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I loooooooooove my colleague Jil McIntosh at the Wheels section of the Toronto Star. She's a hoot. She has this no-nonsense way about her that never fails to crack me up. And, she knows her stuff. She has a direct way of telling you about a car that makes her one of my best resources on cars. And, she throws great parties.

Anyway. She has a column this week about GM's OnStar. I love it. She pulls no punches. And she shouldn't. I've been hating the OnStar for years.

In a column I wrote over two years ago, I got crap. And not just from GM. I mean, they weren't pleased. But I can live with that. We write for the readers, not the manufacturers. No, I had an editor (not the regular ones; an assigned fill-in) call me. First, that never happens. They don't call you. They just change stuff, or email you. But the phone rang.

"Uhm, hi Lorraine. This is Editor," he said.
"Hi Editor"
"Listen, I'm editing this OnStar piece you've written. It's, uhm, pretty harsh," he continued.
"Yeah, it is. OnStar is pretty stupid. So actually, it's really just pretty honest," I said.
"Yeah, but, can't you say anything good about it?"

I considered this.

"Nope."

And I couldn't. It was an overpriced piece of junk that never failed to unimpress me over the course of the year it was 'free' on my van. Renewing it would have been like asking for labour to last a few more hours because it was so rewarding.

No auto manufacturer has a crystal ball, but even GM should have noted that the entire world has a cell phone in their pocket. Many young people don't even bother with residential lines anymore; it's all cell. They also made the colossal mistake of stranding their early customers. Apparently, OnStar installed on vehicles prior to 2002 were equipped with an analog version. When GM switched to digital, they effectively tossed 10% of their customers to the crapper with their excuses and explanations.

This does not make for happy customers. And while I've had a lot of GPS systems steer me wrong, most of them aren't harassing me to purchase them for exorbitant costs like GM does.

I was an early OnStar bitcher. I'm glad Jil got to make her point - there is a razor thin edge for success in the car industry these days. I get lost enough without my car doing it for me.

I love this story. Like Jam-of-the-Month club, it's the gift that keeps on giving.

In an inquiry into conflict of interest concerns swirling around Mississauga mayor Hazel McCallion and her son Peter, initial days of the inquest are discovering that McCallion does not keep records. Her Assistant regularly deletes her emails after she's read them. Apparently Hazel's ginormous computer brain means she doesn't need to keep track of anything she reads. Her Assistant believes this is a fine practice.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? Do you know how many emails cross this woman's desk in a day, in an hour? Do you realize the breadth of material she must read and understand on numerous topics? Do you know how many meetings she must attend?

I'll tell you my take on this. Because it's my blog, and I can. Her Assistant didn't get to be her assistant by being stupid. That job is onerous. Now, if your boss, an elected official, tells you to delete every email that comes in once she says so, do you really think you obediently pull the trigger without asking a single question, raising an eyebrow, considering the implications? No way. Not buying it.

Now, if your boss was a newbie, recently elected, you would say something like, "Excuse me, Boss? I think that might be a rash idea. An electronic trail will be really handy to revisit in the event of questions that might arise about process, handling of material, response times, chains of conversations, and problems that may arise should you decide to aid and abet your ne-er do well son as he tries to benefit from your position of influence because he can't seem to earn a living otherwise" - or something like that. That's a ferinstance.

That's what you would say if your boss was a newbie. But if she'd been the mayor since Methuselah was a pup, I can totally understand you being leery of questioning her. In which case you would simply open up a series of folders and store everything anyway. Period.

McCallion also destroyed her calendar every year. Really? This woman who prides herself on the fact she is not just a part of history, but darned near an artifact? Destroys a record of where she's been, who she's posed with, how many ribbons she's cut? I doubt it. Truly. Peer into the brain of most politicians and you'll find a frustrated exhibitionist waiting to sparkle. At the very least you will find someone savvy enough to record meetings to prove they did what they said they were going to. Politicians hate being called out on the carpet - they live by their schedules to prove they're earning their salaries - because people call them out on it with great regularity, and even more often in an election year.

