A Timely End For Dr. Phil

Harper, McGuinty duke it out in Dr. Phil's House
Nov. 13, 2006. 01:00 AM
LINWOOD BARCLAY

It was just a short item in the paper last week. Ontario Premier Dalton McGuinty had a secret meeting with Prime Minister Stephen Harper.

There were no details.

Where, exactly, did they met? Did Dalton go to Ottawa? Did Harper come to Toronto? What did they discuss?

What progress was made settling the various disputes that been the subject of so many public scraps between them?

Well, some journalists may think they know what happened, but I've learned from my own sources that the quarrelsome McGuinty and Harper met on neutral ground, with help from a third party.

They went to The Dr. Phil House. I've seen the advance video.

As you may know, this is where the noted television psychologist corrals people who are inclined to hate each other's guts, with the goal of getting them to understand one another.

The first thing Dr. Phil did was show the two politicians where they'd be sleeping.

"Bunk beds?" said Stephen. "We're in the same room?"

"Dibs on the top bed!" said Dalton, throwing his bag up there.

"Hold on, pal," said Stephen. "As prime minister, I outrank a premier, so I get the top."

"Oh yeah?" said Dalton. "Maybe that's your whole problem, this air of superiority you've got going all the — "

"Okay, that's enough," said Dr. Phil. "You're going to have to start finding a way to work these things out because you're stuck here together. You unpack, and come on down for lunch."

Later, their hair all tousled and their clothes torn from fighting, they came down for lunch. They said nothing while they ate their sandwiches, but gave each other dirty looks. When dessert was served, Dalton said, "I think Stephen's piece of cherry pie is bigger than mine."

"Is not," he said, using his arms to shield his plate from Dalton.

"I want a more equal share," Dalton persisted. "You never divvy things up equally. You know what you are, Stephen? You're a big unequal pie eater, that's what you are! You're happy for everybody else to get along with little pie scraps!"

"Oh, look who's grandstanding now!" Stephen said. "First, you tell me if you have the bottom bunk you'll get claustrophobia and break out in a rash — "

"Not just that," Dalton protested. "With you up there, I was afraid the bunk would come crashing down on me, you big — "

Dr. Phil pounded his fist on the table. "Look at you two! At each other like two dogs fighting over a bone. Is this workin' for ya? Is it?"

Dalton, sheepishly, said, "Maybe not."

Stephen shrugged. "It works for me."

Dr. Phil turned on Stephen. "You think so?" He shook his head in frustration. "Okay, I got a job for the two of you to do together. I need you to clean up the basement of The Dr. Phil House."

Stephen said, "Gee, sorry, that sounds like an environmental project. I have to be in the House of Commons. I have to tour the Arctic. I have to — "

Dr. Phil lunged forward. "Listen, I'm gonna be in your face all the time if you're not willing to face up to your responsibilities."

"Yeah, Stephen," said Dalton.

"And you," Dr. Phil said, turning on Dalton, "had better stop your whining, this `poor me' thing you've got going on is getting pretty tiresome, you ask me."

He walked over to the basement door, opened it, and held out a garbage bag for each of them. As Stephen and Dalton approached, they glanced at one another, then shoved Dr. Phil down the basement stairs and locked the door.

"Maybe he's helped us reach agreement in at least one area," Dalton said.

"Perhaps he has," Stephen said.

"It's true what I said, though," said Dalton. "About the rash."