Ground Control to Major Tom/Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong
Governor-General Julie Payette‘s work-to-rule campaign continues.
The Rt. Hon. space cowgirl has proven protective of her personal space, and chafed mightily under the endless regimen of medal distributions, charity beanfests and other boring vice-regal burdens, uneasy lies the head, etc., etc.
Her septuagenarian predecessor David Johnston may have endured these ass-numbing chores with good humour, but our Julie’s a busy gal, with weekends booked off for a little l’etat-c’est-moi time in Montreal, weekday tensions relieved with assiduous self-care at the Chateau Laurier’s gym.
Meanwhile, Rideau Hall staff work overtime to keep up with the sheer volume of Payette’s event cancellations and charities newly dropped from her patronage dance card.
Her Excellency’s latest labour-saving innovation? Tonight’s annual Halloween spectacle for the great unwashed at Rideau Hall, with an extraterrestrial theme, natch!
“Citizens of planet Earth have always wondered what happens beyond our galaxy and keep questioning the idea of extraterrestrial life,” the bumph from Rideau Hall advises. “This enigma will be resolved this year as aliens invade the grounds of Rideau Hall. Are they friendly? What do they want from us? Do we share anything in common? It is up to you to find out!
“Many new and exciting activities await visitors! Be amazed by our Halloween-themed miniature village, invaded by creatures from outer space. Learn about space exploration by participating in educational demonstrations led by the Canada Aviation and Space Museum. Take photos in our decorated photo booth and with the many extraterrestrial characters roaming the site and our spooky path.”
The only thing missing? Her Excellency: “Rideau Hall staff will be on hand to distribute goodies to trick-or-treaters of all ages.”
UPDATE: Despite Rideau Hall’s aggressive downward management of expectations, the Governor General did indeed show up at her own party, did so in passable costume (one of her old flight suits, rescued from the vice-regal closet) and even endured light small talk with the proles. Candy distribution was delegated to Her Excellency’s flunkies. Pip, pip!