By now you know that Paul Martin’s little communications ratter, Scott Reid, has opened up a can of boa constrictors. But if the PM is lucky, and he has been so far, these boas will swallow Reid and avoid deep-throating the big dog himself.
“Popcorn and beer” is what brought us here. Reid tried to take a bite out of Stephen Harper’s child-care bonus cheques and ended up biting more than he could chew. Reid said the average Canadian wouldn’t spend an extra hundred dollars a month on child care. Milk money for little Scotty would more than likely be turned into beer money for those who are watchin’ Scotty grow.
This niblet is easy to understand. The Libs are just as mean as all those other folks who have been in power for too long and think your money is their money. Nobody has to explain to you that Scott Reid, like so many other Liberals who have been gorging themselves at the power trough, are now so full of hubris, so full of scorn for the common people that if you catch them in a moment of honesty, they will scare you.
Now you need to know that Scott Reid, a long time before he became a potty-mouthed poltroon, was a common man being reared in small-town Ontario, not far from where Bobby Hull sewed his wild little oats, Belleville. Some of Canada’s best dairy farms surround Belleville. Black Diamond Cheese is made there. Prince Edward County, just a stone’s throw away, is home to some very wealthy people. Even Hollywood celebs like Cher own property there. Mr. Martin’s little potty mouth wasn’t reared on one of those properties. A single mother gave Scott everything she could when he was just a common boy.
But since he has clearly forgotten his roots, my Canadian values oblige me to share with him a lyric that offered me guidance and companionship on those lonely trails I would drive in Ontario, going from job to job in radioville—Common Man by John Conlee:
As the maid poured wine and we began to dine
I knew I was feeling out of place
At a table as large as a river barge
And I love you written all on your face
I appreciate your hospitality
But I wish that we would go
Let me drive us to McDonald’s and I’ll talk to you
Concerning something you should really know
I’m just a common man
Drive a common van
My dog ain’t got a pedigree
If I have my say
Gonna stay that way
Cause high-browed people lose their sanity
And a common man is what I’ll be.
And there you have it, Scott Reid. A reminder of who you were and who you are supposed to be connecting with. It must feel awfully good to have a database of wealthy Liberal funders who will ensure that you never have to forfeit your big ol’ lobster for a greasy little burger. But every time you feel the polls are treating your guy better than they should and those PR hacks are kissing your derriere looking for a crumb, just remember from whence you came and how Momma didn’t blow the money she made on beer and popcorn. She made sure that you had everything you needed to get to where your fine mind could take you.
Make her proud, little ratter. You don’t want her to think what so many others are now certain of. The pilot light for the common man no longer flickers. Pretty scary eh?