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Sarah Thomson

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New Rob Ford video shows him intoxicated, rambling, cursing

Rob Ford videos are a little like road kill — every time another one comes out I think it can’t be worse than the last, so I hit that youtube button and watch. But it’s now at the point where I just feel sad.

Sad that this man I debated in the 2010 Toronto mayoral race is wrestling addiction issues on a stage his family relentlessly pushes him to.

Sad that this man who would seem to have everything, needs to use alcohol and/or drugs to face the world he’s been handed.

Sad about what might happen to Rob should his family continue to push him onto this very public stage while he wrestles with addiction issues.

It is time for his family to realize the role they play in this tragedy, their denial of his addiction issues only serves to enable Rob. It is time for them to face the fact that addicts lie in order to carry on their behaviour, time to admit the weight issue is just a small aspect of Rob Ford’s overall addiction issue.

It is time for us all to care about the man, not the Mayor.

Bugs, birds and the warm west coast of Costa Rica

It’s about this time of year that I start craving the sun and one place that we have always enjoyed visiting is Costa Rica. If you like nature, monkeys, and bugs that are the size of small birds  – this is a country that must be experienced. If you are lucky you can catch a charter flight direct from Toronto (Sundays) and the trip will take just over 7 hours. Sunquest offers “direct” flights but they often include 1 stop so read the fine print.

There are many different types of accommodation to choose from and we decided to try a boutique hotels for our first week and a private home for our second. We chose to stay on the southern west coast where there are many nature reserves. The natural surroundings and landscape along the Pacific coast are surreal. The Cerros de Escazúare mountain range stretches down along the west coast meeting the warm (80F) Pacific crashes against them creating rock outcrops, sand bars and small islands that add to the view.

Our first week was spent at Arenas Del Mar, one of the best boutique hotels I have encountered. IT is located in the town of Quepos situated beside Manuel Antonio Nature Reserve. The hotel is and “eco” resort, and was designed to have low impact on the rainforest park that surrounds it.

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Perched on the side of a mountain, views from the rooms are magnificent.Here is a video of the beach at the hotel beach. When I looked at visiting I couldn’t understand why they showed so much beach shaded by trees, but when you get there the sun gets so hot that by noon everyone has moved from the beach to  the shade under the trees. The design and layout of the resort is perfect. As well as a video of an early morning visit from some monkeys on the beach at the resort … The hotel can be booked here and they have a facebook page

 

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I recommend sunset and candle lit dinner on the beach – offered every Thursday night at Areans Del Mar.

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We always try to spend part of our stay away from the bustle and renting a home in Costa Rica is quite easy using VRBO.com The home we stayed in last year was beautiful with fantastic views and excellent décor. This video gives a great sense of the home with most of our time spent on the patio or by the pool.

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The home is located just outside the town of Dominical and can be booked here: http://www.vrbo.com/221637  The owners were wonderful, and their caretaker spoke English well and was there to help and suggested some terrific places to visit and go zip-lining. The only downfall of the home was the lack of screens on the windows. I like to fall asleep to the sound of the jungle but didn’t want to be covered by cicadas and frogs during the night so had to give up on leaving the window open. If you like the sounds of jungle, a warm ocean and the sun this is the place to go on your next holiday!

TRAVEL: Planning a winter vacation? Think Costa Rica

By Sarah Thomson

After a long day of travel, leaving Toronto at 6 a.m. with American Airlines and a plane switch in Miami, we arrived in San Jose, Costa Rica by 2 p.m., picked up our rental vehicle and made our way to the coast. Taking the new highway from San Jose to Quepos took us approximately 3 hours and we arrived at Arenas Del Mar just as the sun was setting.

We were greeted by two friendly attendants who loaded our bags onto a large golf cart and shuttled us up a paved path, through the jungle, to our room; tree frogs and night bugs filling the canopy above us with their calls. Stopping at the reception area, with pool and bar, we picked up our key and were informed of the Calypso dinner being served on the beach.

Our room was a spectacular corner suite facing the ocean and beach. The polished wood accenting the windows and stone tiling was elegant. Heavy doors slid easily open to a huge wrap around balcony that could be accessed from both the master bedroom and living room (where the kids slept on a pull out couch that was made up and ready for them). The balcony off the master bedroom had lounge chairs and a huge Jacuzzi tub that overlooked the cliffs and sea below, around the corner the balcony off the living room had a couch and big comfy chairs. Trees surrounded us— the jungle sounds of bugs, birds and howler monkeys, combined with the luscious earthy smell of vegetation, made everything seem surreal.

