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How to tell the wheat from the chaff

"Hello." Uh-oh, no response. Fookin' auto diallers. "Hello idiot machine." No... I hear breathing. I hear... eewwwuu... what the....
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"Hello."

Uh-oh, no response. Fookin' auto diallers.

"Hello idiot machine."

No... I hear breathing. I hear... eewwwuu... what the....

The sound coming through the receiver was a grotesque horrorshow combination of irregular, sub-human sounds, semi-liquid, death-rattle breathing, horking and - I'm only guessing here - a polyglot of English, spittle Yiddish and complete gibberish. And after a long silence, at which point I began to think whomever was phoning had died, "Duuuuude... where the f@*k are you?"

Naw. Couldn't be.

"Duuuuude...."

"J.J.?"

"Dude, where are you. Like, I really need to talk to you. What are you doing... down there in Spooksville."

It all made sense now. The eerie sounds coming through the receiver were the result of a lifetime of bad diet, chainsmoking unfiltered Gauloises Bleues, jungle fever, latent malaria and what J.J. Geddyup - Whistler's only private eye, albeit, congenitally unemployed - comically referred to as livin' the dream.

"Being dudiful, J.J. A little momcare. Don't you read my column?"

"You still writing that twaddle? Man, Barnett must really be out of his mind."

"No, just well insured. Why - and I'm not certain I really want to know - are you calling me, J.J.? And for that matter, how did you get this number?"

"You think I've forgotten how to track down deadbeats? Oh ye of little faith."

"Touché. What do you want? I can't buy you a beer long distance."

"No problemo. You'll owe me. I need your advice, Dude."

"You never take my advice, J.J."

"Maybe not. But I listen to it."

"A distinction without a difference. So what's the problem?"
"Dude, did you know there was an election coming up next month?"

"I think I'd heard something about that."

"Do you know there's like 25 or a hundred people running?"

"Yeah. It's a pretty big field. Maybe a sign of the recession." I'm suddenly frozen with fear. "J.J., you... you're... tell me you didn't file nomination papers. You're not running for office, are you?"

"You wound me, Dude. How desperate you think I am?"

Sigh of relief.

"No. The problem is, how in the hell can I make sense of this field. I mean there's dudes I've never even heard of running for office. And I'm not talkin' about the obvious whack jobs. I mean, they must be kind of serious. Either that or they're gluttons for punishment."

"Ah, the old too many choices, not enough information conundrum."

"'xactly. So whom should I vote for?"
"Whoever you think's most qualified?"

"Now you're just messin' with me. That's the problem, Dude. How do you figure that out?"

"How do I figure that out? I just wait 'til they come to me and ask for an endorsement and then I grill 'em to see what they know and what they believe. Usually it only takes a question or two to figure out who knows spit from shinola."

"Too literal. I meant how do I figure out who's best. None of them are going to come talk to me."

"Ah, I see your problem. Well, there's always the all-candidates' debutante ball. You can go to that."

"I don't think that's going to help much. Two hours at Millennium Place with like a hundred candidates and 200 seats ain't gonna be too informative."

"They're holding it at MY Place? Tell me you're kidding. Jeez, why not have it in a closet... with pay parking. MY Place? They won't even fit all the candidates on stage. Who came up with that bright idea? Never mind, I don't want to know. Is WORCA doing their speed-dating thing?"

"I think I heard something about that. Yeah, some time around the end of the month."

"That's a good one. You get to watch 'em one-on-one and maybe even ask them a question."

"What should I ask them?"

"Well, you might ask them why they're running? What they've done? Whether they've read the community charter, the RMOW financial plan, Whistler 2020... you know, the basic stuff they ought to be familiar with unless they're just planning to wing it and get by on their good looks and barroom bulls%#t."

"I've never even heard of a lot of these people."

"I'm sure a lot of them have never heard of you either. But that is a good point. What have they done? Have they been active volunteers in the community? Have they served on any of the many boards? Seen 'em at council meetings or open houses or public information sessions? I don't think living here, being pissed off and needing a job is enough of a qualification."

"A lot of them say they want to represent the 'average' Whistler family. That sounds good."

"Sounds good if you consider yourself average... which no one I've ever met in this town does. Besides, the average family is already over-represented on council. Grant's raised his family here, so has Eckhard, Ken, Ralph and Ted and to some extent Tom. I think if that's all they have to offer they're better off going back to sleep."

"You're not makin' this any easier, you know."

"Read their websites... with a critical eye. After all, their sites are just their own advertising. Gloss ain't substance. Go to the Meet the Candidate coffees and other gatherings. They'll all have 'em if they're at all serious. If you get a chance to ask them anything, ask them what they think the role of local government is. If they say things like sewer, water and roads, that's a good start. If they say trade missions to China, be worried. Find out what they've done in their life. Have they managed tough operations in tough times or just been dutiful employees? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but these are tough times. Can they make hard decisions and stand by them or will they cave at the first sign of protest?"

"What about the guys running for re-election? How do I sort them out?"

"J.J., no offence but if you have to ask that question, I'd just as soon you not vote."

 

"What do you mean? Isn't it my duty to vote?"

"No. It's your duty to be informed and engaged. If you don't know where you stand on people who have been making decisions in the public eye for the past three, six or more years, you haven't been paying attention and, frankly, I'd just as soon you stay home on voting day. The decisions of the uninformed are rarely good decisions."

"That's harsh, Dude."

"Life's harsh. If you don't like it, replace the election process with something people understand."

"Like what?"

"Survivor. We can winnow the field down if we vote 20 per cent of 'em off the island every week for the next four weeks. Ought to make the final decision easier."

"I kinda like that idea."

"I was sure you would. Later, Dude."

"But you still owe me that beer."