I Am Going to Vote Liberal
I have decided I must vote Liberal on January 23rd. In one of those epiphanic moments one has at the oddest moments (I think I was digging a trench for some drain pipe) I realized I have consistently voted either for the losing candidate or the losing party (usually both) in every Federal election but one. That was back in 1968 when I had hair and lived in Saskatoon. I voted for Otto Lang because he was the Dean of my law school. I had no better reason at the time. Stanfield looked old and scary -an Ichabod Crane kind of scariness. I didn't know any better, youth is wasted on the young.
I moved to Vancouver in 1971 and stuck with the Liberals but Bill Clarke won my riding for the Tories. In 1974 I wasn't all that excited about what Trudeau was doing to the economy, but I stuck with the Liberals because Frank Low-Beer had taught one of my articling courses in 1972 and he seemed cool, he even had beer for us in our Friday sessions. Clarke, a seemingly dull and boring accountant won again for the PC's. I tossed one back in Frank's memory and got on with trying to earn a living. I had tossed God aside by now as well. He had gotten me through law school, provided a lovely wife, a good job, a house, a sailboat, a sports car - who needed God in those circumstances.
The 1979 election presented me with my first real quandary. I was tired of Trudeau, but the geeky Joe Who didn't do anything for me. Paul Manning, the Liberal in Vancouver Quadra seemed like a nice guy, we had a wine and cheese party for him in our house, I voted for him and Clarke swept to his 3rd straight win. I was definitely on a losing streak.
Then came the watershed 1980 winter election. It wasn't the fact it was winter that put me in a bad mood, it was that Joe Who, Mr. Specificity himself apparently couldn't count and lost his non-confidence motion. Then Trudeau was raised from his Mount Royal sepulchre, this was too much to take. I began to think seriously about the importance of my vote. I had no personal connection to candidates in my own riding, though my law partner had me working hard to try and get Gordon Gibson elected in Burnaby/North Shore.
The party platform that was head and shoulders above the rest in my estimation was that of the Rhinoceros Party which was running a number of candidates including one in Quadra, Vernon John Eh. McDonald. Other Rhino candidates in the Lower Mainland and Victoria included Albert the Cad Courchene, Dandy Randy Lyttle and Rhino Kirk Higgins. Their leader was Richard The Troll as I recall.
I couldn't resist their platform that included moving the Rocky Mountains, switching driving from the right side to the left side (staging it over several weeks starting with buses and large trucks), and my favourite letting Quebec secede so the drive to Toronto would be shorter for the Newfies.
I entered the polling booth with a real sense of purpose. Then I looked at the ballot and had a crisis of conscience. There was a candidate I hadn't considered and he was very attractive to me in my present state of mind. Peter Rabbit Milne, an engineering student was running as an independent. I was torn, what should I do? Then it occurred to me, I should do what countless Canadians have done for over a hundred years, I voted for the party and not the man. So John Eh got my vote (one of 405 while Peter Rabbit gleaned only 73.) Clarke won again, Bill that is, while poor Joe with no "e" was swept away by the echo bounce of Trudeau mania!
Orwell's year 1984 was next. God was back in my life, Trudeau was at last out of it and while I was not yet 40, signs of a budding conservatism began to assert itself in my life, and my hair had begun to migrate from the top of my head to the back of my neck, headed for its retirement plot between my shoulder blades. But Mulroney was decidedly too oleaginous for my liking. I felt sorry for John Turner, a decent man left up to his neck in a pile of patronage manure after the pig had fled the pen. On election day we turned the TV on at 8 pm to see the election already over as Mulroney had swept the country. I had to keep my string intact and I gave Turner my mercy vote. He won but his party was annihilated. By this time the Rhino party had disbanded, announcing that its purpose in bringing some absurdity and levity into the political process had so effectively been co-opted by the mainstream politicians, that Rhinoism had become redundant. My loss was not complete as Turner had defeated the seemingly indestructible Bill Clarke.
In 1988 Clarke, having refused to go away, once again ran for the Conservatives; Mulroney had proven to be as craven as the Liberals, selling his soul to Quebec, so I threw my vote away in favour of Turner again and a wooden stake finally was thrust into the political heart of the irrepressible Bill Clarke.
By 1993 my once nascent Conservatism was now toddling about on wobbly legs. God was still in my life and had carried me through some very difficult years of business reversals. Preston Manning had launched the Reform Party and at last there was some hope that a thoughtful, servant driven, honest politician was on the scene to restore the lustre to the terribly tarnished vessel of parliamentary democracy in Canada. I voted for Bill McArthur an experienced and decent physician, but he lost to the patrician Professor Ted McWhinney at whose heel flocked all the university intellectuals and the beautiful people who found Manning's squeaky voice, glasses and Christian faith far too gauche for their increasingly smug taste.
1997 brought more of the same, Chretien and McWhinney steamrollered the earnest Reformer Joanne Easdown, and 2000 introduced us to the tiny perfect Stephen Owen, the Liberal cabinet's best kept secret.
No relief for me in 2004 as Owen trampled Stephen Rogers whose experience and money was no match for the latte sipping, oh so inclusive, urbane set Liberals and the frightened leather patched Harris tweed NDPers who flocked to them in the last 48 hours, their teeth chattering with fear at the prospect of Stephen Harper.
What could I do? I was Joe Bxyzflt, a cloud permanently over my head on election days; I was Linus having that ball yanked away from me every time. So I left the accursed Quadra riding and moved to Vancouver Island. Could there now be hope for the Conservative Party candidate in Quadra? Will my losing streak end in Nanaimo/Cowichan? I hope no one shows this essay to Norm Sowden the Conservative candidate, he won't let me in his riding office if he knows what a loser I am.
