The Day Before the Day Before the Day After

Alternate title: Not a Movie About Our Impending Vaporization in a Mushroom Cloud of Doom But it Feels Like it.

Alternate, alternate title: Yeah, About This Election Thing Tomorrow? I'm Feeling Kinda Pukey.

Early on this All Electors Eve morn, I'm doing a lot of thinking. Some of it is right-brain thinking (just now: "Is 'eve morn' an oxymoron?"). Some is left-brain thinking (just after just now: "Who is Eve, and why does she mourn?"). And some is no-brain thinking (enjoying a bowl of delicious and nutritious fruit salad: "Fruit is delicious and nutritious. What was that Feschuck guy going on about?")

But as the pained expression on my face suggests (apart from that I should eat less fruit), mostly I'm doing some gut thinking. Future of This Country thinking. Election thinking. So far, I have this...

Thought 1: I'm not voting Conservative

This will be no surprise to anyone who has had occasion to hear, read (or, in the case of those nosy bastards at CSIS, subpoena from my ISP) my relentless (and by some accounts, sorta kinda amusing) criticism of Stephen Harper's policies on key issues like same-sex marriage and crime. And turtlenecks.

And as my friends well know, I almost always position myself a little to the left of centre on matters of political importance. (Ironically, when it comes to one matter of personal importance, I happen to position myself to a little to the right of centre. But that's nobody's business but my wife's and my tailor's. Well, and now yours. Sorry about that.)

Notice I didn't italicize, underline or otherwise decorate the "not" in "I'm not voting Conservative". This is because, well, I could vote conservative (note the decoration just there). I really could, in the right circumstances.

Those circumstances? Well, the party would have to have as its leader the (as yet only hypothetical) amalgam of Joe Clark and my sixth grade teacher, Mr. Spohr. Clark for his red-Tory sensibilities and the effortless grace with which he carries a set of jowls. And Mr. Spohr because, man, was he cool. Granted, he had kind of a odd name, but dude drove an El Camino. An El Camino. Need I say more?

Oh, and beer. I'd need a lot of beer -- before, after and during the casting of my ballot. Before for the courage, after for the guilt, and during -- well, the during is just to mess with the old ladies running the polling station.

[And as for the "during" part, should you try it, a caution: exposing folks in the act of voting to the label on your can or bottle might be misconstrued as displaying campaign material at a polling place -- an Elections Act no-no. You'll want to avoid brands that can be seen as touting a party or candidate - such as Labatt's Blue™ (Conservative), Rickard's Red™ (Liberal) or Mongoose Malt (Layton).]

Anyway, it's not going to happen. Not this time. I knew Joe Clark-Spohr, and Stephen Harper is no Joe Clark-Spohr.

Also, there's the beer. I fear so many liquid carbs all in one day would force me to postpone, yet again, the launch of my long-promised third blog, justphotosofmyrockhardabs.blogspot.com. I love this country, but I'm not prepared to sacrifice my gut -- and your six-pack viewing jollies -- in the name of good government.

Canada is my nation; it is not my navel.

*