Thank you, Leah

A few years ago, in a small fit of rage, I threw my Saturday Globe and Mail against the wall after reading one too many self-important columnists waste valuable paper space on utter horseshit. I vowed never to read it again.

This was, in itself, horseshit because I still read it online and once in a blue moon, will pay for a copy, just for a change. I still hate the damn thing.

I can never tell what demographic they’re going for with that paper because, if their weekend section is to be believed, the Globe reader makes >200K per year, lives in Rosedale (but with a condo near Queen West), has a massive cottage in the Muskokas, and like the couple in the old CIBC commercials, is torn between a retirement in Provence or Tuscany. In other words, whatever it is, it ain’t you. So I quit reading it. For a while.

Turns out, their most important columnist Leah McLaren is reaching out to me. She has decided for me that it’s ok to be me. It’s ok to buy the inexpensive things I buy because, hey, she buys them too.

So to you, Leah, I say thank you. Thank you for letting me enjoy what you call “crap“.

I have gone my entire life purchasing cheap fast food, buying housewares from discount stores, eating frozen food not, as you might conclude, in an elaborate attempt to be ironic but because it was what I can afford. Turns out a rarefied person such as yourself also enjoyed these things in her less sophisticated youth and now you have the choice to enjoy them again.

Of course, it’s not because you have to for financial reasons. Oh no, let’s make that clear, as you do in your column. You got money and you do move in fabulous circles. You could continue to enjoy quality goods (that I’ve never heard of) if you want. You just choose not to, for now.

You’ll grow tired of it, of course. Eating at McDonald’s and shopping at Wal-Mart will save you money but it does mean you’ll have to rub shoulders with the acne-faced, the working classes, the suburbanites, the recent immigrants, and, yes, the fat. By the time the fall Vogue comes out (assuming it’s still read in your circles), you’ll have moved on to the latest movement you and your friends have noticed.

But until then, I’ll remain content in the knowledge that you and I could be eating a Big Mac at the very same time. I’d like to think that connects you and I on some level, if only for an ever fleeting moment.

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