Everywhere we turn these days – on our televisions, in our newspapers, during three sets a night at our local airport hotel lounge – Stephen Harper is playing the piano. The man who once mocked politicians who’d sink to Giving Something of Themselves to a personality-driven media is now our country’s best hope for a half-decent weekly variety show. My fellow Canadians, I say again unto you: this tip glass isn’t going to fill itself.
In all seriousness, I’m worried that the Conservative leader – who last week proudly proclaimed himself a fruit, presumably because he’s so easily bruised – is letting this whole “I’m actually a human” phase of his get out of control.
Don’t get me wrong: I see the strategic wisdom of showcasing his “softer” side for voters: I love my kids, I play the piano, I feast upon the flesh of man only when we’re out of Eggos. But I don’t think any of us is prepared for a world in which a smiling Stephen Harper emerges from a cabinet meeting, approaches the microphone and utters as his first words to reporters: “Thanks for coming – I baked you muffins.”
This week on the campaign trail: Stephen Harper teaches Mike Duffy how to make crepe paper tulips and sits in with Bob Fife’s barbershop quartet.