Even with the appalling terrorist attacks in Brussels this morning, and the Trudeau government's first budget coming down this afternoon, Canadian media are giving wall-to-wall coverage to the passing of Toronto's former Mayor, Rob Ford, earlier today. He was just 46 years old and had been undergoing treatment for cancer for more than a year. There are some nasty comments to be found on Twitter, to be sure, but for the most part, even Ford's many detractors are abiding by the dictum, "de mortuis nil nisi bonum" -- never speak ill of the dead.*
Ford was a big man who lived life large. His populist politics were never mine, but then they weren't intended to be. "Ford Nation", as it became known, largely consisted of poorer, less educated people who felt that the boom times in Toronto were leaving them behind. There's a clear comparison, albeit on a vastly different scale, with the rise of Donald Trump. Even when he was undergoing his first, seemingly successful round of chemo in late 2014, Ford remained diligent about always returning phone calls from his constituents, people who were more used to being ignored by all levels of government, except around voting day.
Truth to tell, he was never a great mayor, and in his worst moments he made Toronto an international laughing stock. Yet he always seemed like a cheerful oaf it would be fun to spend an evening with. His ever-loyal family is grieving his loss, and his city will be a poorer and less interesting place without him. Rest in peace, big guy.
* I know that's not the literal translation, but it's the usual English way of expressing the thought.
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