‘I know you don’t have a TV but have you seen any movies lately?’ I asked my friend and cohort Camp, after I sat down.

‘As a matter of fact Muriel and I went to see Yesterday. I only went because I knew the music would be fantastic. Imagine a world without the Beatles.’

‘There are a lot of music films lately. Bohemian Rhapsody about Freddy and Queen, then Rocket Elton, now one about the Beatles and soon a movie featuring the boss’s music.’

‘The boss?”

‘Springsteen.’

‘Oh, right. Well, you’re the guy with time on your hands to go to movies and listen to music. I’m the one trying to make a living. Ask me about books and I’ll probably come up with an answer.’

‘Ok then, any books you would like to recommend, besides mine of course?’

‘Let’s see. Don Quixote, Notre Dame de Paris, War and Peace. ’

‘Stop it. How about somebody from this century?’

‘Ok, Richard Wagamese’s ‘Indian Horse’. The best. Or ‘Red Notice’ by Bill Browder about high finance and Russian corruption, reads like a thriller and my third recommendation goes to ‘A Promise on the Horizon’, a plausible and possible story about a young Stendhal travelling in Italy.’

‘Alright. How about some contemporary music? We went to see ‘Mama’s Broke’ at the Heritage Play House, or even Ed Sheeran, the guy in Yesterday. You have the time and the technology. ‘

‘I’ll get right on it,’ Camp said. ‘Mama’s Broke, great name.’

‘‘Ok, time to change the subject,’ I said. ‘Did you think that Greenland was up for sale,’ I asked.

‘Apparently it’s not, but the guy who made the offer is definitely loosing it. He could have asked Mette Frederiksen, the Danish Prime Minister, first. Instead he called her response to his shoot-from-the-hip offer ‘nasty’. Or he could have asked the Greenlanders. They would have told him that none of the 55’000 inhabitants own private property.

‘The Russians sold Alaska to the US,’ I said.

‘And they would love to have it back,’ Camp said. ‘As for Greenland, the latest data shows that the ice melt this year is eating away at their frozen real estate from the blazing sun above and the warmed waters below. Greenland might soon live up to it’s name again.’

‘Remember the hole in the ozone layer?’

‘We actually solved that one believe it or not,’ Camp said, ‘thanks to the unanimous ban of fluorocarbons worldwide, the hole practically disappeared.’

‘I wish the same concerted effort could be applied to stopping the burning of coal and the catastrophic wild fires in the Amazon and Siberia.’

‘Not while Asia digs up and burns 75 percent of the worlds coal from the Philippines to China and India coal is driving the turbines. In India alone about 50 gigawatts of coal-fired capacity are under construction. An increase of almost 10% over last year, according to Shell Oil,’ Camp said.

‘           ‘Jair Bolsonaro claims the fires in Brazil are a domestic matter not a world wide problem.’

‘Bolivia, under their indigenous president Evo Morales has an even worse record then Brazil for clear cuts and burnings which increased 200 percent in July over last year.’

‘How did we get from music and books to coal and trees burning,’ I said, emptying my first pint of the evening.

‘I guess we could stick to local news,’ Camp said. ‘Despite the relatively benign summer with few forest fires on this side of the globe and the occasional rain we apparently exceeded our water consumption targets once again. Considering we live in a rainforest.’

‘Politics as usual,’ I said. ‘Blame the former administration, the province, the end users but let’s do another study before we do anything.’

‘On the other hand we now have three micro-breweries and two distilleries in our little town of 8000 inhabitants. We better do our part,’ I said, holding up two fingers in a V sign towards Vicky who was already on her way with the refills.

‘Peace to you too she said,’ catching me off guard.  ‘Did either one of you two boys make it to Woodstock, fifty years ago?’ she asked.

‘I’m not a senior quite yet,’ Camp pointed out.

‘And I was back in old country then,’ I said, ‘but I saw the movie when it came out. Sitting in a dry, comfy theatre, not in a mud-puddle without food or water.’

‘No pain, no glory,’ Vicky quipped.