Rick Mercer Report

by Rick Mercer

  Remember: children may be our greatest resource, but beer is our greatest beverage.

  And besides, if it wasn't for beer most of these kids wouldn't have been born anyway.

  Good luck, Canada.

  NET WORTH | NOV. 14, 2006

  Sharing anti-malaria medication with Belinda Stronach at the Hotel Rwanda is not the strangest experience of my life, but it's up there.

  This was two summers ago, and it was near the end of a trip to Africa where we followed Dr. Jeffrey Sachs, director of the Earth Institute at Columbia University, as he visited Millennium Village sites, gave speeches, met with aid workers and lobbied governments. I won't bother raving about Sachs. Suffice it to say the guy is brilliant. Sachs is considered one of the leading economists in the world, and he is the only academic to have been repeatedly ranked among the world's most influential people by Time magazine. Basically I have nothing in common with the man.

  The entire trip to Africa with Belinda and Sachs was truly surreal. I don't think an hour went by where I didn't ask myself how in the hell I got there.

  Before Africa, I didn't know Belinda at all really. I interviewed her when she was a Tory, and between takes it came up that she was a friend of Dr. Sachs. She talked about how brilliant he was, and of course I agreed. What she didn't know was that the entire time she talked about Dr. Jeffrey Sachs I thought she meant Dr. Oliver Sacks, the guy who specialized in bizarre brain disorders and who was portrayed by Robin Williams in the movie Awakenings.

  The more Belinda talked about how much she thought of Sachs and how he helped her out as a policy adviser during her leadership campaign, the stranger I thought Belinda was. I remember thinking, “Why would she want a world-renowned expert on Tourette's syndrome to advise her on a leadership run for the Tories?” I knew many Tory MPs at the time were afflicted with the condition, but I still found it extreme.

  After the interview ended, Belinda told me she hoped to go to Africa with Sachs someday, and she added, “If it ever comes together I'll give you a call.”

  It's not the kind of call you actually expect to get—politicians say all sorts of things during small talk.

  Later, when I realized what an idiot I'd been, I attempted to remedy the situation by purchasing The End of Poverty by Dr. Jeffrey Sachs. It's a very good read, and even though it offers no help for people with brain disorders, I'd recommend it to anyone.

  It was over a year later that Belinda called me up out of the blue—she was heading to Africa, and would I like to come? I said yes. I really had no idea what to expect on such a trip, and when I told friends I was going to Africa with Belinda Stronach, they immediately dubbed the trip “Belinda's Pink Champagne Safari.” I tend to hang with a cynical bunch.

  The trip was put together in record time. I was at the airport before I really found out where we were going. When I saw the list of countries we were visiting, it might as well have been titled “Places Rick has never wanted to go.” Rwanda was on the list. As home of one of the worst genocides in recent history, it was not a destination hot spot in my mind. Ethiopia? Not once in my life had I uttered the phrase, “I'd like to visit Ethiopia someday.” The port of Djibouti was on the list, and not being sure where it actually was, I Googled it, and the first entry I came across described the port as “living hell on earth.” This was not a Pink Champagne Safari.

  I had no idea what to expect, and that was just as well, because nothing would have prepared me. A constant theme of anyone who writes about Africa is the extremes you experience, and my reaction was no different. In Uganda, for example, we spent a day in a village where five thousand people are living in extreme poverty. And even calling it a village doesn't do it justice. The word “village” has a Western connotation that doesn't apply here. Spending a day touring a “village” makes most of us think of a day wasted looking at antique shops and having to suffer the indignity of staying in a bed and breakfast run by batty English people. This wasn't the case here. This “village” had practically no shelter, no water supply, no fuel, near impassable roads, no communications infrastructure, no market and very little in the way of food.