Most of the living area is outside with large covered terraces providing shade and great views. We could see the lanterns on the beach burning, and hear the surf pounding against the rocks far below.

After pulling our swim suits from the luggage we changed and caught a chauffeured golf cart down the path to the pool (the golf carts ferry people up and down the path to the beach and reception area). We had a quick swim then changed for dinner and made our way to the candle lit beach. An area under the palm trees was filled with white linen covered tables and chairs.  A Calypso trio played soft music—without an amplifier. The music, with the rhythm of the waves in the background and the warm breeze combined to make it a beautiful evening. Dinner was fantastic and my 7-year-old was invited to play the maracas with the band and without any hesitation he was up there loving the attention (what he’s lacks in shyness he makes up for in smiles).

We woke up the next morning to the sound of the parakeets and toucans in the trees that surround our terrace.  The sun was just rising, and with it the jungle came to life.  Our boys’ excitement and desire to explore was infectious and we went for an early morning walk before going for our free breakfast. The resort has two beaches. One is secluded and protected by large rock outcroppings at either end and the other larger beach is part of Manuel Antonio National Park and stretches for miles.

It wasn’t long before the boys were soaked and playing in the waves. (*Note to parents: put them in bathing suits the moment they wake up because the ocean is warm and irresistible). As the sun began to rise and heat up the beach, we made our way back to the resort, changed and went for breakfast of fruit pancakes and delicious coffee.

Arenas Del Mar Nature Resort is an elegant introduction to the beauty of Costa Rica. It is by far one of my favourite hotels in the world, with a combination of elegance and design that works perfectly with the natural beauty of the jungle that surrounds it.

It is: quiet, calm, elegant, peaceful, natural, warm and amazing.

It is not: loud, party place, crowded, busy, cold and average.

I hope to come be back to this beautiful resort very soon.

 

Take a look at the beautiful beaches below.

 

 

Follow Sarah on Twitter at @ThomsonTO.

Roaming in Arizona

Unforgiving, relentless, scorching light. In Arizona the sun pentrates, burns and shrivels all but the toughest plants. Its brightness is piercing and its intensity withering. In a dry desert setting, surrounded by mountains, sits Phoenix, the capital city of Arizona. Here the sun brings simmering heat and the darkened rooms offer more than just shade and air conditioning.

As I sit in the plane, 26,000 feet above the earth, my partner sleeps with his mouth open in the seat beside me. I roll my new ring around on my finger and think of placing the ring in his open mouth, or perhaps a few drops from the tiny bottle of Tabasco sauce that came with this morning’s breakfast at the Arizona Biltmore. But he looks so peaceful. I recline the seat back and think about the past few days.

Four days ago we landed in Phoenix, dressed in pants and sweaters far too hot for the warm day. We changed into shorts and packed up our sweaters. Renting a jeep, we headed north to Flagstaff. The highway from Phoenix rises out of the desert and climbs steadily up to the Mogollan Plateau. Small towns along the highway are filled with flat, square, pueblo-type homes. Built of sun-dried brick and mortar, they are made to protect the inhabitants from the simmering heat. Southwest walls are bare and empty of windows; anything to keep out the penetrating sun. Blinds and thick heavy curtains are drawn over every window to stop even the smallest amount of light from entering a room.

Our first stop is Walnut Canyon, three hours north of Phoenix. The canyon is the site of 87 cave-like cliff dwellings built into the walls of a 400-foot deep limestone gorge. As we climbed in elevation, we began to notice small patches of snow in the gullies. By the time we reached Walnut Canyon, snow was falling heavily. We unpacked our sweaters and scurried into the visitors centre to take a look at the trail maps. The centre sits on the edge of the canyon. A large glass window takes up most of one wall, but the snow flurries created a sheet of whiteness that cut off the view completely.

As we watched the snow swirling below us, my partner reached for my hand. I looked up from the window to meet his eyes. He stroked my cheek and a serious expression came over his face. His eyes were warm. “Sarah.” He paused and looked down at my hands. “Will you…” The park ranger leaned over a railing just above us and announced, “The visitors centre is closing now. We hope you’ll come back tomorrow.”

