If it’s true, prepare yourself for a season of variations on the same extremely lame joke. “Who’s better than John Tory? Sooomebody!”

News emerged this week that Blayne Lastman, local businessman and son of former Toronto mayor Mel Lastman, is seriously thinking about running for mayor in the city’s mayoral election, come October. This means that not only is the province’s sex-education curriculum potentially headed back to late 1990s, Toronto itself may be headed there too.

Lastman Sr., a.k.a. Mega City Mel, served T.O. from 1998-2003. You may remember him as the guy from the Bad Boy furniture ads, or perhaps as the guy who summoned the military to deal with a blizzard in 1999. A nine-year-old when his term began, I remember him as the “Jewish mayor,” a point of pride for many who share my faith, until the “boiling pot” incident of 2001, when prior to leaving for Kenya to support Toronto’s bid for the 2008 Summer Olympics, Lastman said the following out loud: “What the hell would I want to go to a place like Mombasa for? … I just see myself in a pot of boiling water with all these natives dancing around me.” (From then on he would be known in my household as the “why does he have to be Jewish?” mayor.)

What nickname his son, Blayne, will take if he decides to run for office before the registration deadline later this month remains unknown. But for the sake of our already bereaved city (adieu, DeMar DeRozan) I pray he does not enter public service.

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I pray he sticks to the Bad Boy business of selling sectionals. In fact, if you’re reading this Blayne, I pledge to purchase every sectional in your possession if you abstain from running for public office. Because the last thing this city needs — the last thing any democracy needs frankly — is another political family dynasty.

Our country belongs to the Trudeaus. Our province to the Fords. Must our city go for a second time around to the Lastmans? And not just any Lastman, but a guy who willingly attended U.S. President Donald Trump’s inauguration last year and had this to say about it in the Toronto Sun: “Time of our lives. Incredible. I’ve taken my son to Super Bowls and Stanley Cup finals and great WWE wrestling matches, but this tops all of that by far.”

Yes you read that right. Donald Trump’s inauguration was a highlight of this man’s life. It was better than the Stanley Cup final. Even if you’re sick and tired of anti-Trump sentiment you have to admit that’s a little off, and possibly treasonous, coming from a Canadian.

It’s also worth noting that Blayne Lastman attended the inauguration with his son Brad, also a Trump fan. In other words, the Lastmans aren’t just a would-be political dynasty. They’re a Trump-loving dynasty. But Trump aside — politics aside — it’s the entity of the family dynasty itself that voters should object to.

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Because when a person belongs to a very wealthy, well-known brood, public service is not necessarily a higher calling. Most of the time it’s a cop-out or a hobby — it’s something to do when you’ve reached a certain age and you’re bored of spending your money on vacations and renovations. The family dynasty does its best to convince ordinary people that wealth is an excellent prerequisite for leadership and inexperience is a virtue.

Why else but the sheer fact of his surname does a guy like Blayne Lastman feel comfortable declaring an interest in running for mayor without first presenting to the public a single coherent idea about how he will make the city a better place? On the contrary, at the very least, a candidate whose name you’ve never heard before and will soon forget tries to come up with an idea you will remember. The city of Toronto doesn’t need a Lastman or a Ford or a Trudeau on the ticket. It needs a nobody.

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