St. Jim Flaherty’s Whitby-Oshawa fiefdom is, Frank hears, to stay in the family after all. Already ably represented on the provincial side by the Widow O’Booze, Christine Elliott, now, we hear Galen, one of the Flaherty triplets, is poised to inherit pater’s federal nomination.
“At the end of the day, he was my father because he showed me what it takes to be a man and he gave me an example that I will aspire to for the rest of my life,” Galen announced at the state funeral for the Great Irish CanadianTM, and nobody doubts but he has sizeable snifters to fill.
Conspicuous by its absence, though, is any invitation for loyal family retainer Dr. Kellie Leitch, to help out with the campaign.
The craggily handsome Labour Minister had been Flaherty’s shield bearer for years, and toiled on Jimbo and Christine’s failed his-and-hers campaigns for the Ontario PC leadership in 2002 and 2009, respectively.
She’d be the perfect old hand to guide callow Galen, 23, to his electoral inheritance.
But bad blood still persists in the family. Flashback to the National Festival of Flaherty, into which Dr. Leitch was thought to inject herself overmuch in the funerary proceedings–from the order and composition of the speakers’ roster right down to the flower arrangements.
Much resentment from Christine in particular, who didn’t want to speak at the funeral but was pushed into it by Kellie. Leitch can’t help it. She’s a take-charge kinda gal, as the steady turnover of victims in her office attests.
The various contradictory versions of Leitch’s attendance over Jimbo’s final exit (Franks passim) led to some uninformed speculation and idle conjuring of mentor-with-benefits scenarios, all of them ludicrous and composed of some of the worst possible mental images of 2014 besides.
As press gallery junior spoilsport Justin Ling grumped in a May 28 Loonie Politics column decrying septic-minded capital tattle, “Jason Kenney is not gay. Laureen Harper is not a lesbian. Kellie Leitch was not sleeping with Jim Flaherty.”
Dr. Leitch is most assuredly not a goer. Just ask Lee Richardson.
According to party folklore, when the indefatigable Tory horndog emeritus, on the rebound from CBC hackette Krista Erickson, tried to get tactile with Leitch, the good doctor nearly broke his jaw.
Lee concluded she must be a sushi enthusiast – how otherwise could she resist the ol’ Richardson magic? – and moved on to more viable conquests.