We hurried through the snow back to our jeep and drove into Flagstaff on Route 66. Our reservations that night were at The Inn at 410 in Flagstaff. Owned and operated by Howard and Sally Krueger, the Inn sits on a hill just off the main street of the town. Built in 1894, the old house was converted to a bed and breakfast in 1991. We were greeted by an open door and a smiling young man who rushed to take our bags. He showed us to the “Southwest room,” located in the original section of the old house. Fully renovated, the room has a private bath, gas fireplace and over-sized Jacuzzi tub. The snow was still falling and the day had been long.

Curious about my partner’s question at Walnut Canyon, I was determined to salvage the romantic mood disrupted earlier in the day. I filled the Jacuzzi and poured two glasses of wine. We got into the large tub and my partner reached over me to turn on the jets. But nothing happened. He pushed the button, I pushed the button. Nothing. Frustrated, he got out of the tub and wrapped himself in a large terrycloth bathrobe provided by the Inn. He went searching for another switch, a button, anything to get the jets working, but found nothing. He called the front desk for help and before I could finish my wine, jump from the tub and climb into the other robe, our innkeeper was knocking at our door. We didn’t have time to turn the lights on. Firelight flickered and danced on the walls. Soft music played in the background. I tightened my robe and went to meet Howard, the innkeeper. He was kind and a little more embarrassed than we were. He couldn’t get the tub to work and apologised profusely.

The next morning we woke to the smell of hot rolls cooking in the oven. Thirsty and hungry, we dressed and hurried to the dining room, where they served fresh fruit with coffee and orange juice, followed by baked oatmeal with cranberries, cream and the fresh home-made rolls we could smell from our room. When Howard learned we were heading to the Grand Canyon, he fetched his maps and showed us the route he and his wife, Sally, travelled. The dining room was elegant and combined with Howard’s friendly personality our morning was relaxed and enjoyable.

Following Howard’s instructions we drove northeast. The change of vegetation is stunning. From barren desert with dust bowls, rolling tumbleweed and cacti, to pine forest and dry mountain settings with vegetation clinging to life amid rock and rubble. We followed the highway north as it wound its way through the San Francisco Mountains. Once past the mountains, we crossed the Coconino Plateau. At the rim of the plateau, the land drops off and slopes down to meet the Painted Desert below. The desert is surrounded by eroded sedimentary hills. Colours of every shade paint the hills and sweep down into the desert, where rain and snow have washed different colours of sediment out over the flat plain.

Turning west, the highway meanders along a ledge between the rim of the Plateau to the desert below. We discovered an abandoned dirt road leading from the highway towards the desert. Weeds, cacti and brush camouflaged the road. Parking the jeep, we hiked down towards the desert. Dirt and prickly pear filled our shoes. Huge gullies dropped away from the trail. It came to a sudden end as if the land had been swept away. A deep, dry, gulch separated us from the road as it continued its way down the hillside. The sun was hot and the air still. Shade was hard to find. We listened for sounds of life, a bird, a rustle, the murmur of a bug. Nothing. I threw a rock and its sound disappeared into the vast empty desert below us. My partner stood beside me. His camera shutter clicked. Again the sound disappeared into the silence. Beautiful in a stark and eerie way.

The highway rose up onto the Plateau and wound its way along the edge of the Grand Canyon. We stopped at many of the lookouts to peer down on the Colorado river far below. Reaching the Grand Canyon village by late afternoon, we were too late to hike down the canyon or dine at the hotel for lunch. We snapped some photos, enjoyed a cold beer and left; both of us try to avoid tourist-filled areas.

Heading south to Sedona, we found the perfect setting for a car chase. The highway (89A) zigzags down the side of a huge canyon. There are switchbacks every few hundred yards. A tiny creek winds through a valley filled with cottonwood, willow and oak trees. Sedona sits at the end of the canyon where it opens out to the desert beyond. Our reservations for the night were at Canyon Villa Inn, located just south of Sedona.

