When I was a boy in Ireland, I was often taken to the Christmas Pantomime. A familiar story acted out with good guys, bad guys and a beautiful princess. Somebody onstage yelling, "Oh no I didn't!" And hundreds of kids in the audience roaring, "Oh yes you did!"
Big, broad comedy-drama. The villain returning onstage after a costume change to a chorus of boos. All arched eyebrows and sneer, he says, "I can see you missed me." Uproar. And always one kid, a bit slow on the uptake, shouting back, "Oh no we didn't!"
Little did I know how this experience would help prepare me for life. Give me a perspective on things, especially this election campaign experienced through television. The reckless coalition question - "Oh yes he would!", "Oh no he wouldn't!" - Harper says Ignatieff is the villain; he's got the eyebrows and blows kisses, like a sissy. Just look at him, he's shifty. Come on Canada, just boo him. Hiss, too.
Ignatieff says Harper's the villain. He's surly, a bully with a face that would stop a clock, and angry about everything. Boo, hiss. And boring, too. The kind of person who compels you to think it would a great idea to buy paint, put it on a big wall and watch it dry. Not like Ignatieff, the suave one, the smooth operator, a Russian, cosmopolitan chap with stories to tell. Cocktails he's had in Harvard and London.
The other day, Harper suggested he's like to meet this Ignatieff villain, one-on-one. Oh, they can call it a debate, but it's two gunslingers meeting on the street. Let's see this Ignatieff man-up. So Ignatieff goes all, "Any time, pal, any old time." Gasps. Maybe he really is the cool, clean, not-boring hero. Hesitant cheers.
Next thing - because this outlandish posturing has to go back and forth to cheers, jeers and gasps - Harper backs off. No one-on-one. So Ignatieff "issued an open letter" (nailed it to a pole or something, on the street where gunslingers meet, near the saloon where Ignatieff has bourbon and Harper has the Sarsparilla) suggesting that they should still do it. A come-on-scaredy-cat open letter. The audience hugged itself with glee.
Meanwhile, the nice lady from the Green Party - the Beautiful Princess, perhaps - isn't allowed to participate in the leaders' debate. Ooooh, what are those boys afraid of? Boo, hiss. Elizabeth May looks like the kindly, common-sense lady, the one who might tell the boys to stop being mean to Jack, because he hurt his hip and is not as fast as the other boys. And tell Stephen to stop being mean to Michael with these ridiculous attacks ads, and tell Michael to stop looking smug about this one-on-one thing. They'd look at the floor and everyone watching would go "Yeah!" And cheer.
Eventually someone will emerge as the real villain, the one who struts out and says, "I hate you all!" And points at the audience, or the TV camera, saying, "And I especially hate that little boy over there!" Boo, hiss. Bound to happen. Oh yes it will.