Rob Ford, Toronto mayor
On Monday, Rob Ford was elected Mayor of Toronto.
There are probably a few things you should know about him.
He’s your garden variety Conservative, the kind of guy that gets all red in the face, pumping his meaty fist in the air shouting,” the gravy train must stop!” The other striking thing about him is his appearance, which is of a defeated salesman. A big, heaving white guy, Ford has tiny, receded eyes that makes him look like he’s spent most of his life underground. His hair, so absent of colour as to appear transparent, is thin, sparse and likely styled by a straight guy from Oshawa. And of course, his past is buckshot with the sort of Frat Boy controversy you’d expect from a guy that grew up idolizing Rush Limbaugh and the CFL.
As such, all the downtown types in the city hate him, a loathing that is only amplified by Ford having dropped out of Carleton University in Ottawa before he got his degree in Political Science.
Well, I was living in Ottawa at the same time as Ford, and as we both drank at The New Edinburgh Pub each night, we became drinking buddies, and I want all of you to know that real Rob Ford, and not just the caricature that’s been presented in the media.
“The Robber” as he liked to be called, was an ass man. He always over-tipped the pretty waitresses and usually ordered the Suicide Wings. He certainly considered himself the life of the party, and if there were any lampshades in the place, well, he would have been the first to wear one. He had a Fantasy Hockey Team called “Fords Friggin’ Freight Trains,” (FFFT for short) that he was very proud of. He could also drink like a champion, putting back about 6 pints of Canadian a night, and whenever he got drunk he would talk in an Australian accent and inevitably start singing the theme to Ghost Busters.
However, there is more, much more to the man, and I want to share a few of the things that he said to me over the course of our year of drinking together.
“Mike, I know that everybody just thinks I’m a big, jolly ball of light, but I have my pain. I think about things, like why are some babies sick and others cute? Why?”
Later, Rob told me that he had been taking a creative writing course at the University.
“You know what I like writing about, Murray? Trucks. Fucking love writing about trucks.”
“Bigfoot is real. No shit.”
“I’m like the Captain, and you’re like Gilligan! You ever think of that?”
“I don’t think we should have any Russians in the NHL. Their names are too hard to pronounce and they’re pussies. You with me, little buddy?”
“Let’s get a few beers to go, head back to my place and smoke a joint. I’ve been working on that Honeymoon Suite song on the keyboards and I want to know if you think I’m ready for the Open Mike night on Sunday.”
“Mur, I swear, if a flying saucer came down right now, I would look up at ‘em and just yell, “Calgon, take me away!”
“Which character from “Friends” are you most like? I’m like Joey. And which chick would you most want to do? For me it’s Rachel. Big time. You see the can on her?”
“I don’t know, Little Buddy, sometimes I just think municipal government is too big.”
* ( most of this is not true)
