Rose's Cantina

#183580963 / gettyimages.com For the first time in my life, I've actually thought about NOT VOTING in an Ontario election. In my four decades of voting, it's always been pretty easy to separate the squirrels from the actual eggs. There were clear choices. In my youth, I veered to the left-ish, liking the NDP but voting Liberal because I believed there were too many wackjobs in the NDP. I could never stomach the Tories. Even the youngins reminded me of my crazy Uncle Ivan who would rail against the gov-ment while he was chain-smoking roll-your-owns. Like most women, the Liberal party seemed reasonable and progressive. So like a reasonably well-educated fembot, I've put the Liberal tramp stamp on my ballot each and every election. Hell, I voted for Dalton McGuinty three times, even though he looked like a psycho killer. Maybe it's because I'm tumbling into the geezerhood vortex, that awesome time in a person'slife when television tells us...

#467876427 / gettyimages.com Last week, I was watching Power Play , the CTV blorgfest chaired by the cherubic Don Martin who was discussing the current state of the job market. According to Martin and panelists, a shocking trend has developed. One third of all people without jobs have simply stopped looking for work. The fate of the unemployed has become a hot button issue in the Ontario election, a hot tamale being tossed back and forth by Tim Hudak who would actually cut cushy public service jobs in favor of good new jobs in the manufacturing sector and Andrea Horwath who would somehow pull jobs out of thin air. The jobless situation also recently turned into a political football at the federal level when it was revealed that employers like McDonald's have been feathering their nests with cut-rate foreign workers rather than hiring Canadians. I was looking forward to hearing some spirited discussion on Martin's program. Instead, I heard this. "Ar...

#108150436 / gettyimages.com For the past six months, I've been sitting in a chair with the ailing pug Gordie. He's blind, incontinent and has separation anxiety, so if I don't sit with him he cries. Sometimes, I feel like I'm in a black-and-white movie, and I'm Baby Jane watching over Blanche. Sometimes, I want to push Gordie's damned wheelchair down the stairs and be done with it. I wouldn't do that, of course. I love the little bugger more than life itself, but I'm starting to resent all the time I have to spend in front of the tellie watching the CTV News Channel. He may be going to Heaven soon, but I'm living in Purgatory, the place between Heaven and Hell, called the Ontario Election. This election sucks the big one. There's not much to choose from. It's kind of like watching TV Land reruns of the Beverly Hillbillies , Beetlejuice and The Facts of Life . Hey Blair, the Eighties are calling; they want their hair...

I was so damned excited that the Ottawa Farmer's Market was opening this weekend, I nearly wet myself. Going to the market has become one of the great rituals of each summer. Scott and I have a route. We start up the left side of Market (which is located if you don't know across from Carleton University, which does its part by trying to gouge visitors for parking even though there is free parking in the neighborhood). We like to compare prices and produce, chat up the farmers, ask them about their winters. Then we veer left talk to the Yak lady and Carleton the Jamaican sauce guy. Along the way, we buy eggs from John the egg guy and some wonderful Lanark cheese. On the right side, there is hot sauce and honey, baby booties and dog biscuits. By the time we're done, in past years, we've dropped $65 on a wonderful variety of colorful gnarly carrots and weird vegetables. The big treat is always, come June, when my homies from Niagara boot down the 401 to deliver lu...

I was sitting outside, enjoying the first blush of spring/summer, considering the fact that Premier Kathleen Wynne was being brave enough to venture deep into the riding of Ottawa South, the former fiefdumb of Dalton McGuinty. I remember last election, I heard this great story about a guy who came to the door to find Premier Dad and his brother David on this doorstoop. "You can stay," he said to David. "You," he said pointing to Dalton. "You, get off my lawn." For years I've lived in Ottawa South and I've always voted for the Liberal Party because old habits die hard. I cut my political teeth working on the Hill for National Liberal Caucus, just a wee girl in search of quality employment, not realizing the experience made me something of a Philip Roth character. I still wear the Human Stain of liberalism even though I haven't been an active Liberal for two decades. It's hurt me workwise, no question, particularly over these many ye...