Skip to main content

Cat skinnings and other bons mots



If you're reading this, you might have heard me on CBC radio's DNTO today. I was talking about how I suck at job interviews, how when asked my strategy to further the aims of an animal welfare group, I replied: "Well, there's more than one way to skin a cat".

Needless to say, I didn't get that job.

I'm always nervous about public speaking, but it's pretty good on the radio, especially if you're talking to WINNIPEG from OTTAWA. They put you in a little box and basically, you just talk to yourself, which I'm always doing.

You see, I'm a shut-in, a freelancer, which is Ottawaspeak for "chronically unemployed". There's another word for it, a word used by perpetual gas bags and chest puffers who are also unemployed. They call themselves "consultants".

The Canada Revenue Agency has another word for us. It's called "tax evaders".

Seriously, you know you suck at freelancing when you don't bother registering for the GST because you don't make enough money. I'm always puzzled by the freelancers who voluntarily register to pay extra tax to the government, but who don't make the $30,000 a year ceiling.

They are what I would refer to as "optimists" or "Pollyannas".

The most I've ever made freelancing is about $30,000 a year when I was writing speeches in Ottawa. I was pretending to be a Cabinet minister, making things up, rationalizing, obfuscating, lying.

Pretty much what I do with my creditors.

For the most part, freelancing pays next to nothing. You spend three weeks working on a topical story for a newspaper, another two weeks shilling it and by that time, the story is too old. When you do get paid, it's usually about $200 -- that's it.

Except for the fact that you are destined to live forever below the poverty line, it's not a bad life. You get to spend hours with your dogs, you can sleep in the afternoon and you can watch the entire season of the Sopranos on A&E without interruption.

Success in freelancing is more than making money.

It's about marrying somebody crazy enough to support you.

Thanks Scott!

For more stories like this, feel free to visit my sister site: The $10 Life.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ashley Simpson: Conversation with Derek Favell Revealed

  On April 2, 2017, a family friend of Ashley Simpson opened her Facebook Messenger and got the surprise of her life.  Cathy MacLeod had been trying to correspond with Ashley's boyfriend, Derek Favell, who was the last person to see the St. Catharines native before she disappeared from her home in Salmon Arm, B.C. a year before. She wanted to know more about what happened to Ashley, and why Favell had refused to take a polygraph test when many others close to the missing woman agreed to do so. "I wanted to poke the bear," she said, and sent several messages to Favell pleading with him to talk to her.  " Please help us," she wrote. "It's been 10 months of pure hell. A lie detector would help if you have nothing to hide. I beg of you, help us, take the test to clear your name if there’s nothing to hide." Many, including members of the Simpson family, found Derek's behaviour, at least, curious. Ashley had disappeared on April 27, 2016. Yet it took

Ashley Simpson: A Father Remembers

I have asked Ashley Simpson's family and friends to give us a glimpse into the life she lived before going missing nearly a month ago. Here is how her father John remembers his sweet girl. Ashley was a treat when she came into this world, a smashing 9lbs 8 ounces with a  head full of hair and nails that needed to be clipped. She has made many friends in her journey of life and continues to make them as we speak. She has made this world a better place by her love of mankind and this place we call Earth; unfortunately this life she has lived hasn't been the best for her. She has suffered through unbearable pain and suffering through her menstrual cycles. She has cysts on her ovaries that make those 10 days a living hell. She had one of her ovaries removed when she was just 14; the other they won't take out till she is 40 or older. Years of hell for my Ashley. I so feel her pain every month but she doesn't quit, doesn't give in.   That's my

Jack Van Dusen: 90 Years Old and Not a Drop Wasted

A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others."  -- L. Frank Baum It's not easy standing out in a family like the Van Dusens. They are like tribbles; they are everywhere. In politics. In the media. In the fine arts. Even on stage at local fairs raising money for good causes. But Jack Van Dusen is no ordinary Van Dusen. He's a trailblazer. He was the voice of Ottawa anchoring the local news in the early days, with the sidekicks you see in the photo above. He was on Parliament Hill rubbing shoulders with the likes of John George Diefenbaker and making mischief with the relatively small cabal of ink stain wretches who were the first generation to talk to Canadians over the air waves. After a successful time in the media, Jack had a second career as a public relations guy. That's when I met him sitting at the lunch table at the National Press Club with his brother Tom, the columnist Charles Lynch, Sergeant-at-Arms Gus Clou