by Gail Martin
Peter MacKay took it on the chin at Sunday's ECMAs in Halifax when he stumbled over what city he was in (see The Herald, February 20th).
If MacKay were anyone else but a politician, we would have more understanding of his slip of the tongue. Nonetheless, MacKay left no doubt that he knew where he was on Saturday. He was definitely in Moser River.
I hadn't seen Peter MacKay since the summer of 2006. In fact, his constituency office (MP for our riding of Guysborough-Sheet Harbour) hadn't seen him either, not since he was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs.
We understood. He was a busy man, and somehow, we all felt some pride that "Elmer's boy", as he is known to our senior residents had climbed the political ladder as far as he had. I had met Peter only a few times since I moved home to Nova Scotia's Eastern Shore in 2000.
It was Saturday, February 18th and Peter was scheduled to arrive in Moser River any minute wearing his third hat, that of Minister responsible ACOA, or the Atlantic Canadian Opportunities Agency. He had made the official announcement in Sheet Harbour that Moser River's historical association would receive funds for an property renovation, but Moser Riverites had insisted the entourage make a show of it twenty minutes east.
After all, we had invited Peter to debate the other candidates in Moser River during the last campaign. As a somewhat polished politician against the neophytes representing the other parties, he showed well.
As one local put it, Peter asked us for the job and we gave it to him, so it was no surprise that Peter showed up in Moser River to gaze into the bowels of a old gutted house undergoing a facelift. Besides, I think he really likes coming back down to earth in hometown Nova Scotia, so to speak.
I was writing an article for the Guysborough paper and for Highway7.com, our regional web portal. I had arrived at the hall a bit early in case I could help with anything. Everything was prepared so I readied the camera to get some pics of Peter next door at the site of the old house.
"He's here!" someone called out. I started towards the door just as Peter walked in. "Hello, Gail" he said without missing a beat. "How've you been?" he asked, extending his hand. I shook his hand, amazed that after so much time, so many countries and so many faces, he could come to this small East Coast community and greet even relative newcomers like me by name.
Peter called to others as we headed for the coffee pot. I told him it was nice to see him home again and mentioned that I had been on the wait list for a meeting at the constituency office for over six months.
"I've been travelling quite a bit" he said, as though I might not know that. "What did you want to talk to me about, Gail? We can do that right now, can't we?". With that, Peter and I perched on the edge of the stage for around 15 minutes, chatting and drinking coffee out of styrofoam cups. People had entered the hall and were milling around. Everyone waited, photographers, press and other guests and visitors until Peter had understood and responded to my concern and made arrangments for a further meeting.
I don't even pretend to support the current administration, however, to err is human and "Elmer's kid" Peter is certainly that. On this one, I would have to say, 'comeon, folks, give the man a break'.
The ChronicleHerald.ca
Peter MacKay took it on the chin at Sunday's ECMAs in Halifax when he stumbled over what city he was in (see The Herald, February 20th).
If MacKay were anyone else but a politician, we would have more understanding of his slip of the tongue. Nonetheless, MacKay left no doubt that he knew where he was on Saturday. He was definitely in Moser River.
I hadn't seen Peter MacKay since the summer of 2006. In fact, his constituency office (MP for our riding of Guysborough-Sheet Harbour) hadn't seen him either, not since he was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs.
We understood. He was a busy man, and somehow, we all felt some pride that "Elmer's boy", as he is known to our senior residents had climbed the political ladder as far as he had. I had met Peter only a few times since I moved home to Nova Scotia's Eastern Shore in 2000.
It was Saturday, February 18th and Peter was scheduled to arrive in Moser River any minute wearing his third hat, that of Minister responsible ACOA, or the Atlantic Canadian Opportunities Agency. He had made the official announcement in Sheet Harbour that Moser River's historical association would receive funds for an property renovation, but Moser Riverites had insisted the entourage make a show of it twenty minutes east.
After all, we had invited Peter to debate the other candidates in Moser River during the last campaign. As a somewhat polished politician against the neophytes representing the other parties, he showed well.
As one local put it, Peter asked us for the job and we gave it to him, so it was no surprise that Peter showed up in Moser River to gaze into the bowels of a old gutted house undergoing a facelift. Besides, I think he really likes coming back down to earth in hometown Nova Scotia, so to speak.
I was writing an article for the Guysborough paper and for Highway7.com, our regional web portal. I had arrived at the hall a bit early in case I could help with anything. Everything was prepared so I readied the camera to get some pics of Peter next door at the site of the old house.
"He's here!" someone called out. I started towards the door just as Peter walked in. "Hello, Gail" he said without missing a beat. "How've you been?" he asked, extending his hand. I shook his hand, amazed that after so much time, so many countries and so many faces, he could come to this small East Coast community and greet even relative newcomers like me by name.
Peter called to others as we headed for the coffee pot. I told him it was nice to see him home again and mentioned that I had been on the wait list for a meeting at the constituency office for over six months.
"I've been travelling quite a bit" he said, as though I might not know that. "What did you want to talk to me about, Gail? We can do that right now, can't we?". With that, Peter and I perched on the edge of the stage for around 15 minutes, chatting and drinking coffee out of styrofoam cups. People had entered the hall and were milling around. Everyone waited, photographers, press and other guests and visitors until Peter had understood and responded to my concern and made arrangments for a further meeting.
I don't even pretend to support the current administration, however, to err is human and "Elmer's kid" Peter is certainly that. On this one, I would have to say, 'comeon, folks, give the man a break'.
The ChronicleHerald.ca
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