Something about prophets and their home
The 400th Birthday Club is at it again.
Sometime in the next two hundred and twenty-odd days, a birthday cake will be loaded on a big truck (with at least two flat tires) and the cry will go out to light the candles. I fear there won’t be a lucifer to be found. No lights, no show. You see, the celebration for Quebec City’s Four Hundredth Anniversary (in capitals, if you please) just seems to hit one bump after another.
The headlines in all the local papers for today seem fixated on La Celine. She has a new album coming into stores, but her hurlyburly manager (think MacBeth with attitude) is furious. You see, the organizers are willing (according to him) to guarantee the gate fee for U2, but La Celine has been snubbed… sort of. And if the money isn’t there, the not-so-fat lady ain’t gonna sing. At least, not here. Montreal, on the other hand, could find themselves with yet another date available for La Big Show. Please!
I don’t care. I’m not among those that could afford seats to such a spectacular spectacle. Although summer tour tickets aren’t available online (as near as I can see), the other show down in Vegas would set me back a couple of hundred each. I’m very happy that there are those who can afford such tokens of esteem. Myself, I prefer muffins (thanks, Mr. Zappa, wherever you are).
So, to what point should the taxpayer (me) be willing to front the earnings of a rich person (her)? Here is a point [.] Here is another one [.] Take your pick. I hope that the glorious 400th will find something more culturally relevant to finance. Remember, only two hundred and twenty-odd days to get an impressive schedule in place. And if the not-so-fat lady doesn’t want to sing, then we can all hum, happily. Perhaps something from the Titanic?
