In the sweltering heat of the midday sun in Fairview's West today, a distinctive White Porsche pulled up beside our news team's van. We had been expecting the arrival of a certain Dr. Colin Trudeau, a professor from the University of Manly Bays. Eight men all in tuxedos all got out of the car, one by one, one after another. "How on earth did they all fit in that car", I asked my sound assistant Simon. Simon proceeded to look into the car before being shouted at by the angry Russian driver who smelt strongly of stale tobacco smoke and roll-on deodorant, (I tell you this was not a good concoction of odors, and briefly distracted me from the goings-on of the hustle and bustle of the first ever party conference of The True Party.
Then, a thunderstorm of cameras blinded my vision; he had arrived. The most controversial professor of our time; Dr. Colin Trudeau. The Canadian-born ex basket ball player, chef, events organiser and relationship therapists. I noticed he was just a tad bit of an attention seeking ego maniac, rolling in on a army tank - which I thought as cleaver, given his short time working as a chef in the army. But then I saw the circus following him - nineteen cheerleaders (I counted), a rent a crowd of about two hundred carrying streamers, free flags and fruit, flag bearers, a bass band, the local footy team and a tame lion. Good grief I thought - this is going to be a long day.
Inside you could have been forgiven you were at a large book club meeting - very low key and slightly dull. The only entertainment, if you could call it that, was photos at the front with a life size cardboard cut-out of Mr. Trudeau himself and a complementary glass of Strawberry champagne. Me, Simon and the crew sat in our seats for what seemed like forever, twiddling our thumbs, suffering from the heat which was now finding its way inside and creating puddles of sweat in our pores.
For all the fuss outside, there only appeared to be around two hundred people in attendance (not including the media), and a smell of hot bodies was beginning to fill the room. I had finished my unsatisfying budget champagne and now sat goggle-eyed at the the projector-screen, which was now just showing the Windows Seven screen saver.
A loan boy handing out what appeared to be left over airline lollies (probably from Trudeau's many travels) was quickly scuffled out of the way as the man of the hour arrived. "What's taken him so long?" I asked Simon, before I noticed Simon had stealthily drifted off for a kip.
The unveiling was very low key, and to be honest half the audience looked glum and Trudeau read through not one, not two, not even fifty; but two hundred and twenty one (I counted again) of his policies. Which all sounded to me like;
- Harness rain water.
- Encourage wind power.
- Kick start community gardens and orchards.
- Lower taxes in all fields for working families.
You know, the cliche promises which appeal to the modern day voter who isn't looking for much more but to do as little as possible and still reap the maximum benefits of a society working together. Then, however the promises got a little odd;
- Repeal unions and replace them with Government "Watch dogs".
- Free books of all religions to all school children.
- Community bars serving nothing but purified water.
Then they got very, very strange;
- Free paint jobs to all fire stations who have at least seven serving members, all married and with at least four children or at least know three children.
"This is a joke" I said. When the ordeal was over. I tried discussing the policies with party members, but all they seemed to remember were the cliche community gardens and wind power stations.
"Mr. Trudeau" I said, when it was finally my turn for a interview, "I just wanted to say I've been working in media for thirty-five years and never have I ever, ever seen something as utterly ridiculous and full of crap as that. This whole room smells of cow dung and a small child as thrown-up in the bathroom, please tend to this rented hall and clean it up, if you have any chance of cleaning up this country you might want to start my cleaning up this pigsty"
And with that, I picked up my jumper and walked off, with at least half the media staring in awe.
Rudolph Campbell.
