Politics 101

May 22nd saw me attending my first All-Candidates forum as a participant. I was proud to represent the Northern Ontario Party this past Tuesday at The Parkside Older Adult/YMCA Centre. Five other candidates from my riding, Nickel Belt, and six from the neighbouring riding of Sudbury gathered at the invitation of The Canadian Association of Retired Persons and Friendly to Seniors–Sudbury. The event was a great success for everyone…except me.

I went in supremely confident. Why not? I'm a decent speaker and seniors love me. (It comes from being a writer—I like stories and am a great listener, especially when it comes to local history.) Two weeks of preparation had my brain stuffed with senior-friendly facts and figures. I had my talking points down pat. Audience-friendly anecdotes were rehearsed to perfection. And I even had a quiver full of witticisms ready to hurl at my opponents if need be.

Three words ran through my head on the drive in from Capreol, I got this. Stepping through the door and seeing the large crowd didn't throw me. I got this, I reminded myself. Even as I my turn to speak arrived, the phrase I got this dominated. Then I opened my mouth and realized: I don't got this!

All my carefully researched numbers were gone. My practiced slogans had fled. I had so many things to say about Nickel Belt and the NOP that nothing came out…or at least nothing coherent. The only thoughts running through my head were Johnny Cash lyrics and, believe it or not, I came within a hair of breaking out in an a-cappella version of "A Boy Named Sue"!

Instead I resorted to that stereotypical all-Canadian response and apologized. Repeatedly and profusely. About the only thing I did right was mention my website: www.nickelbeltnop.wixsite.com/nickelbeltriding

To say my opening remarks went "poorly" would be an understatement. A brain-damaged orangutan would have been more eloquent.

It didn't help that all the other candidates were so damn good. I expected the incumbents to shine. France Gélinas and Glenn Thibeault have had years to hone their craft and it shows. But even my fellow political neophytes spoke eloquently and to the point. Each and every one is a credit to their riding.

On stage I discovered an important fact: there is a big difference between chatting up a handful of pensioners at the local coffee shop's BS table and addressing a roomful of politically active seniors. Waves of expectation rolled off the audience and, I'll admit I got flustered. It was all I could do to string together a few dozen semi-intelligent words, mumble my thanks, and escape the limelight's harsh glow.

Then sitting there stewing in my failure, I remembered a story about Canada's first Prime Minister, John A. MacDonald. Old John A. was a notorious drinker and once showed up to a debate so drunk that, mid-way through his opponent's opening remarks, MacDonald vomited all over the stage.

If I had the ability to throw-up on command I would have done it during my opening remarks, trust me I was that desperate for a distraction. But it was how MacDonald reacted to his intestinal faux-pas that inspired me. He didn't slink off in embarrassment or apologize. Instead he smiled and said, "I vomit whenever I hear my opponent speak!" That line, improvised on the spot, won him the debate.

So I took a page out of the Sir John playbook and tried again.

Gerry, the panel moderator, knew that the main party candidates would dominate the Q&A portion and did something smart. Since the big three are, in all likelihood, going to be the ones forming government, the audience wanted to focus on them. But every candidate was given a token and with it the opportunity to "buy" into a topic.

I waited for a Health Care question and jumped in…only to fall flat on my face again. If not as badly as the first time.

What I wanted to say was this:

The other candidates keep talking about how much they'll spend to fix Ontario's health care—and we all agree it needs more money—but billions won't fix the underlying problems. For that we need an attitude change. Politicians and administrators need to abandon the "More is Better" mindset. More money, more locations, more staff is not the answer. First we need to make health care smarter. Instead of pouring taxpayer dollars into a flawed system we should plug the leaks that waste hundreds of millions needlessly.

How much goes to our bloated bureaucracy instead of front-line medicine? We need management but sometimes it seems Ontario's hospitals have more office-types than doctors or nurses.

Parties spout clever catchphrases about "Patient-oriented medicine" and "Patient Rights", but what does that mean? For too long it's meant corporate medicine—confusing efficiency and cost-effectiveness for care. Bigger and busier hospitals might make economic sense but who wants assembly-line medicine…not me.

Big corporations dominate modern home care. The same is true with senior care. How many of you ever experienced quality customer service from a corporation? It takes me twenty minutes to get an actual human being on the phone just to get my Internet up and running and that's usually after going through the options three times! And these giant faceless companies are the ones we're trusting to care for our most vulnerable?!

Profits before people is no way to run health care. We need to return to small town medicine. When every town had a doctor's office and you could ring for a house call day or night. Maybe it's nostalgic but those were the good old days, when the local sawbones delivered one generation, tended a second, and buried the third. Whole families were looked after by a single health care professional.

Now we have multi-doctor-clinics where you get whomever happens to be on call. No doubt they're highly skilled but it's tough to trust someone you don't know…and medicine is all about trust.

Big corporations don't care about trust. Big corporations don't care about anything except turning a profit.

My experiences with assistive devices have proven this. I required an expensive piece of equipment and contacted a large health care company who, they assured, would "Take care of me." They quoted a price that made my hair stand on end but time was critical. Then I went and found a charity grant to pay for and suddenly, when they found the deep pockets of government wasn’t involved, the price dropped by two-thirds!

That’s one example. How many others are out there? How much is this costing Ontario taxpayers? None of the other parties seem concerned. But the NOP knows every penny counts.

Unfortunately I only got about half of it out and not in any sort of order either. Still, it wasn’t as bad as my opening remarks. It gave me a bit of confidence and I managed to pull myself together and deliver a slightly more coherent closing (nary an apology in sight!). No one not directly related to me would call it “good” but by that point “adequate” was a huge victory.

I learned a valuable lesson from my first event as a candidate: It turns out you can over prepare. Too much information is worse than not enough, for me at least. I’ll know not to try and cover every contingency next time. Better to stick to three or four main points and hit them over and over again. There’s a reason politicians have “talking points”!

The night would have been a complete failure but for one thing: the kindness of strangers. From the moderator to the organizers, everyone was welcoming and supportive. Several of my fellow candidates even came over after the debate with words of support.

Politics may make strange bedfellows, but at heart we’re all people doing our best. So, to those opponents who offered me comfort, I say “Thanks”. We’ll meet again on the campaign trail and I will put your advice into practice. Until then, good luck.

That said I still disagree with the policies you’re putting forward…but in a respectful fashion.

Remember "Together We Stand". Vote NOP.

Mat