I'm just a normal person. I have my Milk Calendars going back ten years. I can tell you when Ari had a dentist appointment in 1997. I can tell you when pizza days were at Lakeshore School during 1998. I keep all my income tax returns and receipts for 7 years. Because you have to. But McCallion tosses correspondence daily? And her schedule yearly? Even though it's all stored electronically and takes up a few memory sticks?

I'm not buying it.

But I don't have to. Hand off her hard drive - or her Assistant's - to IT. Sorry, Hazel. It's all still there.

Get it and make this be over sooner.

Join me on CTS' On The Line with host Christine Williams from 2pm - 3pm today.

It's a live call in! Call in!

I better get over there....

If you're on Facebook, you can join a petition here...


See my blog from a couple of days ago for more info.

This made me smile.

If you don't like cats, don't bother. But actually, it's almost cat torture, so it might be for you too.

It's short. And made me laugh and laugh...

...and it shouldn't be with you.

Immigration Minister Jason Kenney has censored a key guide - a government publication - issued from his office to immigrants applying for Canadian citizenship.

The plundered sections? Those pertaining to gay rights and same-sex marriage. He had them struck from the official version, over repeated advice from senior department officials.

No, Mr. Kenney will be having none of that.

"Homosexuality was decriminalized in 1969 and more recently, civil marriage rights to same-sex couples was legalized nationwide in 2005," the earliest draft of the guide says under the section Towards a Modern Canada.

And in the section on citizenship rights, the early draft said: "Equality Rights - Canadians are protected against discrimination based on race, gender, national origin, religion, sexual orientation or age."

He struck both those lines. Because he doesn't agree. And apparently, what Jason Kenney has personally decided is now how Canada will be represented. He is repeatedly on the record as being a foe of equal rights for gay Canadians. We get it. But you lost. And you don't get to run around spewing your own narrow views on the corporate letterhead.

He rightfully notes that such a pamphlet can't reflect every area of Canadian law. Silly me. I would think that freedom from persecution based on sexual orientation, and the freedom to marry the person you love regardless of gender would be a very big one to include. Canadian rights and freedoms are envied the world over for this very reason: we keep our noses out of other people's bedrooms.

Mr. Harper, we are listening, and we are watching. We just watched an Olympic Games that had to be felt in hearts the world over. I know you saw it; the camera was on your freeloading mug every ten seconds, as you took that extended holiday from governing to play for 2 months. But even you couldn't take away the pride that so many Canadians felt on so many levels through those two weeks.

Canadians know how to play; they know how to win; they know how to host, and they know how to party. And you know what else they know how to do? They know how to let others be a part of this great country. If a country this big, this complex and this different can embrace everyone, surely those wanting to be here deserve to know one of the best parts of being Canadian: the freedom to be who you are, to study hard, to work hard, to succeed and to be safe.

Mr. Kenney, stop inserting your own judgmental views and lack of tolerance into an official document that represents me.

If you do, you might have already heard about a new initiative taking place, Shape Burlington. It's a committee formed to talk to citizens about civic engagement.

Yeah, talking about talking. But for a change, it's more about listening. Know why it's going to work? Because we're not politicians.

Why do I know so much about Shape Burlington? Because I'm on the Steering Committee. Because I'm the Communications Director. Ha!

We are drafting up a formal report that will be made to the public, the mayor and the council. We are asking as many people as we can for their ideas, their concerns, and their opinions.

Want to be heard? Attend one of the public meetings starting tonight, tomorrow night, and then on March 2. Go to the website and take a survey. Go to the website and say your piece in the forums. Or email me directly and outline everything you've ever wanted to say about Burlington.

I spent yesterday with 3 Civics classes at a local high school. We're going to conduct roundtable meetings with students as well. If your kid is in high school, contact us and we can go and make them part of this. I don't care if they don't vote yet - I want to know what they think about their city.

