Huffy and Puffy
I think it’s weird that I ragged on about writing for free just yesterday morning and have been writing for free quite happily ever since.
Could it be that I’d feel more fulfilled just blogging a book?
My good friend, “one cent”, (poor as a church mouse, lives like a queen) would say so.
She is very well read, appreciates my sense of humour, makes ends meet by house sitting and dog walking, and laughed when I mentioned my plan to make money writing.
Luckily, I’ve been saving my best material.
The thing is, I’m a people person. I like the interaction that comes from the writing more than the actual writing.
As Barbie would say, “Writing is hard”.
And let’s face it, does anybody really have anything to say that hasn’t already been said and who surely to pete can say it again in non-run-on-Sooey sentences anyway?
But that’s not what this entry is about – this entry is about Mike Duffy.
Yes, I know, theme, plot, characters – staying on topic! – but like Barbie just said, “Writing is hard”.
Now, my Beau is incidentally related to the Duffster through marriages and whatnot and even though he’s a satirical genius (my Beau, not the Duffster) he’s very generous about people, particularly political people, and he’d tell you that the Duffster’s a good guy.
And he does seem like a good guy.
He also seems like a guy who’s used to a lot of free stuff.
So you know what strikes me as unfair about this latest imbroglio involving our political Senators (as opposed to the Boys of Hockey) – it’s like we put a tempting dish of candy within easy reach of our easily tempted candy loving political class, then slap the hand that dares partake of the sweet goodness.
I know, I know. I’d stay so far away from that dish of candy that I wouldn’t know if it was soft or hard and so would you.
But that’s because I’ve worked with people who keep candy on their desks and, well, let’s just say that after a while they either stop keeping candy on their desks or they go on stress leave.
I break out in a cold nauseous sweat if I eat too much candy. Then I turn all red in the face, spin around a few hundred times, and start snapping at passersby.
Then I eat more candy.
So I stay as far away from dishes of free candy as I can. No good comes of free candy. You know what comes of free candy? Cankers and bitter recriminations.
And you know what’s even more unfair about all this is that Mike Duffy looks like Mike Duffy. That is so not fair. Because it would be one thing if it was me caught eating that candy because even when I’m spinning around like a whirling dirvish I’m unbelievably good-looking.
Not so for the Duffster, let’s face it.
But it’s so much more than that because, well, why the hell does P.E.I. have a senator at all, let alone two? I mean, what is the point of chastising Senators from P.E.I. for breaking the rules, breaching protocol, whatever, when there should be no such thing as a Senator from P.E.I. in the first place.
Furthermore, with regard to Senator Brazeau, the Senate is supposed to be the house of sober second thought.
I’m sorry, but if Stephen Harper appointed me to the Senate, and I’ve got close to a couple of decades on Patrick Brazeau, the absentee rate would be high alright, but it wouldn’t be mine, if you catch my drift.
So, here we are again. And even though I just counseled one of my kids this morning that, while we’re all responsible for our own behaviour, we’re not responsible for the behaviour of others, the same is simply not true of political appointments.
Once again, Stephen Harper, you’ve got some s’plainin’ to do.