The Current

The Current for May 1, 2020

Today on The Current: Ban on assault weapons; Surgeries delayed due to COVID-19; 30 years of Hubble; Vinyl Cafe story Fish Head; Famine and locusts in Africa; Advice columnist Amy Dickinson; Couple separated by U.S.-Canada border make it a venue for dates
Matt Galloway is the host of CBC Radio's The Current. (CBC)

Full Episode Transcript

Today on The Current: 

After the mass shooting in Nova Scotia, the federal government is moving to ban a host of assault weapons. We discuss the expectations and concerns on all sides of this debate.

Then, COVID-19 has delayed many crucial surgeries and treatments for cancer, heart and other patients. We talk to a patient who's waiting, and a surgeon who's working on how to deal with the backlog.

And we may all be glued to the news, but how well is the media covering the pandemic? We discuss what the public needs in a time of crisis, and how the pandemic is exacerbating the challenges media outlets were already facing.

Plus, it's been 30 years since the Hubble telescope began to chart deep space, but the story started with blurry pictures and a daring fix in space. We hear how Hubble became our eyes on the wonders of the universe.

We hear the classic Vinyl Cafe story Fish Head for more Dave and Morley antics from the late Stuart McLean. [Note: The Vinyl Cafe story that aired in this broadcast is no longer available online.]

Then, the UN World Food Programme says the pandemic is pushing parts of Africa towards famines of "biblical proportions," and a plague of locusts is only making things worse. We discuss the threat facing millions.

Plus, the pandemic has turned lives upside down — what does that mean if you're in the business of solving personal problems? Advice columnist Amy Dickinson tells us what people are asking her during COVID-19.

And finally, we talk to Savannah Koop and Ryan Hamilton, a young couple living on opposite sides of the B.C.-Washington border. They were due to get married next week, but instead the pandemic has left them with their big day postponed, and sitting on opposite sides of the border for "dates" — six feet apart.