  And if one forgot for a second the inequity of the situation, it was driven home by the evening's agenda: visiting the palatial home of the president of Uganda and watching Sachs and the president hammer out a seven-point aid agreement. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a little hard on the head to spend the day with kids who have never had a real meal in their lives and then spend the evening with some dude who wears a gold hat and has a piano that plays itself.

  I swore before I went to Africa that when I came back I wouldn't be transformed into a hemp-wearing dullard armed with a thousand statistics aimed at depressing everyone around me and ruining whatever occasion I happened to be attending. But I did know that it would have some effect on me, and of course it did.

  For my entire life I've been pretty good at spotting a problem but not so clever at coming up with the right answers. And if the truth be told, quite often when faced with an overwhelming problem, I'm content to believe that the situation is beyond help, and then it's off to the pub.

  This is why getting to know a guy like Dr. Jeffrey Sachs is so dangerous. He's an answer guy, and when you learn the answers and in some cases you see how simple they are, it's hard not to get on board. Which brings me to the “Spread the Net” campaign.

  In Africa over a million kids die of malaria every year. That's pretty overwhelming. It was Sachs, however, who told us that it doesn't need to be that way. The answer is simple, tangible, old-fashioned and cost effective. One of the best tools to fight malaria is a mosquito bednet. The net goes over the bed, and usually two or three kids will sleep under the thing. The net is treated with insecticide and will continue to do its job for over five years. If you buy a kid a net, there's a pretty good chance you can save one or two lives. And the cost? Ten bucks.

  That's what Spreadthenet.org is all about. If you go to the website, you can give ten bucks and a mosquito bednet will be purchased and distributed for free in the first two targeted countries—Liberia and Rwanda.

  Can anyone think of a better way for Canadians to lend a hand? Malaria is spread by mosquitoes. If there is a war that Canadians can get behind, it's the war on mosquitoes. We spend enough of our time coming up with ways to kill them at home; let's spread the love in Africa.

  So at the risk of coming across like the dullard armed with statistics, this past week I went to Montreal with Belinda Stronach and together we launched the Spread the Net campaign. Dr. Sachs was there with us, and at the press conference he spoke about malaria and bednets in a way that I never could.

  It was a big success. The website is simple and straightforward. Everyone seems to like the idea and its simplicity. One net, ten bucks, save a life. Belinda worked the phones like a maniac, and we were in a position to announce that $300,000 had already been raised. That's a lot of nets.

  We all know that Canadians have a huge capacity for helping out others less fortunate, and already lots of people are coming forward with ideas on how individuals, groups, businesses, churches and universities can help spread the net.

  The campaign launch was a great result of an unexpected trip. But I have to admit, my favourite moment was as surreal as the trip itself. There was Dr. Sachs, one of the world's leading economists, a man who spends every waking hour trying to understand the big problems of the world—and then providing the answers. He spoke passionately and eloquently about how we can make a difference in Africa. And when it was over and he had finished speaking, there was a pause, and the first question asked was about Ralph Klein and cracks he made about Belinda's sex life.

  The look on his face was one of total bewilderment.

  Any comment, Dr. Sachs?

  For once he didn't have an answer.

  www.spreadthenet.org

  DIVING WITH

  ALEXANDRE DESPATIE

  The highest platform, Centre

  Claude-Robillard, Mo
ntreal.

  Broadcast Nov. 21, 2006

  DESPATIE: Now we're ready for the big one.

  MERCER: OK, so what do you do—plug your nose?

  DESPATIE: Preferably not. You might need your arms to balance the fall.

  MERCER: Do you cup your gentleman?

  DESPATIE: No, he should be good too—if you fall straight.

  MERCER: That's what you said down there, and I'm injured.

  DESPATIE: OK, so you cup Mr. President.

  MERCER: No, Gail, please.

  DESPATIE: OK—Gail. Sorry. You cup Gail and then you should be ready to fall in.

  THRONE FOR A LOOP

  When Stéphane Dion first became leader of the Liberal party I joined the chorus of pundits telling him to tread carefully and not trigger an election out of the gate by voting against the Throne Speech. Seemed to me the man needed some time to get his house in order.

