HARRY STINSON
Last weekend I saw a boy order eight hot dogs at Ikea and I thought to myself, “wow. What a dreamer.†He somehow cobbled together the money from his mother’s purse and said to himself, “self? I know I’m only nine and this may very well kill me, but to NOT eat eight hot dogs here and now would kill me, in a different way, in a worse way.â€
Harry Stinson is like that boy, but he took that money, flew too close to that hot dog sun, and fell to earth with remarkably bad indigestion. As everyone knows, Mr. Stinson has been given the boot from his digs at 1 King West, the building having gone into receivership. His long battle with David Mirvish, the mother’s purse, is done and now Harry Stinson, the dreamer, may be leaving town. Out of embarrassment?
For fear of plummeting detritus from abandoned builidings? Nope. Because Canadians can’t cope with dreamers. "If one wants to be an entrepreneur, with original ideas, Canada is the wrong country to be born in. This country focuses on telling you why you can't do something."
Clear words from the broken dreamer’s mouth, empty of hot dogs. With our best minds heading south we talk about the “brain drain,†but between you and me we can afford to lose a few brains here and there. Can we afford, though, to have a “dream drain�
Frankly, a “dream drain†terrifies me, not just because it sounds like a Stephen King novel, but because that’s how great things start, like great buildings or the pride of downed wieners. With dreams.
FORTUNE
Harry will go the States, but soon realize that even though America supports dreams, they also love seeing people fail. Oh, what a land!
Photo illustration by Steve Murray for National Post