Doug and Randy are probably right; Rob has taken the populist stuff just a little too far. Being a man of the people is all very well, but not when it comes to certain things — including, above all, the car you drive. A late-model minivan simply doesn’t cut it, not when you’re the mayor of Toronto.
And a Ford.
Sometimes a man must be true to his roots. Though Rob tried to make it clear he was happy with his biscuit tin, Roug and Dandy, er, Doug and Randy, know better.
That’s why they bought him a Cadillac Escalade for his 43rd birthday. It’s not just that the poor hard-working stiff deserves a better set of wheels, but he’s, well, a Ford.
They may not always look or sound like it, but the Fords are rich. Rich enough that Doug and Randy could go out and buy Rob a top-of-the-line SUV that sells for upwards of $86,000.
That’s a fair whack of cash, certainly more than most of us could afford to plunk down for such a toy. And as much as we non-Fords might love our siblings — and their vehicles — few would feel quite so magnanimous in our choice of birthday gifts.
No wonder poor blushing Rob was uncomfortable in his usual inarticulate manner; but his more voluble older brother, Doug, laughed it off.
“We showed up with the car,” Doug told reporters, “and he couldn’t say no. He said, ‘Hey, this isn’t me.’ I said, ‘Well you have no choice, you’re driving it now.’”
Rob’s van was a heap, Doug explained. “It was worn out. The thing is shaking. The guy had it for years. I wouldn’t even ride in it.”
And why should he? He, too, is a Ford, a one-percenter, plutocrat and luxury SUV driver, in his case a Lincoln Navigator.
Like it or not, now at least Rob is being true to his roots, not some misguided image of himself as a regular guy, Mr. Everyman.
But given how adamantly the mayor has refused a city chauffeur and insisted on driving his own vehicle — against Doug’s wishes —Torontonians can’t help but feel a little sympathy for a man having an Escalade forced upon him, even worse, in public.
Unlike Doug, Rob doesn’t make a display of his wealth. Though we know he has never had to worry about the next paycheque, so far we haven’t held that against him. We might feel differently if he had graduated from Harvard (like his predecessor, David Miller), if he wore clothes that fit him, if he wasn’t always sneaking out at night for KFC and beer, if he weren’t one of us.
As the Fords understand, vehicular symbolism resonates deeply in Toronto, a city that has sacrificed more on the altar of the car than just about any other North American city north of Phoenix. Miller got around in a Toyota Prius but did have a driver, paid for by the city.
This wasn’t something Rob could accept; indeed, until he became mayor he refused even to hire staff to help him do his job. If then-councillor Ford couldn’t do it himself, it didn’t get done.
Though this led to him being acknowledged as the most ignorant and ill-prepared member of council, voters could rest assured he wasn’t wasting their hard-earned tax dollars.
Wasting your own money is another matter, especially when you’ve inherited millions and, unlike the 99 per cent, can afford it.
Original Article
Source: the star
Author: Hume, Christopher
And a Ford.
Sometimes a man must be true to his roots. Though Rob tried to make it clear he was happy with his biscuit tin, Roug and Dandy, er, Doug and Randy, know better.
That’s why they bought him a Cadillac Escalade for his 43rd birthday. It’s not just that the poor hard-working stiff deserves a better set of wheels, but he’s, well, a Ford.
They may not always look or sound like it, but the Fords are rich. Rich enough that Doug and Randy could go out and buy Rob a top-of-the-line SUV that sells for upwards of $86,000.
That’s a fair whack of cash, certainly more than most of us could afford to plunk down for such a toy. And as much as we non-Fords might love our siblings — and their vehicles — few would feel quite so magnanimous in our choice of birthday gifts.
No wonder poor blushing Rob was uncomfortable in his usual inarticulate manner; but his more voluble older brother, Doug, laughed it off.
“We showed up with the car,” Doug told reporters, “and he couldn’t say no. He said, ‘Hey, this isn’t me.’ I said, ‘Well you have no choice, you’re driving it now.’”
Rob’s van was a heap, Doug explained. “It was worn out. The thing is shaking. The guy had it for years. I wouldn’t even ride in it.”
And why should he? He, too, is a Ford, a one-percenter, plutocrat and luxury SUV driver, in his case a Lincoln Navigator.
Like it or not, now at least Rob is being true to his roots, not some misguided image of himself as a regular guy, Mr. Everyman.
But given how adamantly the mayor has refused a city chauffeur and insisted on driving his own vehicle — against Doug’s wishes —Torontonians can’t help but feel a little sympathy for a man having an Escalade forced upon him, even worse, in public.
Unlike Doug, Rob doesn’t make a display of his wealth. Though we know he has never had to worry about the next paycheque, so far we haven’t held that against him. We might feel differently if he had graduated from Harvard (like his predecessor, David Miller), if he wore clothes that fit him, if he wasn’t always sneaking out at night for KFC and beer, if he weren’t one of us.
As the Fords understand, vehicular symbolism resonates deeply in Toronto, a city that has sacrificed more on the altar of the car than just about any other North American city north of Phoenix. Miller got around in a Toyota Prius but did have a driver, paid for by the city.
This wasn’t something Rob could accept; indeed, until he became mayor he refused even to hire staff to help him do his job. If then-councillor Ford couldn’t do it himself, it didn’t get done.
Though this led to him being acknowledged as the most ignorant and ill-prepared member of council, voters could rest assured he wasn’t wasting their hard-earned tax dollars.
Wasting your own money is another matter, especially when you’ve inherited millions and, unlike the 99 per cent, can afford it.
Original Article
Source: the star
Author: Hume, Christopher
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