Just hate to say it, but this lack of interest by that Harper boy in appointing moi to the Canadian Senate, is starting to wear on me.
It’s becoming somewhat personal, and I’ll tell you why.
Just last week, that Harper boy made 98 patronage appointments, and I didn’t even get a phone call, e-mail or an expressed interest in accepting my resume.
Of course I have no current resume. My body of work speaks for itself … all four lines of it.
Stevie Wonder, that Harper Boy, named a whole swack of people to the CBC’s board or bored of governors, but nary a mention of my name. And I listen to the CBC every day and I even watch an occasional CBC show that isn’t hockey. What more could they ask of me?
Appointments were made to the National Capital Commission.
I have no idea what a Capital Commission does, but it sounds as if it’s something I might be interested in doing, especially since there is a handsome honorarium attached to this nation-saving job.
There were a whole host of judicial appointments.
Hey, I could try couldn’t I? I watched The Good Wife last season. I know how judges work the system and the system works the judges.
There were a bunch of people named to regional port authorities.
I know I could do that job. I volunteered for years as a boat checker for the Estevan Wildlife Federation’s annual Walleye Classic, so I know about boats, ports, docks and fish. I would make an excellent port authoritorian. I could ensure the efficiency of the Estevan grain-loading docks and keep the Souris free of pirates.
Then there were people named to the Canadian Tourism Commission, and again, no call from Steve or any of his short pants guys.
What do you need to do to be a qualifier for a cushy job in that commission?
Heck, I live just a few kilometres from the North Dakota border. I know a few people in Crosby, Noonan and Minot. I’m sure I could convince two of them to come to Canada for an afternoon. Hey, we’ll take the tourists however we can find ‘em. I say let’s bribe them with some of that unholy Senatorial cash we apparently have stored in the nether regions of our federal vault.
But I fear not. I still have my backup plan … being Mayor of Estevan.
Since I launched my semi-official campaign two weeks ago, I have been assured of at least five votes, and if the bride can be convinced I’m worthy of the job, make it six.
But being mayor would not have to preclude my appointment to the Senate or the CBC, Capital Commission, Port Authority or Tourism Commission. They are all part-time jobs. I could do it all and still find time to write a weekly column and keep scamming the Mercury’s petty cash fund.
When elected mayor, I will make sure that while I may not colour within the lines of the civic colouring book, I will ensure all vehicles are parked within the marked lanes in every parking lot in the city. If not, my loosey-goosey security guy will issue tickets.
I also promise to think “outside the box” on every civic issue, whether it requires it or not.
Remember, a vote for that Park guy will never be a vote for clarity. But it will be a vote for goodwill, unless the topic turns to Weyburn. Then, we might have a problem.