  Who could have foreseen how opposed to triggering an election he would become? The leader of the opposition is supposed to oppose, whereas the only thing Dion seems to oppose is opposing.

  Eventually he'll have to pull the trigger, but I can't even imagine what it will take to convince him. He seems like a man who not only embraces abstaining but actually gets off on it. I don't know if the man wears a hair shirt under those snappy suits but it wouldn't surprise me.

  As far as getting his house in order? He seems like a somewhat confused home handyman who has all the big power tools and just enough confidence to hack away at the place until it eventually falls down around him.

  Will he eventually triumph and become prime minister of Canada? Stranger things have happened. I can't think of any examples, but…

  DON'T DO IT, DION | OCT. 9, 2007

  There's one week to go to the big Throne Speech and if the Liberals vote against it, boom—there is going to be an election. Which for Stéphane Dion could only be described as a kamikaze move.

  The problem here is you've got all these Liberals and every time they look at Stephen Harper all they see is a bully. And you know what? He is a bully. That's what he does. Unfortunately for the Liberals, he's really good at it.

  I don't know where Stéphane Dion's adviser went to high school, but I'm worried they're buying into this whole “all bullies are cowards” myth. As in, if you stand up to a bully face to face they will drop like a bag of chips. Well, Stéphane, I hate to tell you, brother, but this is not an after-school special, this is a federal election, and sometimes when you stand up to a bully they just punch you in the head even harder. Do yourself a favour, wait a while.

  And the irony here is, this isn't even all Stéphane Dion's fault. It's not his fault the Liberal party has no money. It's not his fault that half the people at Liberal party headquarters have the press gallery on speed-dial. No, he's just the poor sucker who won the leadership race. A prize that apparently comes with a few months in a nice house followed by an ass-kicking.

  Stéphane, I know you're worried that if you don't stand up to big bad Harper you're going to look like a coward, and it's true, you will. But believe me, there are worse things in life than looking like a coward. Being dead, for example—politically speaking of course. So before the big Throne Speech, look in the mirror and you ask yourself: Am I ready for a fight? Because believe me, Stephen Harper does that every day. And every day the answer is yes.

  BACK TO SCHOOL | OCT. 16, 2007

  Parliament has finally reopened and all the members are back at school. I'm worried sick about the little darlings. I just hope they got enough rest, because thanks to Stephen Harper proroguing Parliament, they only got 116 days off this summer. That's like 30 days more than your average grade three student. With that much time lying around, I'm surprised most of them don't have bedsores.

  But all that aside, today was their big day. And just like in grade three, they showed up with their shiny new school clothes on—except for Stéphane Dion.

  Of course, he had his trusty backpack. Now personally, I don't care that the leader of the opposition runs around with an old backpack. What kills me is that he calls it his “lucky” backpack. Of course, luck is subjective.For Stéphane Dion, after today's Throne Speech, getting hit by a bus might seem lucky.

  And then, of course, we have our leader, Prime Minister Harper. One day back and, in case you missed it, he's had enough of this whole minority government thing. He says he doesn't care that only 36 per cent of Canadians voted for him—he's going to proceed like he has an actual majority. Oh, that's really going to work. Imagine if your surgeon said to you, “Oh, by the way, I only passed 36 per cent of my classes but I'm going to proceed like I'm qualified. Now drop your pants and cough.”

  Somehow I can't help but think that this is going to end badly. Especially seeing that, at this point, it looks like both sides are just trying to figure out a way to blame the other side, go home again and have another election.

  Hey, Stephen—here's a novel idea. You got elected to run a country. Why don't you start acting like it, and instead of trying to figure out new ways to close the place down, why don't you do what every other Canadian did well over a month ago and realize summer's over and get back to work?

  SPOUSAL BENEFIT | OCT. 23, 2007

  How about that Throne Speech? Talk about a build-up.

