Mark Carney, you had me at free dental

Opinion

I know that I’m preaching to the choir here, Winnipeg, but I’m going to sing the praises of our new Liberal prime minister anyway.

That corny Mark Carney ad with ex-pat Mike Myers and its cryptic Casey and Finnegan references was directed straight at my Gen-X demographic. 24 million views in 24 hours. Not bad for a straight-talking, Oxford-trained economist and a Second City alumnus.

Like many, I squandered my youth in front of the idiot box in my parent’s lightly-mortgaged Crestview bungalow, with a bowl of Fruit Loops precariously perched on my pyjama-clad lap.

“Don’t sit so close, you’ll ruin your eyes,” my mother cautioned. I ignored her imprecations. TV was the iPhone of the 1960s. Yes, TV caused cognitive decline, but at age five I had surplus brain cells to waste.

A 1970s childhood may be the last great decade of innocence for Gen-Xers like Carney, Myers and me. Like Mark Carney and Mike Myers, I grew up in a middle-class family and, like my brother Tim, Carney played goal. Mum stayed home while Dad covered Major League baseball.

Our Gen-X childhoods sound like a lightweight Netflix period series, complete with Chrysler New Yorkers and Partridge Family-esque feathered-hair and striped bellbottoms.

Thanks to my father’s profession, I also logged a lot of time “Down South,” as my parents called Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Oh, sure there were cultural differences, but Americans were just like Canadians — only with more shopping opportunities and warmer winters.

My sportswriter father, John Robertson, was also a stalwart Conservative. So, naturally, I leaned left. How else to rebel against a doting yet domineering parent except at the ballot box?

Despite my best efforts — I’m a dodgy freelance writer who lives in an affordable small town — my modest income qualifies me for the expanded dental care program just announced by the Liberals.

Since I don’t have employee benefits, my last trip to the dentist in December set me back $1,500.

So my earnest attempt to scrimp, forgo worldly pleasures and avoid more debt into 2025 was undermined by unexpected dental expenses.

“I’ll put it on the President’s Choice Mastercard,” I told my spouse since that card was at zero, which was a rare feat for any small business person. The gambling freelancer’s life typically involves 30 days of credit given to your clients. Then you put expenses on credit cards until the money drops.

“Don’t freelance,” dad warned. “Freelancers are bitter. Get a job in a newsroom.” He might as well have said: “Don’t sit too close to the TV.”

After 10 years, “don’t freelance” turned into “Where’s your National Newspaper Award?” You get the idea. There was no pleasing dad.

One act of rebellion was to go door-knocking for Liberal candidate Bev Longstaff in Calgary Centre (Progressive Conservative Joe Clark’s riding) during the 2000 federal election.

Like many progressives, opinion polls in 2024 made me wince. How low can Trudeau go? Just watch him.

“Don’t you support the proposed national daycare program?” I whined to my favourite Co-op cashier, Brenda, an outspoken Orthodox priest’s wife, during the early days of the pandemic.

“I hope Trudeau’s wife gives him COVID,” Brenda replied.

“That’s un-Christian,” I retorted. I can’t believe I deployed the term un-Christian. Maybe small town life has left its mark.

Carney’s current surge in the polls infuriates my Trudeau-hater neighbours. They thought bellicose Saskatchewan Premier Scott Moe, barking-dog Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre and Alberta’s premier, “Sovereignty” Danielle Smith would return the federal Conservatives to power.

Then along came Donald Trump.

The broligarch-turned-second-term-president was dubbed a “short-fingered vulgarian” in ex-pat Graydon Carter’s satiric Spy magazine when Carter and his cheeky editorial team noticed Trump’s hands were too small for his body.

That was back in the bullish, coke-fuelled 1980s when New York real estate moguls made fortunes and smart Canadians, like the future Vanity Fair editor, gleefully took them down a notch.

Thank you, President Trump. Your tariffs, illegal deportations and 51^st-state rhetoric are a gift to our governing Liberals.

On April 28, I predict Pierre Poilievre will suffer a humiliating defeat, Mark Carney will secure a healthy majority and Canadians can finally get a good night’s sleep. (My mid-cycle insomnia abated during Joe Biden’s presidency but returned with a vengeance in November 2024.)

Like it or not, we’re intertwined with Americans, even ex-pats Mike Myers and Graydon Carter. Myers and Carney is a contrarian buddy movie custom-made for the irrational and erratic Trump Era.

Carney, you had me at free dental.

Patricia Dawn Robertson is a freelance writer. Her memoir, Media Brat: a Gen-X memoir, is available on April 8.