Underdog (30 page)

It was during the summer of 2012 after I'd finished three months investigating the $1-billion Regent Park revitalization that the gentle man I have jokingly adopted as a second brother, gay lawyer Martin Gladstone, started trying to convince me to write a book. He could see that the political discourse had become so polarized and that the media focus had become so fixated on the late Rob Ford's terribly unsophisticated but heartfelt attempts to stop the Gravy Train, that he felt a broader insight into what happens behind the scenes at City Hall was sorely needed. He believed I could and should write the inside story of City Hall to try to shape the agenda in the 2014 election. That was long before Mr. Ford's troubles with crack-cocaine and with drinking came to light. At that point Mr. Ford was merely – and I use the word “merely” tongue in cheek – being harassed and stalked continuously by the media and being dragged through the courts on frivolous charges. My wife, Denise, who has always been tremendously supportive even when she is forced to listen to the same political story for the fifth or sixth time at a dinner
out or at a cocktail party, picked up where Martin left off, repeatedly pushing me to pursue a book.

It just so happened that around the same time I'd connected with the outspoken and politically astute Patti Starr, who'd written her own book
Tempting Fate
after taking the fall for David Peterson and his inner circle in the 1989 Patti Starr inquiry. When Patti wrote me to congratulate me for stirring it up with my exposé into Regent Park, we met for lunch and I spoke of the book idea. I had absolutely no clue where to start. She kindly offered to put me in touch with Don Bastian, formerly with Stoddard Publishing who now runs his own publishing house called BPS Books. With Don's help and his tremendous knowledge of the publishing business, I sat down during the 2012 Christmas holidays in Florida and crafted a book proposal that would be based on a tell-all about City Hall. Don and I worked together to fine tune the proposal and he found me agent Robert Lecker. After four months talking to various publishers, Doug Pepper at Penguin Random House Canada took me under wing and with his kind coaching we expanded my scope to
Underdog –
a tell-all no-holds-barred book about my life, the hurdles I've had to overcome, and my very controversial, outspoken views about left-wing politics, politicians, and political correctness.

Then the real hard work started – a marathon that took nearly three years of weekends and nights from start to finish. Throughout, I could not have done it without the wonderful and loving support of my wife Denise. I will never forget how, about six weeks into my initial two month book leave in Florida, a treasured gift showed up on my desk, an old Remington typewriter from the 1930s she found on eBay, along with a note congratulating me on my first book. I can't
begin to say how lucky I got when I stepped up her driveway in 2006. Besides being intelligent, a multi-talented artist, designer, and singer, who knew what a great editor she could be? Being a quintessential Virgo, she read through each and every chapter and offered up fresh ideas and a fresh way of saying things. She always says god is in the details and that was indeed true as I watched her pore through chapter after chapter. But in addition to her keen insights and intelligence, she has a wonderful sense of humour. She always made me laugh especially when I got stressed out about meeting deadlines or frustrated with the long hours it took to write and edit this. I fully expect that she will be selling this book as much, if not more than me. She is absolutely adept at winning people over, so much so that I'm often asked if Denise will be accompanying me to political gatherings.

A very special thanks to my parents, Judy and Lou Levy for instilling in me a zest for life, a tremendous work ethic, a drive to be the best I can be and a real sense of social justice. There is no doubt I've inherited my outspokenness from my mother Judy.

Thanks must also go to Barb and Bob Covell, our special Florida friends, who made sure I had breaks at the beach and our favourite movie theatre during my two-month book leave. They are the kind of people one is so blessed to meet, who like Martin Gladstone and his partner Frank Caruso, we formed a bond with initially out of adversity. Special tributes must be paid to Dr. Karen Abrams, my emotional tour guide, for steering me down the road to recovery and for sharing far too many painful and bittersweet moments to count with me – and to Ellie Levine for offering me a lifeline when I so desperately needed it after my 2005 assault. To the many
wonderful people who took me under wing during the year I spent fighting the justice system, most especially former Toronto auditor-general Jeff Griffiths and my dear late uncle Jeff Lyons, and to the friends, political and otherwise, who were there for me when I came out.

Thanks to gay Conservative Jamie Ellerton for taking the time to meet with me and share his thoughts on the federal and provincial Conservatives. And a special shout-out must go to our wonderful and now defunct
Toronto Sun
library system – so adeptly managed by Julie Kirsh. Julie was always there to boost my spirits during the drafts and revisions until she and her library ladies became unfortunate victims of the merger between Sun Media and Post Media in late 2015.

I will always be grateful for the kind encouragement of my editors at the
Toronto Sun
: editor emeritus Lorrie Goldstein, my mentor and my friend; editor-in-chief Adrienne Batra, who supported my many crusades, along with my weight loss leading up to the launch of this book; city editor Jonathan Kingstone; deputy editor Kevin Hann; and to everyone I've worked with at the
Toronto Sun,
past and present – James Wallace, Lou Clancy, the late Peter O'Sullivan and of course, the indomitable Les Pyette – who have allowed me to tell it the way I see it and to constantly stir it up. Special thanks to my dear long-time colleague and friend Zen Ruryk who has always had my back.

There are so many politicians, activists, advocates, union honchos, radical gays, public teat-suckers, poverty pimps, and media sheep who have fuelled my creativity, and often nearly drove me to drink over the years, that I would need an entire book to recognize them. Let's just say that I hope I've adequately reflected the madness and the constant lunacy
exhibited by the Lib-left and their media sycophants during my years as a political journalist and a champion for the underdog. To my dear friend, contact, and confidante, former councillor and city budget chief Mike Del Grande, who always called me with “juicy juicies,” and to Doug Holyday, the first councillor I told I was gay. He, too, has been a wonderful friend and contact over the years. I would be remiss if I didn't recognize the many clerks who shared coffee dates with me at City Hall during which we'd laugh, swap stories and gossip. Dear clerk Patsy Morris and her infectious laugh will always be in my heart. Patsy passed away of colon cancer at age 59, far before her time, in 2011.

But most of all, I am grateful for the many experiences that life has thrown my way, good and bad. Although I probably wouldn't have said it at the time, the obstacles have certainly shaped who I am and why I tell it like it is. As I've said in the book, I am living proof that what doesn't beat you down, or worse kill you, definitely makes you stronger.