We arrived just as the sun was setting and our innkeeper, Les Belch, gave us a brief tour, taking us poolside for a glimpse of a Sedona sunset. Les pointed to the east and told us that in Sedona the greatest views aren’t found looking towards the sun but away from it. He pointed to Bell Rock, a huge spire rising out of the dusty desert setting. The red rocks glowed as the setting sun touched their peaks. Night approached quickly and Les showed us to the “Spanish Bayonet” room — the most romantic room at the Inn. Our balcony faced Bell Rock with the Courthouse Butte (pronounced beaut as in beauty) across from it. With king-sized bed, gas burning fireplace, and a Jacuzzi tub I hoped for the best. We were invited for hors-d’ouevres and cocktails in the dining room and he left us to unpack and get comfortable. That evening we drove into Sedona for a romantic dinner. The night was chilly and we went back to Canyon Villa to enjoy the fire and the warm jets of the Jacuzzi — they worked beautifully.

Next morning we dined with other guests in the dining room. We were pleased to meet another couple from Toronto and four people from New York. All suggested we take a path from the Inn that connects with trails leading to the Buttes and Red Rocks beyond. The day was gorgeous; not a cloud in the sky. We hiked and climbed, the red sand covering our shoes and filling our pockets. Enjoying the view from the flat surface of one rock outcrop, we listened to the stillness of the desert. A slight breeze brought the sound of someone chanting a few buttes away. Sedona is known for its holistic community. Aging hippies and palm readers fill the shops. The majestic buttes and spires give it a magical quality.

Leaving Sedona late in the afternoon, and dusty from our hike, we headed to the Arizona Biltmore in Phoenix. Arriving early in the evening, in hiking boots, shorts and t-shirts, we felt a little out of place. But the manager took no notice and gave us a brief tour of the grounds, treating us like royalty. Inspired by architect Frank Lloyd Wright, the Biltmore first opened in 1929. It boasts a 92-foot-long water slide, an 18-hole championship putting course and a 22,000-square-foot spa, fitness centre and beauty salon. With 736 guest rooms, it’s the largest resort in Arizona. We were shown to our suite with living room, dining area, and full kitchen. The marble bath with double sinks was larger than my dining room.

After taking in the grounds and wishing to spend more time at the resort, we tried to get our flight changed. But alas, luck and the airline were not on our side. We dined at Wrights, the Biltmore’s fine dining restaurant, where executive chef John Zaner has created a fresh, flavourful menu of New American cuisine. My rack of lamb was exceptional and the strawberry banana soufflé was ecstasy in a bowl. Waddling out of the restaurant and into the cool evening, we noticed steam rising from the hot tub beside the pool. In no time, we had our heads propped on the edge of the tub, our legs floating in front of us and our gaze resting on the stars glittering above. My partner put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. He leaned close to whisper into my ear and I knew this was the moment. He spoke softly. “Sarah. Wake up. The plane has landed.”

The merchants at Union Station ban live music from a public realm

What could be worse at Christmas then to ban the Salvation Army brass band at Union Station, where it has played each and every year for the past 50 years? One might well wonder how a location like Union Station, paid for with our tax dollars, could so brazenly take away something most of us have grown to look forward to?

 

Would anyone be surprised to learn that a small group of vocal, scheming merchants have taken control of the station, convincing city management to ban instruments in the concourse?  I’m not sure if this is simply greed from merchants worried the coins going to the Salvation Army won’t get into their till, or utter stupidity on the part of management who have forgotten the station belongs to the public and not the merchants we allow to be there!

 

I wonder what goes through the minds of all those musicians who have volunteered, who have spent hours practicing and rehearsing so that they can bring music to the ears of frazzled travellers passing through this busy transit hub in hope that they might donate to a very worthy cause? Are they too picturing the merchants at Union rolling their hands together thinking they will get more coins in their tills. I for one will boycott those merchants until they decide to allow instruments back into Union Station and I encourage the city staff enabling this small band of merchants to grow some balls and stand up to them. Remember that having a store location in Union station is a special opportunity that the public has given them.  Their action to ban instruments from Union Station has demonstrated that these merchants have grown too powerful and are trying to influence control over a public space. The city bureaucrat who allowed this to happen should be shown the door quickly.

 

I want to thank those musicians who volunteer their time to bring that music to our ears. They bring a smile to many a soul… and for that deserve our support. I am glad the TTC allows the busker to play at the Bloor station; I smile at the guitarist who plays at the corner of College and Yonge everyday. It is these small things that make Toronto a wonderful place to live.

 

Next time you go through Union station think twice about making a purchase, and remember how these merchants banned the salvation army from bringing their music to your ears.

