I deleted my letter to Stephen Harper last week and didn’t send the hard copy. Although it was satisfying to write, I ultimately decided it was disrespectful to compare our prime minister to an ostrich.

A little more time, and I’ll do a better job. After all, what use is having good typing fingers if I can’t put them to good use?

I’m reminded of my friend Jen, who, whenever she called a complaints department, told them clearly that she was a freelance writer and communications expert with access to many media platforms.

In that vein, I leave you with this song. If it’s dangerous to make a writer angry, it just as dangerous to piss off a musician.