Joe is talking with Nelly Furtado, remembering an old story from their younger days.
Joe says, “Nel, back in high school I had this strange dream about you. In the dream you were like the female Ronald Reagan. You used your entertainment career as the launchpad, and next thing you know you’re the Prime Minister of Canada.”
Nelly laughs and shakes her head.
“Joe, if you believed that prophecy so much,” she teases, “why didn’t you and your brother Mike Jukic take that invite to the Victoria Robin Hood motel back in the day?”
Joe shrugs and gives a half-smile.
“Because,” he says, “I wanted Prime Minister Nelly… not Portuguese mafia Nelly.”
Nelly bursts out laughing.
“Joe, you thought one motel invite was going to turn me into a crime boss?”
Joe raises his hands defensively. “Hey, history is full of strange turning points. One wrong scene and suddenly the story changes.”
Nelly smirks. “Relax, Joe. If I ever run the country, I promise the campaign headquarters won’t be a motel.”
Joe nods. “Good. Because the dream always had you walking into Ottawa like Reagan walked into Washington — star power first, politics second.” 😄