 

Let’s keep crossing guard Kathleen Byers dancing

Save Kathleen Byers, Toronto’s dancing crossing guard!

Help us gain recognition for Kathleen Byers — the dancing crossing guard who has been told she must not dance.

This is an example of a front line worker who has thought of a great way to get the attention of drivers while making them smile. She has been told by the Toronto Police that she shouldn’t be dancing. They seem to have lost sight of the fact that the stop sign and florescent orange attire the crossing guards wear is designed to attract drivers attention — adding the element of dancing goes even further to make drivers aware of her and those she shepherds across the street. Her method is extremely effective at getting drivers to pay attention making the area she works both safer and happier.
The bureaucrats handing down decisions to happy and active pillars of community like Kathleen have cling to their regulations to such a degree that they are blind to a good idea.  Toronto Police middle management — sitting in a warm office as opposed to out on the road every day, hot or cold — dictate the way her job should be done without taking pause to reflect on the fact that her unique spirit and charm have found an even better way to keep pedestrians safe and keep everyone smiling.
We recommend that rather than chastising Mrs. Byers the Toronto police come out and see how she has added value and increased safety in the way she has chosen to do her job. Change is never easy and some civil servants don’t embrace it. In this case they have gone overboard in trying to stop a woman who has brought more to her position then was ever requested or required of her, and for that she should be commended, not reprimanded.
We support Kathleen Byers and will do all that we can to make sure that her efforts are recognized.

Follow Sarah Thomson @ThomsonTO

Speech to Budget Committee – Dec. 2, 2013

Good afternoon – I am Sarah Thomson chair of the Toronto Transit Alliance. Thank you committee members for giving me the opportunity to speak before you today.

With the approaching 2014 election we at the Transit Alliance hope that each and every councilor in this room remembers the importance of standing up for what is right, and putting the needs of the city first.

Everyone in this room knows the importance of dedicated transit funding but how many people here are willing to stand up for even one funding tool recommended to council by us at the Toronto Transit Alliance, by  The Board of Trade, Civic Action, Metrolinx, and even your own advisors here at the city?

All have recommended funding tools and today we are here to encourage you to move forward on at least one of them. We have to build a city for our children, a city that doesn’t allow gridlock to limit our economic potential, our youth, our future.

But lets talk about the facts

–       the fact that it is very hard to get elected on the idea of increasing taxes no matter how important the initiative is

–        the fact that there are politicians who pretend that Toronto can have a top of the line subway system and voters won’t have to pay a dime.

It is hard to compete against these charlatans who spew these lies… but not impossible.

Transit is a key issue in the coming election. With between 6 to 12 Billion dollars of lost productivity each year (BOT and CD Howe estimates) Toronto doesn’t have time to wait for other levels of government to bail us out. We have to move and we have to move quickly.

The Scarborough Subway will cost tax-payers. That is a fact, a hard truth — not political spin.

But another fact being ignored currently is that without dedicated transit funding in place the bill for transit expansion will continue to fall to Toronto tax-payers.

We at the Toronto Transit Alliance believe this MUST  change, we need a model where ALL can contribute to funding the transit system Toronto needs and the first step should be to implement tolls for non-residents on the Gardiner Expressway, and Don Valley Parkway.

Many here might not be aware of the fact that Toronto owns both highways and the Toronto Act allows our city the opportunity to move forward on this.

If we toll non-residents, councilors who have proven unwilling to risk their positions, will not have to worry about losing votes.

We at the Toronto Transit Alliance are hoping to find leadership from someone on council, leadership to steer this idea forward, leadership to create the dedicated transit funding Toronto needs to expand our subway and transit system.

Will one of you step forward to lead?

Or does Toronto need someone from outside city council, someone like John Tory or myself, to step in next year and push the transit funding issue forward?

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to speak before you today.

 

Mayor Miller saved more $ than Rob Ford

Since the crack scandal around Rob Ford came to light journalists across Toronto have started to investigate Mr. Ford’s claim of $1Billion in savings to the tax payers, and have found that there too Mr. Ford has lied, twisting the facts in an attempt to gain voters. Perhaps the most shady of Mr. Ford’s claims is that charging user fees on pools and recreation centres are somehow “savings” to the tax payer when they are in fact simply a shift from one way of paying for the service to another.