  Usually these things come and go without a peep. But not with this government. Stephen Harper wanted the speech to have the weight of an American State of the Union address and so, for the first time in decades, it aired on the CBC in prime time.

  And boy, there was forty minutes that seemed like four hours.

  I just felt bad for all those Canadians who tuned in looking for Just for Laughs in its regularly scheduled time slot. You can imagine how disappointed they were—they were on the couch after a hard day at work, with their beer open and the chips in the bowl, ready to watch some funny French people scare the hell out of each other, and all they got was some woman in a big throne, sitting next to another guy in a big throne, and she's reading to Stephen Harper out of a storybook.

  Now personally, I love the Throne Speech. If for no other reason than it always makes Canadians think, “What the hell do we have a throne for anyway?”

  And I know that Canada is a constitutional monarchy, and the minute anyone says anything about getting rid of the governor general the place goes up. But as a nation, can we at least agree to get rid of the spouse?

  I mean, it's a little absurd. He does nothing and yet he gets a throne. Meanwhile, the prime minister gets a folding chair, and the head of the Canadian Forces has to stand?

  How about we just take his throne, donate it to an amateur theatre company in Flin Flon, and tell the husband if he wants to watch, he can watch on TV like everyone else?

  And who really wants to go to work with their spouse anyway? How many guys out there have said to their wives, “Honey, I know it's a big deal for you, but I'm not going to your office Christmas party. All you do is talk about work, I don't know anyone and all I do is end up sitting there like an idiot, watching your boss stare at your breasts.”

  Which was basically the Throne Speech in a nutshell. That, and still no mention of a personal income tax cut from so-called Conservatives.

  At least with Just for Laughs, the laughs are intentional.

  IN THE

  ARMY

  NOW

  In politics you hear the phrase “public service” bandied about a lot. I've certainly seen some pretty impressive displays of public service over the years, but the greatest examples have not been on Canadian soil. They've been in Bosnia, Kabul, Kandahar and the Persian Gulf.

  Members of the Canadian Forces have a hard life. Never mind that they often have to risk their lives in the line of duty, but they must do so with a smile and without expressing an opinion.

  Politicians of all stripes like nothing more than to use the Forces as a football for partisan ends. In Canada lately Stephen Harper has taken a page from the Republican playbook and is happy to sug
gest that anyone who disagrees with his policies is somehow against the men and women who wear the uniform of the Canadian Forces. The irony being that the men and women in uniform have absolutely nothing to do with those policies. They simply go to work every day, risking their lives and following the orders of their political masters. In return they get used as pawns at every turn.

  My trips overseas have been among the most exciting and personally rewarding experiences of my life. And no matter what the future holds, no matter what political party is in power, I hope they are visits that can continue.

  O'CONNOR SHOULD KNOW BETTER | OCT. 7, 2005

  Some time in the future I will be visiting with the Canadian Forces in Afghanistan. I agreed, for security reasons, to keep my mouth shut about this. This morning, however, I discovered the Conservatives have no problem talking about the trip and—surprise, surprise—they are outraged.

  In the Toronto Sun, Conservative defence critic Gordon O'Connor has blasted the Department of Defence for allowing “civilians” into a war zone.

  May I suggest that as a former brigadier general, O'Connor should know that wherever there are Canadian troops stationed, there are civilians. Canadian civilians do much of the important support work for our men and women in uniform, including in war zones. And civilians like me, whose skills are woefully limited to strumming a guitar or telling a joke, have been making these trips since World War I.

  It's called entertaining the troops. It's not a great sacrifice on the entertainer's part; in fact, it's a great privilege. Showbiz folk love a captive audience and we will gladly travel across the world and visit a war zone to find one.

  If Canada as a nation is going to have troops positioned abroad, in harm's way, members of the Canadian Forces and their families have to know that the country stands with them. Mr. O'Connor is not sending that message.