Photo by Cam Hutchinson)
 
We take our citizenship for granted

Twenty-five people became Canadian citizens last week in a ceremony at the Saskatchewan Aviation Museum.
We all should go to one of these ceremonies. We will see the smiles of those who can now officially call Canada home. Hearing the Oath of Citizenship, and seeing all those right arms raised, was touching.
The Georges Vanier children’s choir singing What a Wonderful World brought lumps to throats. Our national anthem never sounded so good.
Fenrick, Alicia and Zachary Gordon were among those who received citizenship. They came to Canada from Jamaica — Alicia in 2011, and Fenrick and Zachary in 2013.
“There are better opportunities for us, being here,” Fenrick Gordon said after the ceremony. “We are grateful for this opportunity to be in a country that is diverse; to be in a country that has a low crime rate and has economic opportunities for not only ourselves but also for my son when he gets older.”
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Being thankful/not thankful for our health care system

Yes, I know I’m a week behind on my traditional Thanksgiving turkey.
Ah, column. Column. Not turkey. Although, it could be a turkey. You will have to decide.
I made the big brown bird last Sunday, and I must say it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever cooked. It was also among the most delicious — moist, tasty – and very free-range expensive. I will also, if you will forgive me, brag about my spectacular bread, sausage, onion, mushroom and spice stuffing. I’m not really a very good cook but I do a few things well and stuffing is in the top one.
Pot roast and most kinds of potatoes follow. And you wonder why there are five extra pounds around my middle.
I’m sure you’re familiar with the latest “sorry not sorry” craze. You know the drill: someone says something a little sharp, or offensive, and says sorry. But really isn’t sorry. So he/she says not sorry right after.
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Saskatoon hockey players to be inducted into Hall of fame

The most elderly skaters in the Saskatoon 60+ Hockey League are about to be recognized at a level that probably none ever envisioned.
And they’re doing it in a style which the Canadian 80+ Hockey Hall of Fame is trying for the first time. The Ontario-based hall is going to hold the ceremonies in Saskatoon on Nov. 3 at Schroh Arena and the Western Development Museum, the first time the ceremonies are going to be held in Western Canada.
“Our group of inductees is 28 strong, with one award being made posthumously,” said Stan Halliwell, co-founder of the Saskatoon league, “so the organizers said we’ll come to you instead of you coming to us.”
One of the features of the day will be a game featuring 28 players, 14 on the Gold team against 14 on the Blue team, at Schroh Arena at 3 p.m.
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Jeffery Straker excited to perform with SSO

From house concerts to concert halls, Jeffery Straker has played them all.
But the size of the venue doesn’t matter to him; rather, his focus is on setting the stage for a great experience for the audience and the musicians alike.
“One of the things about my shows is whether they’re in a house concert living room with 40 people or TCU Place with 2,000, I really try to make them all somewhat intimate,” said Straker, an acclaimed Canadian pianist and singer-songwriter who was born and raised in Punnichy, Sask.
“I talk to the audience between songs and I sort of give the background on songs. I like to create an environment like that. Because I find that in a performance, though there’s music and energy flowing from the performers to the audience, in my experience when the audience is engaged and feeling like it’s an intimate setting, energy comes back from them, back onto the stage.”
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Minimum wage issue is unhelpfully argued by the privileged

I’m dating myself here, but I’m pretty sure that when I got my first job minimum wage was around $5 per hour.
I was working in the fast-food industry, serving up thousands of French fries through drive-thru windows and over the counter at hockey rinks. I lived at home and was in high school, so I’m not really sure where my money went, besides gas for my vehicle.
My parents pushed me to get a job when I was 15, and I am grateful they did. At the time, the point of donning a greasy uniform wasn’t to support myself. It was to learn responsibility, how to manage my schedule, as well as the basic service skills that go along with serving hungry customers from 4 p.m. to 11 p.m. Of course, at the time I didn’t really recognize that fact; I was in it for the spending money.
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An Indian giver is not a bad thing

This was going to be the final game for the summer.
My brothers play in a band named Weekend Warriors. I went on tour with them, travelling from community to community mostly in the north. Every town had a different event —a wedding, a graduation, a private party or a sporting event.
In one village, there was a baseball tournament. Since the band didn’t play until that night, I decided to go and watch the baseball games.
There was only one game being played when I found my way to the diamonds. It was the juniors who were playing — kids probably 12 or 13 years old. The one thing evident in any Indigenous sporting event is the players share equipment, even if they are opposing teams.
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