Did you hear that Prime Minister Stephen Harper is flying a commercial airline to Beijing next month? He wants to show that he is a man of the people. He is even flying tourist class. It will be an historic occasion. And the beauty is that he has absolutely no idea what he is getting in to.
It starts with his being awoke at 4 am at his taxpayer-provided Sussex Drive residence in Ottawa. He is to be packed and ready to leave for the Ottawa Airport at 5 am for his 7 am flight to Toronto to board his 2:30 pm direct flight from Toronto to Beijing. Grumpy and rushed, but with every hair in place, he is whisked to the airport where the limousine deposits him at the departures entrance. From there, he and his nine pieces of luggage, piled on two luggage carts, begin their journey.
He is recognized by an employee who sometimes votes Conservative and is offered special treatment to ensure he catches his flight to Toronto on time. While he insists on being treated like any other passenger, the security personnel decide to forego the cavity search in his case and he does make the flight. This is despite the confrontation between the Prime Minister and the check-in clerk who said there was no way he was taking all those pieces of luggage to Toronto on the same plane.
The luggage problem was solved by slyly purchasing some empty seats on the flight and crediting the extra luggage to fictitious passengers. It is when he has to take off his shoes to go through security that he used the bad language. A Royal Canadian Mounted Police security guard, nattily attired in a brown RCMP uniform and a turban, tells him that if he does not present a more pleasant image to the other passengers, he will be barred from taking his flight. Flying places in Canada is a privilege, the officer tells him, not a right. He can either follow the rules or walk, he is told.
The Prime Minister’s staff see the all-too familiar ‘prepare to die’ type smile on the PM’s face and seek out the furthest coffee shop away in which to enjoy a cup of coffee. They find him later in the boarding lounge, ruefully examining how a hole in his sock has allowed his big toe to peek at the world. During the flight toToronto, he thoroughly annoys the businessman beside him with a discussion of how uncomfortable steerage class seats are in the aircraft.
It is when he arrives in Toronto and sees the line-up that laps twice around the terminal, to clear security, he understands why he has been told to allow six hours for his connection in Toronto. He immediately identifies himself and demands to speak to the airport manager. When that harried individual is finally brought to him, he demands to know what is going on.
“Well, sir,” the fellow explains, “Some idiot in Ottawa decided that we can handle security in this airport with 300 fewer people. These people make about $10 an hour and a guy making more in a year than these people can make in a lifetime decided that they are too expensive. And if you think you are going to catch a plane today, you better take off your shoes and get back in line. There are no exceptions.”
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Copyright 2012 © Peter Lowry
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