Maybe I will change my name to Randy the Revanchist Rhino and run as an Independent.
I moved to Vancouver in 1971 and stuck with the Liberals but Bill Clarke won my riding for the Tories. In 1974 I wasn't all that excited about what Trudeau was doing to the economy, but I stuck with the Liberals because Frank Low-Beer had taught one of my articling courses in 1972 and he seemed cool, he even had beer for us in our Friday sessions. Clarke, a seemingly dull and boring accountant won again for the PC's. I tossed one back in Frank's memory and got on with trying to earn a living. I had tossed God aside by now as well. He had gotten me through law school, provided a lovely wife, a good job, a house, a sailboat, a sports car - who needed God in those circumstances.
The 1979 election presented me with my first real quandary. I was tired of Trudeau, but the geeky Joe Who didn't do anything for me. Paul Manning, the Liberal in Vancouver Quadra seemed like a nice guy, we had a wine and cheese party for him in our house, I voted for him and Clarke swept to his 3rd straight win. I was definitely on a losing streak.
Then came the watershed 1980 winter election. It wasn't the fact it was winter that put me in a bad mood, it was that Joe Who, Mr. Specificity himself apparently couldn't count and lost his non-confidence motion. Then Trudeau was raised from his Mount Royal sepulchre, this was too much to take. I began to think seriously about the importance of my vote. I had no personal connection to candidates in my own riding, though my law partner had me working hard to try and get Gordon Gibson elected in Burnaby/North Shore.
The party platform that was head and shoulders above the rest in my estimation was that of the Rhinoceros Party which was running a number of candidates including one in Quadra, Vernon John Eh. McDonald. Other Rhino candidates in the Lower Mainland and Victoria included Albert the Cad Courchene, Dandy Randy Lyttle and Rhino Kirk Higgins. Their leader was Richard The Troll as I recall.
I couldn't resist their platform that included moving the Rocky Mountains, switching driving from the right side to the left side (staging it over several weeks starting with buses and large trucks), and my favourite letting Quebec secede so the drive to Toronto would be shorter for the Newfies.
I entered the polling booth with a real sense of purpose. Then I looked at the ballot and had a crisis of conscience. There was a candidate I hadn't considered and he was very attractive to me in my present state of mind. Peter Rabbit Milne, an engineering student was running as an independent. I was torn, what should I do? Then it occurred to me, I should do what countless Canadians have done for over a hundred years, I voted for the party and not the man. So John Eh got my vote (one of 405 while Peter Rabbit gleaned only 73.) Clarke won again, Bill that is, while poor Joe with no "e" was swept away by the echo bounce of Trudeau mania!
Orwell's year 1984 was next. God was back in my life, Trudeau was at last out of it and while I was not yet 40, signs of a budding conservatism began to assert itself in my life, and my hair had begun to migrate from the top of my head to the back of my neck, headed for its retirement plot between my shoulder blades. But Mulroney was decidedly too oleaginous for my liking. I felt sorry for John Turner, a decent man left up to his neck in a pile of patronage manure after the pig had fled the pen. On election day we turned the TV on at 8 pm to see the election already over as Mulroney had swept the country. I had to keep my string intact and I gave Turner my mercy vote. He won but his party was annihilated. By this time the Rhino party had disbanded, announcing that its purpose in bringing some absurdity and levity into the political process had so effectively been co-opted by the mainstream politicians, that Rhinoism had become redundant. My loss was not complete as Turner had defeated the seemingly indestructible Bill Clarke.
In 1988 Clarke, having refused to go away, once again ran for the Conservatives; Mulroney had proven to be as craven as the Liberals, selling his soul to Quebec, so I threw my vote away in favour of Turner again and a wooden stake finally was thrust into the political heart of the irrepressible Bill Clarke.
By 1993 my once nascent Conservatism was now toddling about on wobbly legs. God was still in my life and had carried me through some very difficult years of business reversals. Preston Manning had launched the Reform Party and at last there was some hope that a thoughtful, servant driven, honest politician was on the scene to restore the lustre to the terribly tarnished vessel of parliamentary democracy in Canada. I voted for Bill McArthur an experienced and decent physician, but he lost to the patrician Professor Ted McWhinney at whose heel flocked all the university intellectuals and the beautiful people who found Manning's squeaky voice, glasses and Christian faith far too gauche for their increasingly smug taste.
1997 brought more of the same, Chretien and McWhinney steamrollered the earnest Reformer Joanne Easdown, and 2000 introduced us to the tiny perfect Stephen Owen, the Liberal cabinet's best kept secret.
No relief for me in 2004 as Owen trampled Stephen Rogers whose experience and money was no match for the latte sipping, oh so inclusive, urbane set Liberals and the frightened leather patched Harris tweed NDPers who flocked to them in the last 48 hours, their teeth chattering with fear at the prospect of Stephen Harper.
What could I do? I was Joe Bxyzflt, a cloud permanently over my head on election days; I was Linus having that ball yanked away from me every time. So I left the accursed Quadra riding and moved to Vancouver Island. Could there now be hope for the Conservative Party candidate in Quadra? Will my losing streak end in Nanaimo/Cowichan? I hope no one shows this essay to Norm Sowden the Conservative candidate, he won't let me in his riding office if he knows what a loser I am.
Maybe I will change my name to Randy the Revanchist Rhino and run as an Independent.
posted by Ben Buan | 12:52 a.m.
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