No, I've Never Met Him

Truthfully, there’s nothing I enjoy more than a good rant (and a Coke on ice, if you’ve got one).  A good rant combines two of my favourite occupations:  1) talking and; 2) more talking.  Really, a soapbox is probably my most comfortable perch, no matter what the occasion.  You may ask "What the heck are you talking about, Jo?"  Well, dear reader, it just so happens that I say that very thing to myself all the time.  What I’m talking about is the origin of the term, "Get off your soapbox".  It actually comes from the 19^th century, when impromptu public speakers took to jumping on wooden crates (soapboxes) in order to be better seen and heard by the crowd they were addressing.  (Don’t say I never taught you anything.)  Luckily for me, I’m tall enough not to need a soapbox, because frankly, I would never be able to stand on that small a surface for more than a minute or so anyways.  Balance issues. No, really.

I don’t think you just one day up and become a ranter.  You need to be born with a bee in your bonnet or an axe to grind.  As for me?  Well, my dear old dad was a ranter from way back.  Without even knowing he was doing it, he passed ranting on to me like Kindergarteners spread flu germs at Christmas-time.  (On a side note:  When my boys were actually in Kindergarten, I used to ask them if they sat around in school licking each other all day.  How else do you explain getting that sick, that often?  But I digress…)  Ranting's in my bones, is what I'm saying, and I've finally realized that it's probably best to get it out of my system and down in writing on a quasi-regular basis, rather than assault my friends and loved ones at particularly inappropriate times.  Like in the bathtub, for example.  Long story.  Never mind.

And that’s why I’ve decided to emulate my other male role model in the ranting department:  the elf himself, Rick Mercer.  Little Ricky rants like no one else I’ve ever heard: fast and furious and on the move.  He’s like the Steven Tyler of ranting.  Minus the leather pants and long hair.  What I love is that he’s able to get his point across with intensity and humour, and he always ends with a look.  You know, the kind of look that might get you arrested on a bus.  Yes, for me, Rick is the Stare Master, and I’m not ashamed to go to the Land of Lame Puns for that one.  Rick looks at you and you are in no doubt that you are The One he’s looking at.  Well, maybe you are in doubt, but who cares??  I certainly don't let reality get in the way of a good fantasy…

RM’s rants are usually political in nature.  This figures, since he seems very smart and up on world issues and such.  My rants are going to be smaller in scope.  Potentially a lot smaller, really.  This is because I don’t know tons about politics, but I do know about things that the average Canadian can relate to just as well.  Like what it is to be a forty-something Canadian trying to make ends meet as a part of the Wretched Middle Class and raising children that have (at least) half a brain and manners and more than an outside chance of growing up to become Useful Citizens.  I will rant about the things that tick me off, as well as the things that make me laugh.  If you want to think of it this way:  Where RM’s rants are the meat and potatoes of a rant banquet, my contributions will be more like the dessert course.  They should give you a little thrill each time, and hopefully leave you wanting more. 

Seconds, anyone??