It’s a tale of two elections.
In one, history is in the making. Old prejudices and fears are tumbling and the conscience, imagination and resolve of a nation are awakening from a deep slumber.
In the other, the wooden man squares off against the backpack guy in a bid to win an election no one really wants, except for wooden man who wants more pegs than he won last time out.
The backpack guy is going along for the ride to show voters, his own party and the wooden guy that he is made of sterner stuff than previously thought. Taliban Jack and the jolly green May are putting their best foot forward.
If you had a choice in which election to vote, wouldn’t you pick the history making one? Alas, we are stuck with the one we have. But fear not. Our election is a hell of a lot funnier than the one south of the border.
Think not? How about the great puffin caper? Apparently, the puffin has some sort of celebrity status in Newfoundland/Labrador. Who knew? Well thanks to an animated bird on a Conservative website dropping a ‘hello how are you’ on the shoulder of hapless Dion, we are now well aware of the puffin and what it means to Newfoundland in general, and Danny Williams in particular.
Seems Danny has taken some offence to the Tories’ callous use of a treasured provincial icon. There he was, at a press conference, denouncing the Tories and calling on all and sundry to vote ABC (Anything But Conservative), while some poor sap paraded about in a puffin suit.
Good political theatre, yes. Hilarious, absolutely!
Week one of the election also produced Dion’s explanation of his language troubles. Seems he can’t hear the ‘music’ of the English tongue, and that leads to mispronunciations, jumbled phrasings and mangled meanings.
Geez, if perfect linguistic ability were all that important to Canadians, Jean Chrétien would never have become the ‘little guy’ who shot from the heart, and occasionally from the hip.
Perhaps it’s not how Dion says it, but rather what he has to say. If he had a message voters longed to hear, they’d understand him no matter how tortured the delivery.
No recitation of the comic elements of our election would be complete without mentioning the PM’s sweaters and declarations of being just an ordinary family guy.
Forgive me if I’m wrong, but no one ever inferred ‘Steve’ was anything other than a standup family man. He just has an image as stiff and reserved as a Victorian vicar, and it’s unlikely any amount of warm and fuzzy sweaters will change that.
However, stranger things have happened. Maybe we don’t really know Steve after all.
Hands down, the knee-slapper prize goes to Williams and the cavorting puffin. South of the border, they’re making history. Here, we like to keep it light and breezy – and funny. Actually, maybe we’re on to something.
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