In an attempt to point out the fraudulent math, Councillor Shelley Carroll has used Mr. Ford’s same calculations on Mayor Millers record demonstrating the Mayor Miller saved far more than Mr. Ford.

Mayor Miller

– $426 million Mayor Miller got the Province to upload social services

– $492 in waste managment (came out of the budget and made it a user fee)

– $30 million other user fees

– $92 Million in efficiency management

– $174.1 garbage liability sick leave savings

– $31 million in saved payroll costs

– $443.7 million cost reductions caused by efficiencies

Total: $1.688 Billion in “savings”

 

Rob Ford

$173 million on Licence Registration fee

$ 400 million cost reduction through efficiency

Total: $573 Million in “savings”

The tragic comedy of Rob Ford

There was a point during a mayoral debate in the 2010 election when all the candidates were asked to talk about what we enjoyed most in our lives. Rob Ford spoke about how he loved performing in his school play. I remembered this when I watched him last week strut around council chambers trying to intimidate residents, taking their pictures as they sat watching him.  His confession about his love for performing has helped me understand why he hasn’t taken a leave of absence and why he continues to press on  – why he continues to perform for an audience who is laughing at him, and not with him.

Act 1    “The Restoration of the Crack-smoking Mayor”

I have no doubt that the lies Rob Ford told over the election campaign, and into his first year of office, have worked to undermine his self-confidence. He promised voters that he would lower their taxes, get rid of the land transfer tax, and cut the fat at city hall, but the truth is that these were promises he could never keep.  Mr. Fords only business experience was doing the books at his fathers label company, and if we are truly going to find  efficiencies at city hall it will take someone who can truly unite the effort and steer each and every department through a line by line analysis. This is a huge undertaking and Mr. Ford has proved unable to keep his own small executive team together let alone build the consensus required to accomplish the restructuring needed at city hall.

When Mr. Ford could have reached out and united council around restructuring city hall, he shrank into himself, shirking his responsibilities and telling lies to cover up his inability to build consensus. By the end of 2011 he had turned to alcohol and drugs, they took the edge off, and allowed him to live with the lies he told every day. The problem was that the more he drank the worse things seemed to get and the more lies he had to tell. The more lies he told the more his confidence shrunk away from him and his addiction increased.

Add to this the pressure of knowing that the city operating budget was growing under his watch with the fact that there was no way to get rid of the land transfer tax and his supporters might look at the bottom line and realize that the $1-2Billion he and brother Doug Ford were claiming to have saved was a complete lie. No matter how much he tried his budget chief  had explained that there was no extra money to pay for the scarborough subway and a 2.5% tax increase was the best he could hope for.  A huge tax increase would risk losing voters and make him look like a liar in the coming election.

Act 2: Establishing Rob Ford as both a victim and hero 

The best solution for Mr. Ford given the position he was in last week was to have city council take away his powers in a public spectacle. The more voters aware of this the easier it will be to claim he had nothing to do with the tax increases. He will blame council, play the victim and call for voters to restore him to power so that he, and he alone, can protect them from tax increases. So not only must Mr. Ford play the victim but also has to come across as a hero fighting for the tax payer – and brother Doug could benefit from a little of that as well.

They will push out their message of “fighting the establishment” – they’ll yell and storm about council chambers as much as they can. They will play the underdog fighting for their supporters. The bigger the public display the easier it will be to distance themselves from the tax increases required to pay for Mr. Ford’s subway policy.

There is a risk that the rest of Toronto will realize that Mr. Ford has placed the cost of the Scarborough subway onto property tax payers but he’ll hope they don’t notice.

And all the while Rob Ford’s self-confidence continues to erode with the lies that he continues to tell. The more his confidence diminishes the more likely he is to turn to crack or alcohol. Mr. Ford has very little left but the empty bravado of a man clinging to a belief that he is great, but knowing inside that he isn’t. It is sad, but it is also the consequence that comes from lying.

The last act for Rob Ford is still up in the air. He will continue to try to get headlines, he will continue his performance as long as there is somebody pushing him on. Will this performance end in a tragedy? If the Ford family continues to enable him, if they continue to force him onto the political stage… the future doesn’t look very good for Rob.

 

Follow Sarah Thomson on Twitter @ThomsonTO.

Follow Women’s Post on Twitter at @WomensPost.