LIGHT TRAFFIC

© Carolyne Weldon

The funny thing is that it will have taken a real bad recession, masterminded by the sort of rapacious big cheeses that have never been in the vicinity of a shovel, for the modest tool to acquire its sexiest connotations in history. Ever since the spectacular rise of the “shovel-ready” trope, used to qualify the allmighty infrastructure projects that will – to hear them – put people back to work, frankenstein the economy and wash all our psycho-consumer sins away, the lowly shovel has been on every politician’s, journalist’s and spin-doctor’s lips.

I don’t know about you, but I think it’s sort of refreshing to have people suddenly clamouring for more shovelling, more dirt, and more sweaty men, with the urgency once reserved for Louboutin pumps and Swarovski gewgaws. It looks like “as times are getting tougher,” (the lead to every Globe and Mail article published in the last four months), the rusting, crusty shovel is finally having its day in the sun.