“Special Someone” must have own Country with beach. No weirdos please.
by Tony Wilson

I noted from the Society Pages of the Vancouver Sun some months ago that I was not invited to this year’s Diplomat’s Ball, that glittering shindig for all the chargé d’affaires, consular officers and other members of Vancouver’s small but happy diplomatic corps who read The Economist and know it’s the best posting in the world until they see the rain. I’m disappointed there were no pictures of me in the paper with my very excellent Tuxedo on. This is probably because I am not a member of the Diplomatic Corps in Vancouver. I’m not even from another country. But neither are other members of Vancouver’s consular community. Some have never even set foot on the country they represent. Some are even lawyers!

Being born and raised in B.C.’s capital city, I have no real connection to any foreign country except Victoria. Well, that’s unfair. Victoria isn’t in another country. Victoria is simply in another time zone. When it’s 11 a.m. here, it’s 1972 there. (Bada-Boom!).

So without beating around the bush, I would like one of these consular postings. I just need a polite country that wants my law office or my house (or my sailboat) to be their HQ in Vancouver. So here’s my pitch: I promise to be a good Honorary Consul; to pay all my parking tickets; and to visit your country, even if you don’t take Club Intrawest points. I promise to make myself available to your countrymen and women, preferably if they speak English, have their own accommodation and a return ticket home. I promise I will not say anything bad about your country, unless you are Burma or the other bad ones (you know who you are). I don’t expect money. Just the wall plaque, the diplomatic license plates, the sash, and the party invitations. As I said, I have my own Tuxedo and so does my wife. Being an expert in small talk, I am extremely entertaining at parties, and can carry on a conversation about anything except Morris Dancing and hockey. As an added benefit, I will promote your country to tourists. I “know” some tourists. I have “connections.”

I am reasonably worldly, having been all over Europe, Asia and Africa. But if I have not actually visited your country, I assure you I had the great honour of flying over it once on the way somewhere else.

Because I listen to the BBC, buy Marks and Spencer’s socks and used to play Rugby, my preference is any former colony of the British Empire. I have the unique benefit of speaking the language (I was in “English Immersion” at school). And, because I enjoy rum and got married there, I suspect that there may be Islands in the Caribbean that could use me as their Vancouver Consul. I could even house their luge team during the Olympics in a pinch.

I know places like the Falklands, Pitcairn, St. Helena and Tristan da Cunha aren’t countries, but UK “territories.” Still, they may need representation in Vancouver one day. I know Napoleon died in St. Helena and the Bounty’s descendants live on Pitcairn. Tristan Da Cunha has interesting stamps. This is more than most people know about these places.

Failing that, I’m banking on Palau, Tuvalu, Samoa and other South Pacific island countries, mostly because their native sons wrecked my back in a Rugby game in 1974, so they owe me.

I have my own golf clubs and a kilt. And I look good in a Tuxedo. Respond to Box 4261, this publication. Nothing kinky. No weirdos please.

Tony Wilson is a Franchise, Trademark and Intellectual Property Lawyer at Boughton in Vancouver. Vancouver Franchise Lawyer Tony Wilson has written for the Globe and Mail, Macleans Magazine and Canadian Lawyer. twilson@boughton.ca

Web: www.boughton.ca/people/lawyers/tony_wilson

This article was published in the December 2007 issue of BarTalk and is subject to the copyright by the British Columbia Branch of the Canadian Bar Association, 2007, all rights reserved.