I'll be at the March 2 public meeting. Please come out to one of them - tonight, tomorrow, March 2 - and join in. It's not a townhall meeting where people line up at a microphone to yell at each other. It's discussions amongst real citizens, conducted by real citizens, and facilitated by people like me.

Want to change Burlington? Then help Shape Burlington.

Lots of info at the website linked.

The 41-year-old Australian physicist worked at the Chalk River nuclear facility. And on January 18, he disappeared from his home in near the Ottawa River.

Keys, passport, I.D. all left behind. Car still there. Gone. this orderly, meticulous man did not go for a walk and get lost - when he went for walks, he took with him the following: a GPS, a whistle, a fanny pack and a flashlight. This is not an impulsive man. I doubt a sudden trill of spontaneity grabbed him.

It's been a month. His family must be frantic.

Where is Lachlan Cranswick?

I was one of those who once held great esteem for Elizabeth Edwards. I didn't care much for her coiffed, shallow husband (yes, this was evident to anyone who looked closely enough - sometimes it's pretty easy to see which half of a couple has the actual substance), but now, well, now I'm finding myself stranded with my own silly assessment.

For anyone just checking in she finally left his sorry ass when he finally (2 years too late) admitted to fathering a child with another woman. The lie was worse than the offence - Elizabeth has been battling cancer - now terminal - for years. They have two young children, an older daughter and they endured the sorrow of losing another son in a car accident. Clearly, more than enough trauma for any family.

Today, Elizabeth has finally spoken after her announcement that her marriage was over. This is a public, media savvy woman. Follow this part of the interview:

The reference to her husband's affair came when a student asked: "If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?"

Elizabeth, laughed with the crowd and said "I know the answer...I think you do, too."

Really? That's what you would change? You wouldn't rather have your teenage son, say, alive? You wouldn't rather, say, not have terminal cancer?

When priorities become this messed up, it's hard to know who to sympathize with.

Maybe they deserve each other.

I thought Adam Giambrone's (see a couple of posts ago) sextmails were embarrassing. Well, no, I knew they were. I will never, ever erase "I like you because you're smart and interesting. You're also good-looking naked" from my brain. Trust me; I would like to. All I can hear is Ben Stiller in that model movie saying 'gOOd-looking'. That movie was funny, actually. Giambrone is not.

Anyway. Today's lesson comes to you from a sex therapist (really? a sex therapist?) in Florida who was banging a client, stealing pills from her and all the while billing her insurance company. Full service provider, indeed. So. First things first. If you end up in Smoking Gun, dunzo. Over. While you're at the link, go check through the other sections of that site.

Now, as a trusted member of the medical community, it is highly recommended that you fix your patients, but not do them. Big, big pond; catch another fish. And if your client is a fragile, depressed woman, the sign you are seeing is not 'bingo'. It is 'beware'.

Where am I going? TEXT MESSAGES. I don't text message. I managed it once, got a column out of it, and swore never to revisit it. I know tons of people who live by the stupid things. I even know some grown-up adult type people who are incessantly doing it. It's remarkable, actually. I can understand teenagers. I would have been all over this when I was, say, 15. And to transfer information ("I'll be out front at 5" "Don't forget to grab some milk"), I can see its value for big people. But mostly, I see it as another tether strap between teenage girls sitting beside each other, and teenage girls trying to figure out if he's somewhere with some other teenage girl.

Sorry. Too much tethering.

But for big people? For big people in love? For big people in love who are in politics or a sensitive discipline? Really? Text messaging?

The Florida shrink? Who was boffing his patient? His sex therapy patient? Who was fragile? And he was ripping off for more than her heart? Yup. Text messaging. Ready? "U r soooo hot!! I worry that I m holding u back from a younger stud who can really meet ur need!! lol!"

The good news? You're off the hook, Adam. Seriously.

For christsakes grownups, stop sending these messages. You're killing me.