Oh this one is going to be juicy. Short, sweet, but juicy - sort of.
It's 1997-98 (it's been a while, it could even be 96-97), Justin Trudeau is in university and is set to complete his teaching internship at Centennial Regional High School in Greenfield Park, Quebec, Canada.
I am currently attending school there in the T.a.G. program, a regrouping of "the brightest" students identified in the early stages of elementary school and pooled together in some kind of coordinated effort to form future leaders. I digress... other conspiracy theory I might tackle sometime. Where was I.. oh right! So, here we are getting ready to welcome the interns that will get to experiment on us, when a hippy-looking, poncho-wearing, long-haired Justin Trudeau walks right in. Now, get this: I have no clue it's him at this point. None. And he's is so dreamy. I won't lie: he only became ugly midway through the internship. I'll get there.
So this hunk of hippy walks in to English class and we're being told he's our teacher for the next while. Kewl beans. The school day ends, I get my ass on the school bus and head home, and I just can't wait to tell mom about the stud interning.
The conversation when something like this (please forgive my re-telling lacking precision of language, I'm 40 and all of this happened when I was around the age of 16.)
Mom, you have GOT TO SEE this dude teaching us. He's gorgeous. I mean lose-my-focus gorgeous. His name is Mr. Trudeau. Justin.
His name is what?
Mr. Trudeau. Justin Trudeau.
Mom, setting me up:
Do me a favour tomorrow, will you? Ask him if his birthday is on December 25th.
I look at her strangely but naively accept her request. I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHO HE IS.
The Next Day
The next day, everything goes according to plan - except for the very uncomfortable grin I got that day. A grin I didn't understand until I got home from school. She set me up, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I walk in to English class and without missing a beat, walk up to his desk and ask him the question:
Um, Sir, my mom wanted me to ask you a question: is your birthday on December 25th?
Justin, with a grin that made me cringe because I didn't understand why he was grinning:
Yes. My birthday is on December 25th.
I awkwardly walk back to my desk, still very confused about this proxy-relationship building between JT and mom and the creepy AF grin I just got from my hot-as-hell teacher. (I promise I came to understand he was and still is as ugly as ugly can humanely get.)
The day rolls on, I get on the bus and head back home with my mom's prize in mind: the answer to her question.
The Truth Shall Set You Free
So, I walk in and before I can take my shoes off and hang my coat, mom is at the top the stairs, waiting for an answer.
Yes. His birthday is on the 25th.
Her eyes lit right up as she exclaimed a proud and bellowing I KNEW IT! Understand: I am STILL CONFUSED. I still have not the slightest clue as to what the fuck is going on.
And that's when mom sat me down and started to explain: Mr. hot af Trudeau is Trudeau JUNIOR - son of Pierre Elliot Trudeau. Well shit. The son of an ex-Prime Minister is my teacher. WOAH.
I think back at how impressed I was and honestly, it makes me want to vomit. But it's the truth so FUCK TOUTE.
Thanks for the Rant, Nat. STFU and Get to The Simpsons
I hear you, but I needed to paint a picture, man. Right! Day after day, this English class is falling more and more in love with JT.
This guy's speaking was so good, he could keep a bunch of teenagers enthralled in the English language. Of course, being who he is, doing the internship wasn't enough.
Him and his friend (also interning), launch an afterschool club. It's a riddle solving club. Shit. You had me at hello. My girlfriends and I sign up, half because we're nerds and love riddles, the other half because SHIT we get the JT to ourselves after school. WINNING!!
The Simpsons: How Did They Know? Who Told Them?
We're a tiny group. No more than 10 of us in a classroom reserved for this after school riddle club.
Hosted by JT and his colleague, the two men exchange turns challenging us with some riddles that I can remember to this day, they were that good.
Right, so here comes JT with his storytelling. His riddle is about a sailor. Out of NOWHERE, for NO REASON, he decides to pull a gymnastic move on the desk:
No word of a lie.
I still don't know why.
Who was he trying to impress? We were 16. It was irrelevant to the riddle. Baffling.
The riddle club ends for the day, everyone goes home, and we wash rinse and repeat the next day. He would never do that move again, but a moment like that stays in your mind forever.
Well, here we are decades later, and someone, somewhere, somehow, knew about this trend of his and actually through it on The Simpsons.
I swear, I almost died when I saw this. I can confirm: this is something he has done at least once in front of random HS students.
The Simpsons strike again.
If you're wondering about the moment I stopped drooling and snapped out my hypnosis: the hippy turned into a suit and tie within 24 hours.
He showed up with a new hair cut, a suit, leather shoes - gone were the curls and poncho. When we asked him why, his answer was simple: he wanted to impress whomever was coming to do his evaluation that day.
At that moment, we all knew he was a sellout.
Funny, most of my graduating class probably voted for him. Meh.
Side note: I sent a petition off to the Commons! True story:
I have one question: Why aren't Prime Ministers subject to "passing grades" like the rest of us? Learn more about my petition.
See you on the flipside.