I’ve been thinking about something lately. It’s been gnawing at the back of my mind, in behind the “should I put the photos in the van or will they be okay on the top floor of our house” and “why, oh why does our cat choose to perch on the tippy-top of his cat tree before he pukes down the window and wall?”
Here’s the thing.
Michael Ignatieff – you might recognise him as the leader of Canada’s federal Liberal party – reminds me of someone. I mean, he looks *really* familiar. You might remember that I have this problem with thinking that people look like people. There was an entire week where every second person I saw reminded me of Richard Nixon. And then there was the week where Burton Cummings was *everywhere* (especially strange was seeing him in the ladies’ room at the mall). And then there was this entire week of posts that I made during the Grey Cup playoffs in 2009.
So sometimes people remind me of people. And it’s got to the point where I watch the news and I see Michael Ignatieff and I think: “Who the poop does that guy remind me of?” I stare and stare and can’t listen to anything he’s saying (not a big deal; he’s not really saying anything new anyway). And then today, it dawned on me.
In fact, I’m pretty sure the reason Michael Ignatieff didn’t live in Canada for all those years is because Mr. Dressup was cancelled, and then when Ernie Coombs died, we were all really sad, and Poor Michael couldn’t bear to be on television again. So the next time you go to a political rally, or the next time one of the campaign managers or volunteers or candidates from the Liberal party asks me what concerns me during this year’s election, I’m going to say: “Well, I’ll tell you something that really has me concerned about Mr. Ignatieff.”
And they’ll say, “Yes?” Because they’ll think they have the answers.
And I’ll say, “What the hell happened to Finnegan?”
And they’ll say, “I…I beg your pardon?”
And I’ll say, “Look, you. *I* know who Michael Ignatieff really is. What the hell happened to Finnegan?”
And they’ll begin to look Concerned, and will say: “Er.” And they’ll look at their notes. But I know that even though their notes might have things like “Northern Sovereignty” or “Universal Childcare” or “Stephen Harper is the antichrist” in their notes, the Liberal party doesn’t *have* a platform on what happened to Finnegan. You know why? They don’t want you to know the truth.
I’ll stand there, with my arms folded, and I’ll wear my Serious Face, and I’ll say: “He didn’t go on a ‘long trip’ **AT ALL**, did he?”
And the candidate for my riding, who I’m sure is a lovely lady, will say, “A…a long trip?”
And I’ll say, “You can’t fool me. Finnegan is DEAD, isn’t he? He’s DEAD!”
The candidate will take a step back, away from my door. She’ll clutch her pamphlets to her chest and she’ll claim there’s been some misunderstanding.
“Oh, there’s no misunderstanding. I understand *all too well*.”
Because I do, you know. I’ve seen through Ignatieff’s clever ruse. But I want some ANSWERS, damn it. Write to your Liberal MP or MP candidate and ask, “What happened to Finnegan, Mr. Ignatieff? Mr. CASEY Ignatieff?”