Shallow? Yes, indeedy, I am that.
I am, after all, from Ontario.
That said, the most interesting part of the debate was the translators.
They had two. One was a Scot, the other a gay.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it made me wonder whether the leaders got to pick their own translator.
There was Stephen Harper (the gay) and Iggy (the Scot).
Bwah, hah, hah. The Tories must be laughing their asses off.
One was sensitive, charming and witty; the other was a blustering windbag.
The one question I saw involved a woman my exact age who wanted to know what any government was going to do for the older unemployed demographic. Specifically, the woman wanted to know, as all Quebecers do, what was going to help her in her region.
Well, that’s Quebecers alrighty.
As a Quebecer, she wanted to know what pork barrelling scheme is coming to town like the Carnivale to save her flipping job.
In other words, what-tied-to-Quebec -make-work-project was going to give her princess-self an income?
If I tried that in Ottawa, I’d be laughed off the friggin’ bus, that’s for sure.
Here I am, a unilingual Anglo over 50 with absolutely no worldly skills save the ability to put a few words together in a sentence in English. I have no hope; where’s the hope for Simone, a bilingual, smartish lady who resembled, uncannily, Susan Boyle?
If you can’t get a friggin’ job in Quebec, come to Ottawa. There’s a job, made in the shade, for you, young lady.
Can ya type, can you read? Well you got yourself a wonderful new job at Service Canada.
Come on in.
What? You want to stay in your nice community there?
As Doug Bennett, late of Doug and the Slugs once said: “Too bad that you’re not as smart as you were in the first place.”
I think the debate went well.
By all accounts, by the end of the program, I’m sure Simone will have landed a spankin’ new job.
That’s how it works; haven’t ya heard?