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I've Never Done a 'Callout' Before. Am I Doing It Right?


Ashoka the Great

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When I posted my musings on having torn my rotator cuff, I didn't expect someone to wander in and call me a liar over something completely unrelated.

Behold Jaiar, proud member of the New Pacific Order:

You must be bored out of your mind to write all this and all your other blogs. You'll get some replies but I doubt people are genuinely interested in all this much less your horribly shopped up pic with Margaret Thatcher - Not RealYeah yeah, I'm not important either but at least I know it.

Wait, what? I post a story about my idiotic stunt that injured my shoulder and my previous experiences with Canada's appalling healthcare system and someone I've never heard of wanders in, calls me a liar about something that I posted in the picture thread some time ago and expects me not to respond?

tsk tsk tsk

He don't know me very well, do he?

I did attempt to give the photo some context:

You must be bored out of your mind to write all this and all your other blogs. You'll get some replies but I doubt people are genuinely interested in all this much less your horribly shopped up pic with Margaret Thatcher - Not RealYeah yeah, I'm not important either but at least I know it.
I type at somewhere around 115 words per minute, so it's no effort whatsoever. When I'm feeling motivated I write. No motivation? No writing. It's really quite simple.With regard to the picture, I'm not entirely sure why you decided to bring it up, but OK I'll bite.It was September 1992 at the Royal York Hotel in Toronto. Thatcher was there to speak to a group of about 1,000 businesspeople organized by Vancouver's Fraser Institute. I was the Institute's Director of Development for several years, beginning in mid-1991. It was my first job after university. In that photo I would have been 26-1/2 years old, give or take a couple of weeks.If for some reason you require proof that I am who I say I am, go here. Note the sentence-long biographical blurb at the bottom. Send me an e-mail. I'll be happy to post it here.If you wish to dig any further, please let me know. An awful lot of my life is recounted in long-buried parts of the Internet.Sorry to disappoint.

EDIT: Horribly shopped up pic? Did you make sure to examine the pixels?

EDIT2: Mea culpa. It was actually 1993. She was in town to promote the first volume of her autobiography. (1992 was a different meeting altogether.) If you look closely, you'll see that the brooch she's wearing is a Haida-inspired rendering of a killer whale. That was our gift to her, since she didn't charge her normal fee for a speaking engagement.

In return I received this:

The pic is most likely a family photo the way the lady in the center is sitting and you the son behind her then Margaret imposed on the pic. Margaret is strangely close to the lady in the center damn near elbowing up her boobs. It's a badly shopped up photo. Your career proves nothing about the photo. You didn't disappoint because I know I'm right.

I don't object to someone attacking me over something I've done. I could probably provide a shopping list of previous activities that would earn my condemnation from all corners of CN. I don't really care, though.

What I do care about is my integrity. At the end of the day, a person is only as good as their word. And, well, I'm not especially fond of being called a liar.

So....I'm calling you out chimp chump champ.

I'm not entirely sure what it will take to convince you that I was there and, yes, that a photo was taken.

Oh wait, yes I do.

I am prepared to give you the contact information for several individuals who can confirm my attendance at this event. If their memories are functional they may remember that I was the person who introduced Lady Thatcher at the luncheon. (It was eighteen years ago; people are allowed to forget things.)

Or, if you prefer, you may appoint a neutral referee to make inquiries on your behalf in order to ensure some kind of fairness.

Presumably there are only a few questions that need to be answered: Did the Fraser Institute host an event featuring Margaret Thatcher at Toronto's Royal York Hotel in 1993? Was I Director of Development at The Fraser Institute at the time? Did I raise the money to pay for the event? Were photographs taken? Was I in one of those photographs?

That should cover it, right?

I am prepared to put it all on the line right here, right now.

So which person would you like to e-mail:

1. The person I shared an office with at the time? A Ph.D in History, former university professor, now working as a newspaper columnist and regular contributor on a Canadian news network. He was there.

2. My former boss? Ph.D in Economics, former Advisor to the Governor of the Bank of Canada. He's now retired but will likely remember my attendance at this event, since I'm the one who raised the money to make it happen. He and I also had some good old-fashioned shouting matches while I worked for him. (Absolutely brilliant man, but one of the most difficult people to work for whom I've ever encountered.)

3. How about my best man? Actually he was my best man on two occasions, but I digress. He's the former owner of Canada's last privately-held Internet Service Provider and the son of one of the founders of a Canadian television network. He was there as my guest. One year later, and at the last minute, he volunteered to serve as photographer for an event featuring the U.S. vice-President, who was in town for a speaking engagement with us.

So take your pick.

Give me a bit of time and I can probably recall others who were there and who will certainly remember my being there as well. Unfortunately, the Institute's Director of Events/Conferences in 1993 has retired. But her then-Assistant now holds her job, so she'd know. Oh wait....and there's our former Director of Finance who, last time I heard, is now an Accouting Professor. (You'll like him. Harvard MBA but not stuffy at all. Good guy.)

In the meantime, I've given you three very public figures to choose from. Select one, I'll send you their contact information and presto, you shall have your answer. Or you can select all three.

Then you can apologize.

Or, you can take the shorter route and apologize now.

Or, finally, you can take the even shorter route and either ignore this call-out or say something like "I didn't say you weren't there. I said the picture wasn't real." This is the route I expect you to take.

(Protip, pal: If you're going to accuse someone of using Photoshop, GIMP or any other kind of program of that nature, try to make sure they're actually adept at the program. Within NoR, my complete lack of graphics skills is very well known.)

Are you man enough, punk? Do you have the courage of your convictions?

Let me sweeten the pot for you:

If any public figure whom I recommend says I wasn't there, I will pack up and quit CN for good.

Ball's in your court, my friend. Do you have the courage to volley or would you rather just admit defeat right now?

-------------------

And, before anyone asks why I'm doing this in such a very public manner, it's because our consonant-challenged friend did so first.

nyah nyah and all that

(Also, the lady whose face I blacked out -- the publishing V-P -- wasn't sitting. She was just very, very short.)

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