Maxed Out 

Sidebar/callout: Hey boys and girls, here’s another Democracy In Action exercise. Clip this out, sign it and send it to the faxes listed. Or for your techies, copy it from the Web site to your e-mail and send it to these cyber addresses.

Ujjal.Dosanjh.Office@leg.bc.ca (250) 387-0087

Gerard.Janssen.Office@leg.bc.ca (250) 387-4348

Graeme.Bowbrick.Office@leg.bc.ca (250) 387-6411

Paul.Ramsey.Office@leg.bc.ca (250) 387-5594

ted.nebbeling.mla@leg.bc.ca (250) 387-2731

 

Write on

Hon. Ujjal Dosanjh, Premier of all British Columbia

Hon. Gerard Janssen, Minister of Small Business, Tourism and Culture

Hon. Graeme Bowbrick, Attorney General and Minister Responsible for Human Rights

Paul Ramsey, Minister of Finance & a Bunch of Other Stuff

Ted Nebbeling, Homeboy

Dear Honis:

May I take this opportunity to wish you all a very happy and prosperous New Year? Oh, I forgot; at least four of you are biting your nails wondering whether 2001 may be you own personal space odyssey back to the obscurity of the private sector, what with elections looming, the provincial economy still in the toilet, scandals past and present and fickle voters who always seem to be itching for a change. But take heart, the Liberals are still led by Mr. Campbell whose personal score on the Trust-O-Meter is solidly lodged between Coiled Snake with Rattling Tail and Crazed Psychotic with Loaded Gun. Anything could happen.

But since we’re at least several months from election time, I’ll go out on a limb and assume you gentlemen are still interested in running the province as opposed to splashing around with the rest of the lame ducks.

We’re having a little problem up here in Whistler. You may have heard of Whistler. If not, ask Ted; he has at least a passing familiarity with the place.

Whistler is a town conceived and built to invite the world here to have a good time. In that regard, we have been a tremendous, unprecedented success. Think about it, 40 years ago, this place was nothing – a couple of homes and a few rundown fishing lodges. Thirty-five years ago, it was a pipedream. In the span of many of our lifetimes, Whistler has gone from being nothing to being the wormhole where millions of tourists’ dollars fly out of their pockets and magically appear in yours, metaphorically speaking, of course.

Ironically – in that uniquely Canadian, destroy the successful, way – now that we’re so adept at drawing a couple million people here each year and slickly separating them from their money, the Miss Grundys of the province want to tone things down, throw up the revival tents and hold temperance meetings lest someone start to have too much of a good time. Hallelujah, Brother.

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