Except we're not there

In the Punjab, I mean.  We're in the Parliament of Canada.  "It's normal in the Punjabi culture to lend money to friends and family," said a ridiculous assistant to the disgraced Raj Grewal, trying to defend why Grewal won't reveal who has handed him the millions needed to pay off his astounding gambling debts.

Obviously, those giving him the cash want him to remain in Parliament, representing them for their own self interest.  I mean, that's obvious.  But in Canada, we don't do things like that and he should resign, as he said he would.  Guess he can't forego that $170,000 salary -- that would buy a lot of poker chips. 

It wasn't that long ago Canada was a very puritanical society, maybe three generations.  I can well remember my grandmother and great aunt frowning on even drinking tea, let alone liquor.  At Christmas, my father and uncles would sneak out to the back porch to have a snort or two, out of sight of Aunt May.  "Would you like me to wave the tea bag over your cup of hot water, Aunt May?" one of my uncles used to ask.  As to dancing?  Out of the question.  These are the foundations upon which our Parliamentary democracy was built and stands today.

Honesty, frugality and transparency.  Not money laundering and under-the-table payoffs.  Frankly, we're still fairly puritanical underneath all the sex, drugs and rock and roll. 

As I always say, if you smell a rat there's a rat to be smelled.  A few years ago at one of my dinner parties, a friend speculated about a member of our tennis club perhaps being a Nazi because he hailed from Argentina, but was blonde and blue-eyed.  "You can't call him a Nazi," one of the other guests said.  "Of course he's a Nazi," piped up another.  As I said, a rat to be smelled.