Gorgeous sunshine. People everywhere. Bicycles along the trail. Dogs and their owners out for a stroll. Neighbours catching up as sidewalks are swept clear of sand and debris raked from berms.
The whole idea of hibernating for several months is a distant memory-we hope.
Of course this spring, election signs are sprouting as fast as snow drops, hyacinths and crocus. In the city of Orillia, I would have to say the Liberal’s Steve Clarke is winning that show. However, I don’t think that signage is a direct representation of who’s ahead or who might win the riding. That is till for you to decide when you mark your “X” at the polling station next month.
Speaking of the election…how clever Rob. A segue into the next bit. I have a friend who writes letters- e-mails actually, to parliamentarians. She never gets a personal reply it seems, just a form e-mail.
You know. Something like-
Thanks for writing we appreciate your ideas.
A while back she wrote to Peter MacKay asking him to get on with his life. Change, Peter. Make a move, Peter. “Grow a pair Peter!”- if you will.
A form letter reply arrived in her inbox.
She tried getting a rise out of the Prime Minister as well. A lovely form letter e-mail that recognized someone had received it but the chances of Mr. Harper seeing it were remote. The e-mail didn’t say that however, you just had to read between the lines.
So I thought what a neat job it would be to answer letters and e-mail destined for a Prime Minister. Like all those staff members that look after the Royal Mail for Queen Elizabeth, I would give some answers- wishy-washy to be sure but answers just the same.
So an e-mail might be sent from a Mrs. Elvira Smith-Jones to the Prime Minister’s Office on Parliament Hill. The e-mail perhaps admonishes the P.M. about incarcerations in our jails, political prisoners, freedom of speech and being mean-spirited. It also asks the PM in no uncertain terms- “don’t bother sending your usual form letter”. It would be my job to read such e-mail and compose a firm reply. I might say something like this-
My Dear, Dear Mrs. Smith-Jones,
How nice it is of you to write to me- your Emperor, on this fine spring day.
Here I thought I was going to have a wonderful Saturday starting with a quiet morning with my wife- Tallulah, the true Queen of Canada. Then your lovely message arrived.
Seeing immediately that you did not want to receive form letter 325-14A, I decided to scribble a few words to you personally.
Believe me, I know you only too well Mrs. Smith-Jones. Why just last week my little defence minister was straddling my lap crying real tears onto my right shoulder. Madam, you should know that this young lad is usually quite gay, yet he tells me your letters make him feel useless and quite unsure of his...well, that is between him and God. I must say Mrs. Smith-Jones because of letters such as your, there is just no sport to making him do- and think, as I say these days. He just sits and blubbers. It's a wonder he remains so stiff when he represents the country abroad as Minister of War.
Of course, I have heard there are other times when he's stiff too but that is for his shrink to deal with or our Father in Heaven above- not the head of
your “Government”.
Oh, yes. I know about you little Elvira. Your caring ways. Your volunteering here and there. Your little sit-ins and marches all on behalf of peace. Oh I know too your “cavort” with men who are- “that way”. I can’t even bring myself to say it. I know from whence you came, Mrs. Smith-Jones and I believe it's a little too liberal for my personal preference.
You speak of fear and paranoia. One only has to look at your loyal opposition’s eyebrows. Does that not throw fear in the eyes of the beholder?
Political prisoners? My dear, I believe you think that S*** wouldn't melt in my Royal Canadian Mouth. Well let me tell you my dear, I tried that once on a bet- back in university.
It does.
So there!
Mean-spirited? Look Mrs. Smith-Jones, if women like you stayed barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen it would certainly make it easier for us "real" men to get our jobs done like maybe running the country and keeping the true word of Jesus Christ. If God had of thought so highly of women and wished to place them on a pedestal, Jesus would have been a girl!
He's not!
Haven't you noticed?
Look, at least the maker's offspring was born of a woman. Can't you ladies just be happy with that? Oh no! Now you want to lead countries and corporations and walk down the streets of Ontario with your boobies flopping around in the summer sunshine!
You want to protest and drink your martinis outdoor on a patio- like men, so everyone can see you and marvel at your womanliness.
Well "missy" it doesn't mean diddly-squat to me and my Reformists!
You hear me?
Now that we have broached the subject of our Lord and Master- Jesus Christ, don’t you give me that crap about him hanging around with a dozen men for 3 years.
So what?
I sit naked in a steam bath three times a week with the Minister- as well as a bunch of other guys and that doesn’t make me a homosexual person- does it?
I speak for myself here. Just because our Minister of War makes frequent trips to visit the "boys" in the Middle East, it has no bearing whatsoever on any suggestion that he's not what God intended him to be.
“Small and hard” you say when describing him? Mrs. Smith-Jones, I happen to personal know for a fact that this man can do more things being smaller and harder than you could do twirling two turnips on a stick!
In closing, I thank you for your kind words and thoughts.
I only wait for that glorious day when the Opposition parties are flat on their fannies- penniless and poor. Then you people and people of your kind, will appreciate the country- my country, that I have set before you like pearls before swine.
Remember. Guns don't kill people.
People with guns kill people- unless they go duck hunting and then people kill ducks.
Yours sincerely,
Your Imperial Emperor and Future King,
The Prime Minister of Canada.
So that would be my reply to someone writing to the Prime Minsiter's Office.
My. What fun, eh?
