Outrageous miniskirts and other election issues

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 27/10/2010 (5535 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

It’s election day, so before you head out to vote I’d like to share a couple of political concerns I have just developed.

I developed my first concern Monday afternoon as I stretched out on the couch in my den staring at the big-screen TV.

I was watching CBC’s 24-hour news network. I don’t normally watch the 24-hour news network; I normally watch the Food Network, but I didn’t feel like watching that Monday because I’d just competed in a spaghetti-eating contest and was afraid a giant ball of pasta would burst out of my stomach like the slimy creature in Alien.

So there I was, watching a big-shot political panel on CBC wringing their hands over the fact Ottawa has spent more than $24 million on four temporary meeting rooms for MPs in a federal building next to Parliament Hill.

It turns out the four $6-million temporary rooms are being used for committee meetings because other buildings on the Hill are undergoing a long-term restoration costing (get ready for a big number) more than $5 billion.

For those of you who are not financial experts, I will point out here that $5 billion is what we call “a whole lot of money.” In scientific terms, if you were to lay five billion one-dollar coins end to end, you would probably get extremely bored.

But that’s not the point. The point is, as I lay groaning on the couch, I formed this journalistic thought: “$5 BILLION!!! ARE YOU @#!%$#*!#! KIDDING ME?”

I realize not all of you will agree with me. In fact, some of you would probably use an entirely different set of punctuation marks to represent words you can’t say in a family newspaper.

But I think we can all agree on one thing — we wouldn’t spend five (bad word) billion dollars on accommodations for people we actually like, let alone on our elected representatives in Ottawa.

Look, I am not a design expert, but I’ve watched enough home-renovation shows with my wife and daughter to know you can do some amazing makeovers for a lot less than $5 billion. The stuff they can do with a coat of paint, a roll of duct tape and a few throw pillows is incredible.

So I have come up with a better plan for the money. What we should do is buy every single MP their very own state-of-the-art fighter jet, which we would then park on Parliament Hill. That way we would not only improve our nation’s defence capability, we’d also make the daily Question Period more civil because MPs would be reluctant to heckle one another if they knew the politician on the other side of the House could take them out with a Sidewinder missile.

I have a lot more important thoughts on this issue, but we need to move on to my second political concern, which I became concerned about after reading a news story stating that a town in Italy has taken action to ban one of the greatest threats known to man — the miniskirt.

According to The Canadian Press, which rarely makes this stuff up, the mayor of the southern seaside town of Castellammare di Stabia on Monday persuaded city council to ban miniskirts that are considered too mini.

Mayor Luigi Bobbio wants police, not fashion gurus, to decide just how mini a miniskirt can be. “It’s a matter of common sense, of common decency,” he told reporters. The fine for wearing a too-short skirt is $700.

I’m not suggesting Mayor Bobbio is crazy. I mean, would a crazy man also ban playing soccer in public places, building sandcastles and guys wandering around without their shirts on?

OK, on second thought, maybe Luigi is a few clowns short of a circus, but my main thrust is that politicians aren’t the ones who should decide when a mini is too mini.

No, that’s a father’s main job. I know this because not long ago my wife and I were at a friend’s place for dinner, and his daughter came striding into the room in a skirt so short Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan would have refused to wear it on the grounds it was “too skanky.”

“You’re not going out like THAT!” my friend sagely told his daughter, prompting her to march over to me and demand to know whether, in my professional journalistic opinion, I felt her skirt was too short for the public good.

Fortunately, being a dad myself, I knew exactly what to do — I immediately pretended to pass out in my soup.

Anyway, I hope this has cleared up any touchy political issues you might have as you prepare to vote. If not, feel free to tap me on the back today and ask any question you like.

Just make sure I’m not eating soup at the time.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca