If I was Peter MacKay

I am not now, nor have I ever been Peter MacKay, but if I was, I'd be laughing.


I'd be laughing my freakin' guts out.



In fact, the biggest problem in my life would be
how to keep from going "snorf" and giggling at socially inappropriate times. This would have
been especially true during the 8 hour flight to Portugal for the NATO meetings with the prime minister this week.

I say 'especially' because one can only assume that the PM was more than slightly PO'd by that hat on the hill moment... the one where Mr. Mackay turned
up in an Air Emirates hat?

A small act of rebellion, perhaps,
but impeccably timed and unusually tasty.

***

Mr. Harper is obsessed with the idea of control. He's made it perfectly clear on many occasions that he will bully, bitch-slap and if necessary destroy anyone who threatens this obsession.

It is our familiarity with this fact of our lives that gave this modest prank the power of an elegant shot to the imperial family jewels, all the sweeter for being such a surprise.

What was not a surprise was the relish with which journalists delivered the news to every corner of the True North. It was the first 'feel good' story from the Hill in ages, and for citizens wearied by months of Harperial condescension and contempt, it was better than a box of Timbits.


If it inspired giggles in the hinterlands, there must have been thunder on the Hill. So it's safe to assume that, given the PMs delicate sensitivities and obsession with control, the flight to Lisbon might well have been very, very quiet... any spontaneous 'snorfing' or giggles would have sounded very loud indeed.

***

If I were Mr. MacKay,
I'd know that I had scored one of those goals that people will talking about for a long time. I'd feel like I'd communicated my feelings regarding recent processes and decisions to the cabal in the PMO, and given He Who Must Be Obeyed a taste of his own medicine.

I'd be laughing because we'd both know there was not a damn thing He could do about it. He can't push me any further out of His Loop than I already am, and he can't fire me. If he does, it would set off a shitstorm inside caucus big enough to blow any thoughts of a winning a majority all the way to kingdom come. 

***

The Big Payback

But the fun has just begun!

Because by now the rumours I started about leaving would now be blossoming. I have some interesting emails and phone messages to return, or not...

I'd be laughing because I already had a contract in my back pocket for the book I'm already working on. My autobiography, about growing up with Progressive Conservative values and the crazy ride from young MP to the merger with the Reform Party to the day I felt I had to resign.

It was a matter of principle.

I'd know that my next big plane ride would be
to Aruba, where I was booked into a very nice condo on the beach with room enough for an editor and my new special friend to come and stay.

And then, once again, I would "snorf" a good one, just imagining his face when the book comes out just days before he drops the writ.

His campaign starts out well behind the 8 ball - my 8 ball - never quite gets past it, and when the votes are counted...
alas, there is no Conservative majority in the House.

Again.

It's then that the knives come out, as knives always do in such situations. In a brief statement to the press, Mr. Harper resigns and down on the beach, my cel phone rings.



I listen, and with a sigh, I walk out on the deck and say "We have to go now, Mrs. MacKay. My Party needs me"




http://www.petermackay.ca/main.php


http://www.emirates.com/


http://nazanin.webng.com/

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