I walked into the Red Roaster earlier this morning and declared to a few regulars:
“I just heard my first election speech. Get out your pencils to vote.”
No one was too surprised or hopeful that much change would result from an election.
I was surprised to learn, however, that Mr. Harper used to work for one of the coffee drinkers at a nearby table.
After I remarked that Harper’s first official campaign speech reminded me of a boy with a pellet gun - shooting at little ducks in a row - I was informed of the following:
In the old days on Parliament Hill, when the current Prime Minister was just a tad in his twenties and baseball could be played outside the Commons without security present, he would sit off to the side and read copies of The Economist.
Baseball - a team sport - wasn’t his thing.
He was a numbers man.
Jots and tittles.
Today he pointed us toward the voting booth, pencil in hand.
Mr. PM, I’m more of a team player.
So, my jot is not for thee.
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