Serendipity doo-da

Like the rest of the world, Ottawa is beginning to experience a surge in Omicron cases, leading to the inevitable conclusion that we are all, not to put too fine a point on it, fucked.

We're not as fucked as the UK, who have The Great TeleTubby Tosspot in Charge. We're not as bad as the USA who are still dealing with the reign of The Orange One. We are not doing as bad as many other places. Our national leader is a slightly fay but well-meaning man, who has possibly out-performed his potential but is quite impressive when he gets pissed off. He does yoga, so he doesn't get pissed off enough. His government has done very well in procuring and distributing vaccines... however.

However. In Canada, health care is a provincial jurisdiction, and in Canada, we currently have the world's largest collection of second-rate muppets running the provinces. I think this must have a lot to do with the Job Description of a Provincial Premier. I mean, really, who wants to be a provincial politician? With municipal government, you are serving those you live with; with federal government, you get to take the piss out of Boris Johnson and meet and admire the Finnish Prime Minister. But the provinces?

Half of their lives are spent arguing that they need more money and the other orders of government aren't doing their jobs properly; the other half is defending their record and saying it has to be seen in the light of the other orders of government not doing their jobs properly.

Enter Doug Ford, the idiot's idiot. Now that Trump has gone and Johnson looks like he will either give up the ghost voluntarily or go full Ides of March on us, Ford is in the running for the western world's biggest moron award (against, admittedly, stiff competition from south of the border). His handling of the Covid crisis has been exemplary - as in Jimmy Savile being an exemplary fundraiser for hospitals. (Too soon?)

He's hummed and ha'ed, mismanaged, complained, flip-flopped, delayed, procrastinated, flatulated, changed his mind, misled, confused, cried, you name it. He is the sort of narcissist who believes his life happens in his head. He is like Keith Talent in the Martin Amis novel Money. Except, instead of going on TV with his girlfriend before his big darts match (not understanding that his wife might see it and find out about said girlfriend), Ford gives press conferences where he alternatively slams the federal government for closing the borders and ruining Ontario's business strategy and slams the federal government for not closing the borders quickly enough because they have caused the virus to spread). As I said, the moron's moron.

Anyway. 2 million vaccines will be available between today and January, which is great. Except Ontario has a population of 15M and and and... you get the picture.

So having picked up Ottawacker Jr. from his last day of school, I was instructed by She Who Must Be Obeyed to go to Shoppers Drug Mart, post the Christmas Cards she had written, pick up a pizza (it's not delivery, it's Delissio) and enquire if they might be doing the third does for people "Over 50", which we now identify as.

I ask. The pharmacist looks at me and says, "No". Then, astounded that someone might have had the gall to actually come to a pharmacy and ask for a shot, he says "wait a minute". He goes to the back, finds out that there is one shot of Pfizer in a vial from the afternoon's session, and if I want it, I can have it.

Having spent the best part of a week checking provincial web sites for an opening and trying to book the shot, I accepted it willingly.

"You're a lucky bastard," he said. "I'd buy a lottery ticket if I were you."

So I did.