A letter to the Mayor

Dear Mayor Tremblay,

What’s up? Long time no speak. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. We all know that times are tough in the city: the traffic bottlenecks are costing billions, there’s no Grand Prix and the Jazz Fest hardly has anymore jazz. Factor in the global economic meltdown and it looks like this may be one of the toughest summers this city has seen in a while. You must be pretty bummed.

Well, guess what? I have good news. I have a tourism idea so brilliant you’ll not only want to give me the key to the city, but also the key to that fancy-ass car you wave to people from at parades, and a key to a luxurious hotel room where you’ll want to make tender manlove to me all night.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Jeez Raf, I hope it’s better than your last hare-brained idea to rejuvenate the city.” Well, let me tell you: it is. Maybe the suggestions from my previous letters were a little too “visionary” (I still don’t think turning the Biosphere into a Thunderdome would be “morally questionable” or “an insurance nightmare”), but this one is simple and guaranteed to work.

Let me explain. After doing a lot of journalistic research and talking with my confidential sources (and by journalistic research, I mean “Googling,” and by confidential sources, I mean “reading the newspaper”), it has come to my attention that these economic hard times are also the perfect opportunity to find bargains on things.

Whether it’s a used Sarah Jessica Parker blow-up doll on Craigslist or a collection of ginger roots shaped like Canadian prime ministers, people are slimming down their assets. One of these people is George Gillett Jr., super-rich guy and owner of the Montreal Canadiens who has recently entertained offers from a number of key Montreal figures interested in purchasing the team: the Molson family, Celine Dion and Guy Laliberté, founder and owner of Cirque du Soleil.

Now, like any Montrealer worth his salt, I am a Habs fan (at least in the playoffs) and at first, none of these choices of owners seemed right. Molson? They already owned the team before. They had their chance and blew it. Celine Dion? Forget it, what does she know about a franchise? Have you ever eaten at Nickels? Just the decor makes your eyes want to puke a barf sandwich. Then it hit me. Guy La-fucking-liberté. Guy Laliberté must take over the Montreal Canadiens.

Think about it, Ger: Cirque du Soleil. Hockey. Circus and hockey! Together! Not only would this combine two things Montrealers love (even more than that topless bagel bakery called Gloryholes I proposed in my last letter), but it would put the franchise in the hands of the man at the head of the most successful Quebec franchise ever. Let’s face it, nobody outside Canada cares about hockey, and if anyone can make the Habs an international sensation, it’s Laliberté. Besides, it’s no secret the Canadiens like to party, and Laliberté has been known to throw legendarily decadent private parties. Aren’t you the least bit curious to see how being whipped in a swimming pool by a coked-up midget dipped in butterscotch affects Price’s game?

Here are the other top reasons Guy Laliberté should own the Canadiens:

● The new pastel airbrushed spandex uniforms would be lighter and more flattering.

● All crowd hypers would be replaced with weird mime-clowns dressed as animals wandering the aisles scaring the shit out of everybody.

● The Hockey Night in Canada theme could finally be replaced by suspenseful new age music.

● The main defensive line could be led by contortionists that would confuse and gross-out the opposing team.

● The team’s boring old name could be changed to something exotic and mysterious like Zamboniista.

● The play-by-play could be done in an expressive universal gibberish language.

● Between periods, the crowd of adrenaline-fuelled jocks would be entertained by an imaginative show of wonderment and slight homoeroticism.

RIFF-RAFF@SYMPATICO.CA