Musings —07.13.2010 10:19 AM—
Likening Stephen Harper to Satan – because that’s what the sulfuric statement arguably did – isn’t the most adroit strategic move. I mean, what do you say next? That he has the fashion sense of Vlad the Impaler? That he has Attila the Hun’s aura on a bad day? All of those guys worked the Devil. Once you deploy the rhetorical A-bomb, there’s no other weapon to reach for. You’ve said your opponent is the Prince of Darkness. What can you call him after that?
The cowboy boot imbroglio, meanwhile, is no rhetorical High Noon. As anyone who has traveled into the Québeçois hinterland will tell you, the wearing of cowboy boots is something that lots of folks do, not just Calgarians. In fact, I’d wager that there are more cowboy boots worn in rural Québec, chaque jour, than in all of Alberta.
Besides, and since I’m on a bit of a opinionizing roll here, the Stampede irritates me. My family lived in Cowtown for 30 years. As a charter member of the city’s diaspora, I can assure you that long-time residents usually endeavour to be elsewhere when the Stampede kicks off – ideally in another country. I mean, there’s only so many sightings of businessmen barfing all over their brand-new Howdy Doody polyester outfits – on downtown streets, broad-daylight, in front of horrified schoolchildren – that you can take before you want to head for the Rockies. If a real cowboy has ever been in Calgary during Stampede, I’ve yet to meet him.
Anyway. Sulfuric boots, whatever, blah blah blah. It’s Summertime: I had wagered that Iggy would have a pretty tough time attracting media attention on his bus tour. But I guess I was wrong about that.