Cancer Does What Years Of Idiocy And Self-Abuse Couldn’t. Farewell, Rob Ford
Once more, for old time’s sake.

I’ve never bought into the idea that when a person dies, every shitty thing he ever did in his life dies with him, so I’m not going to sit here and write a whole bunch about Rob Ford and how he just lost his courageous battle with cancer and what a brave, kind, humble and determined man he always was in spite of his flaws. I’m almost certain that some columnist somewhere who used to revel in bagging on him for fun and profit is already writing that article, and to that columnist I offer the sincerest of preemptive fuck yous. But I’m also not going to join in the fresh round of to hell with that guy piling on that’s sure to start up now that we’re all remembering him, because what’s the point? I said every negative thing I wanted to say about Rob Ford while he was alive and I take none of them back, but unless there’s a particularly good joke or observation that hasn’t been made yet, there’s nothing to gain in any way by disrespecting him anew. Remember, no matter what you may think of public facing Rob Ford, he’s still somebody’s son, somebody’s father, somebody’s husband, somebody’s brother. And for better or for worse, those people love him and are well aware of what he was, even if some of them can’t admit it and probably helped enable it. Even if I think that Rob Ford is exactly where he belongs right now and I’m not saying I do, I absolutely feel for his family and wish them the best right now. Yes, even Doug.

I don’t know if his trip to rehab did him any good. The opinions I heard always seemed pretty mixed. But if he was truly sincere about getting it together but never got the chance because of his cancer, that’s honestly one of the most tragic things about this. Not because a head free of drugs and alcohol would have suddenly transformed Rob Ford into a champion of multiculturalism and gay rights, but because none of us, most of all him, ever got the chance to see what he could have become.

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