There was an interesting letter to the editor in the Globe and Mail today:
"As a Calgary stockbroker, I was particularly affected by the boom-bust nature of Cowtown’s economy.
During the nasty downturn in 1991, I took a part-time job as a parking valet at the venerable Palliser hotel. On my first day there was a convention of accountants, most of them driving monstrous trucks with double tires. It was a hugely stressful baptism by fire, negotiating these behemoths around a cramped parkade.
Any relief I felt on the last day was short-lived: According to the manifest, the next group checking in were cattle producers from northern Alberta. If accountants drove monster trucks, I could only imagine what cattlemen drove. Then the first cowboy arrived – in a Mazda Miata.
The real cowboys drove nice but rather plain cars to come into town. They had nothing to prove.
Ken Johnston Ottawa"
This story isn't universally true of course. My secretary, who owned more than 20 quarter horses, won a Ram half ton at an auction. Without ever taking delivery, she immediately traded it in for a heavy duty Ram dually. That vehicle had work to do. Her daily driver was a Subaru sedan.
