Children of all ages. Do not attempt this at home. It is thankless low-paying work that will bring you and others much heartache. You will be spat on, called names, slandered in the supposedly hallowed halls of power, worship, bureaucracy and practically no one will vote for you. And those, believe it or not, are the good parts.

On the chance you would ever do this kind of work, find something to fall back such as lawyer, doctor or a singer.

Like George Jones. Who just so happens to be headed to a Mohawk Rez near you. Yes Mr. Jones and the Jones Boys are coming. Call Mouchie at 514-635-4261 or 632-9613 for tickets before August 24, 1997. Circle that date on your Nation calendars. Those numbers again, 514-635-4261, 514-632-9614. Amen.

“I will go to Eastmain!” I said with as much drama as I could muster. Adding arrogantly that I would fly back the same day, pinning my hopes on the local airline’s legendary Indian time schedule. But it was not to be. For some strange reason everything and everyone except my driver was running 15 minutes early and I missed the plane coming back by five minutes. “You should have told me you were going back,” the agent excused himself. But I didn’t mind so I hitched another ride to Mandow Inn in the heart of downtown Eastmain and checked in. The 10-room Inn opened on November 5, 1994, said the sign outside. I’m happy they have a new motel. The previous one I stayed at one cold fall was at the edge of town, had no running water, no TV and no heat. There was a search and rescue operation on with a helicopter coming in and out at the time. Some young men had drowned while out hunting so it was very spooky walking home one dark windy night. But, hey, that’s just me. I’ve had some weird experiences with spirits of the dearly departed and that’s not something you want to experience alone.

Natives males are “In” in the world of romance novels, someone mentioned the other day. Previously it had been “swarthy,” jet-setting Mediterranean men with names like Fernando, Orlando and maybe even Florida. Look on any bookstore rack in the Harlequin and its competitors’ racks. You see names like Grey Cloud, Dark Cloud, Good Cloud. But funnily enough, no McLeods. The Indian men are usually “relationship risks” for their almost always white businesswoman babes. And usually have work as “trackers” for the local police force. And get this, they have the ability to go back in time. Just what it is they do there you’ll have to look up yourself. The books usually have an illustration of an extremely muscular brave with his arms wrapped around an even more extremely voluptuous half naked woman who, just moments ago, was what is known in the romance universe as a “damsel in distress.” I hear Fabio used to pose as a Native for these covers when they couldn’t get anybody else Native looking enough.

Photo-with-celebrity contest. The little cutie pictured above is then two-year-old Brittany Gilpin of Eastmain with Kirk Muller in Chisasibi. Brittany’s mom Jane says she is now a Maple Leafs fan.

Wild rumours are flying around Indian country about Ovide Wednesday passing the torch to another as National Chief. And guess who’s name is being dropped at strategic locations across Canada. That’s right, the pride of Mistissini hisself, Matthew Coon Come. Perhaps he is destined for be forever known as MCC, former GC of the GCCQ/EA (formerly GCCQ)… Oh forget it. My unemployed political advisor advises, “One person, one vote, Mr. Coon Come. After all it’s only fair. For other could be’s.”

Chef Jean Cuisine was enjoying a few cordials with his wife in Val d’Or’s Chateau 80 when a noisy, violent scuffle broke out between the happy couple. Cuisine was thrown out before he had a chance to do major damage and finish his stiff drink. He tried to go back in the next evening with a friend but was stopped by a burly bouncer. So he gave up and went home with his tail between his legs.