It was hard work changing the world. If I wasn’t running in an election I was helping out in an election or preparing for an election or cleaning up after an election. Most of the time it was at the party’s headquarters on Yonge Street. One Friday night, at one of those helping out in an election meetings, we were folding pamphlets and doing what we liked to do best, arguing about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. It was a working meeting to prepare for a by-election, the political equivalent of a pop quiz in high school. In the parliamentary system, when a seat is vacated for whatever reason, a special election is held to fill the seat and return a member to parliament. So we were all working for the one campaign. We were folding pamphlets that we were going to distribute the next day, and we were assigning ourselves teams. The fellow across the table assigned him and me to a team of two that would drop pamphlets at one of the high-rise apartment buildings in the district. As we were calling it a night and leaving, the fellow asked me if I wanted to meet up for breakfast at a restaurant the next day before we headed out on the job. After he left, I asked my girlfriend Linda what she knew about him, and her one piece of advice was, “Don’t bother getting to the restaurant early, he’s always late.” So I didn’t go early, but Dennis did, and had already finished his first cup of coffee by the time I got there. That turned out to be our first date. Our second one was dinner that night. Two years later we were married. And wouldn’t you know, he liked Van. (more…)