Babbling to Trudeau

I started rather politely and then proceeded to babble something along the lines of, “Monsieur Trudeau, I am so-and-so, publisher of a philosophy magazine – somewhat like your Cite Libre, (that got a smile) and I am very hopeful you will read my letter and answer three short questions of a philosophical nature.” I did mention the name of the paper, and on the word “village” he interrupted and said, “It is a very beautiful village.” I agreed and continued my appeal.
Mr Trudeau replied, “I do not talk to the press any more. If I talked to you, what would the Montreal press say?” Evidently he didn’t want to be hounded by the press in his home town. I persisted about my letter and after a brief moment he advanced and accepted my letter (as I had a copy in my jacket) and offered, “I will read your letter but I will not respond.”
I mumbled, “I’m most disappointed. I’m up against Conrad Black down the street. This interview could mean a great deal.” Somewhat before a begging process kicked in (who said journalism was pretty?) I retreated and he ambled toward the hotel elevator. It occurred to me after I didn’t even shake his hand.

That night I held out the remote possibility that that he might adequately like my letter as to call me over for a chat, so I waited at the office. No such luck.

I waited at the office the next morning until nine a.m. and then, thinking he might be out for walk as he was the night before, I headed out to do some more stalking duty. I encountered two other members of the local media, Bob Price of Venture Magazine and Donna Sproule, an ever-charming ad saleslady and as I was chatting with them in front of the City Hall out popped Mr Trudeau from the Heritage Hotel across the street. I bounded across and wished him good morning, and asked if he had read my letter and papers.