Sunday, 24 November 2013
Doing a Favour For Ford Nation by Naomi Elana Zener
Amidst the daily bombshells revealing a new scandal, I've scratched my head bewildered, agog and aghast at how Mayor Rob Ford can reach a new low every day, despite rock bottom having been hit several boulders ago. An avid fan of Shonda Rhimes' TV show "Scandal," I began to channel my inner Olivia Pope to come up with a list of tips a two year old could follow, so that Mr. Ford could climb out of the hole he’s dug for himself after having disgraced his political office, the city he represents, his family and himself:
1. Don't do drugs. Nancy Reagan taught us that. So did D.A.R.E., our parents, teachers and the cast of Saved By the Bell. Crack is whack was a central message you grew up with in the 1980s and 1990s. And, by whack we were not encouraged to give it a whack, as in a try, but rather to avoid it at all costs. Given its street vernacular roots, you should understand what whack means given the fact that you seemingly surround yourself with hoodlums. Just say NO!
2. Your name is not Jones. Your brother’s name is not Jones. Stop yelling it at each other in council. It leads one to believe that you are ‘jonesing’ for a ride on Casey’s train, high on cocaine, and we all know what your speed is. In case you weren’t sure, don’t take any speed.
3. Drunken stupors are for frat boys, raging alcoholics, and guest of speakeasies during Al Capone’s prohibition era. You know who they're not for: elected public officials. Put down the bottle. Step away slowly. Now, run to rehab. Your notoriety has rendered you infamous internationally. Having become fodder for and featured on American network television, your newfound celebrity status likely qualifies you for entry to Promises in Malibu. Since you're a rich white man you can also afford their monthly fees, so don't stop at "Go," don't collect $200 because you don't need the money, and get your ass straight to rehab.
4. Don't talk about female genitalia in public, unless you're prepared to have people talk about yours. Scratch that. We don't want anyone talking about your penis - EVER! Unless you meant to say pussy willow, as in the flower, don't use the first part of the plant's name to talk about female genitalia in public. You have a mother, wife, sister and daughter and they, like every other woman, do not wish to have their vaginas referred to as an all-you-can eat buffet.
5. Surrounding yourself with gang bangers, criminals and drug dealers doesn't substantiate your claim that when hanging out with such ne'er-do-wells you are rolling with your homies. Allow me to remind you that you are in fact a rich white male trustafarian. You likely have more in common with Michael Fassbender's role in 12 Years a Slave than with the Mr. Roper of Etobicoke's equivalent of a housing project in Toronto's Jane-Finch corridor. You are not the man of the people cleaning up the gravy train. Not spending taxpayer money and saving the city a few bucks by paying your office expenses out of your own pocket doesn't make you a good guy. It makes you the guy whose salary is being paid for by taxpayer dollars while using your family coin to buy your mayoral paper clips. If you actually did away with Toronto's land transfer tax grab as you'd claimed you would in your campaign platform, or helped a citizen out by paying it out of your own pocket on their behalf when purchasing a home in the Greater Toronto Area, you may gain some goodwill. Otherwise, stop touting your unused office budget as what is helping to pad the city's coffers. Own who you are, where you come from and accept that you own your Escalade outright versus the hot one your call-a-crack dealer cruises around town in.
6. Until the scandals die down and stop exploding like vaporizing atom bombs on a daily basis, stay off the sauce, out of the ghetto unless on official mayoral business, away from known felons, and don’t’ grab anyone’s ass but your own. And, if you grab your ass, please do it in the privacy of your own home or Escalade. Better yet, hide out in your man cave without acting like a Neanderthal, and contrary to your brother’s advice, for heavens sake do NOT have a few "pops" while hanging out at home.
7. Finally, stop talking about running for re-election. No one wants to elect you to any office in this land, with the exception of one of the ‘provincial senatorial’ seats your brother had mentioned to the press. If you want to be a provincial senator, have at it. I hear it's located two feet to the left of the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, which is five feet from where Jimmy Hoffa’s body is buried and coincidentally happens to be underneath the building where a living Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe perform nightly as geriatric dinner theater stars.
© 2013. Naomi Elana Zener. All Rights Reserved.