Seriously, why...?

OK. Deep breath.

I love Canada. I am delighted to be a Canadian - and I even chose to become one. I like a lot of the people. I hate the weather, but because my wife and the plum of my loins are Canadian, I only complain about it every winter. And Autumn. And Spring. And those Summer days when the tarmac on the road stops me from walking comfortably.

And maybe this isn't even a complaint about Canada. It's a complaint about the Victorian (as in Queen, not municipal) ethics this province still has. Especially towards alcohol. Actually, pretty much only towards alcohol.

Exhibit 1: one goes to skate or play soccer or watch an event and one is prohibited from consuming an alcoholic beverage in public. Regardless of whether you are sharing a celebratory glass of champagne, a fine 1998 Bordeaux, a 1789 cognac, or a can of Labatt 50, you're a criminal if you do it in Ontario. It smacks far too much of spontaneity and fun, and we can't be having that in Doug Ford's Ontario.

Exhibit 2 (and I will stop here): one goes to one's official purveyor of alcoholic beverages - all state owned, mind you - and one tries to purchase a bottle of one's favourite whisky. (Laphroaig, in case you were thinking of tracking one down for me.) Despite the £ being at its lowest level since Edward Heath was preparing a bout of union bashing and three-day weeks, the price of said alcohol has remained steadfastly inflated. What costs £20 in a UK supermarket (currently $30 CDN) is still being sold for $80. And this for the past three years. 

Now, as a proud taxpayer, I am well aware that what we all contribute enables the quality of life we all share. So, that's fine. But do I have to make all these extra payments for Ford's anti-carbon-tax stickers myself? Because that is what it feels like at the moment...