So there’s evidently a local election going on that I wasn’t aware of. It’s probably something at the town level, or I would have seen signs driving about. Want to know how I found out about this election? Well, it’s a funny story actually. I came home from work a few days ago, and Jodi says, “We got the most ridiculous note in the mail today.”
“I can’t even explain… just read it. It’s on the counter.”
I pick it up. It is folded in half.
Ohhhh, this has promise, thought I.
A hand-written note on a torn piece of ringed binder paper is really rather endearing. I can only envision this guy — whom I discovered after the fact to be a local pastor, who apparently identifies heavily with the NDP — hunched over a table all week, scrawling the same thing over and over again by hand, getting frustrated and scrapping the ones where he caught major spelling errors and couldn’t gracefully fix them. The fact that he didn’t know how to spell “candidate” does not, in itself, disqualify him from office in my mind. Nor does the fact that he possibly didn’t have the funds to get a page printed professionally, or the resources to print something himself. Being poor does not in itself disqualify one from local office either.
No, what would keep me from voting for him is the fundamental lack of understanding of what kind of change can be made in the position he’s running for.
I’ll grant you that I don’t know exactly what office he’s running for, because this was the first hint I’ve gotten that there’s a local election going on. I can tell you that it’s not a federal or provincial election, though. Nobody short of a provincial politician could do anything about our power rates, given that NS Power is a private company. And to think that a local politician could affect taxes outside of property tax rates, and even that is heavily dependent on the realities of revenue and land value, is terribly amusing, but removes all the goodwill he’d won with me for his personal note.
I’m sorry, Local Candidate. I can’t vote for you. While I get your sincerity, I can’t put someone into office who’s so evidently ignorant of what kinds of promises they can make and actually keep.
11 thoughts on “Our local canadate”
He’s a candidate in Canada, so therefore he’s a canadate.
Good one, TH.
And because we’re weird up here with all our extra U’s on words like “humour”, that’s obviously where the E went in “taxs”.
I was out in Main-a-Dieu for a while, the experience gave me the impression that hand written notes on binder paper would actually be a bit elitist in a NS politician. 😉
If I were you, I would snag the URL canadate.ca.com — single Canadians want to meet you!
There are Canadaphiles all over the world looking to rub noses in an igloo with a cute Canadian boy/girl! From Yukon to Nanavut to Cape Breton, lonely Canadians will politely offer you apologies!
How would you like to lie back on a polar bear-skin rug with Gordon or Celine, some Molson’s, and a bellyful of poutine? Click on canadate.ca.com now!
(Sorry. That’s all the stereotypes I can come up with off the top of my head. Oh, wait — something about Tim Horton’s! Red Green? [Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have apologized. (Sorry.)])
It’s pathetic, but it’s all politics amounts to, really – making promises you don’t know if it’s even possible to keep. It’s no surprise this letter comes from a pastor, someone who uses the very same methodology in his day job.
Jason, for the benefit of myself and other vision impaired readers, could you please add the text of the notes as alt tags in the images, or as a transcription in the post itself?
Thanks in advance.
fwtbc: I’m sorry, my bad. I’d actually transcribed them in the alt text in Gallery, but I only did that after I’d already inserted them into the post. A moment, I’ll change them so you can enjoy it too.
As for the note itself, all I can say to that is “oh dear”.
It reminds me of kids running for class president in hi school, and promising longer lunches and good food and shorter days. Not gonna happen.
I think I know who that is, the handwriting looks suspiciously like my ex-wife’s cousin’s, who happens to be running for City Council in Halifax.
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