OWEN TRIBUTE TURNS INTO CLARKE FOCUS GROUP

Jennifer Clarke's campaign for the mayor's chair is turning into an
exercise in poor taste, bad political judgement and raw ambition. In her
latest move, she and the NPA are trying to hijack a fundraising screening
of the film FIX: The Story of an Addicted City, billed as a tribute to
Mayor Phillip Owen.

Owen is still ticked about the way he was manhandled by the Non Partisan
Association-"they kneecapped me and tossed me out." He announced a couple
of weeks ago that instead of doing the usual thing by making his parting
tribute a moneymaker for the NPA, he would raise funds for filmmaker Nettie
Wild and her 90-minute documentary.

Wild's work supports the drug policy Owen champions, the policy that got
him tossed by the crowd that now controls the NPA and handed the nomination
to Clarke. (Clarke has been denying ever since, to anyone who will listen,
that she had anything to do with knifing Owen.)

Owen's son Chris-who, until that bit of butchery, had been a powerhouse
fundraiser for the NPA-came up with the idea of a special screening at the
Vogue theatre Oct. 16 at 100 bucks a pop. That would raise the first
$110,000 towards converting Wild's film from video to 35mm so it can be
shown in theatres, then distributed to high schools and community groups
across the country.

Last Tuesday, Chris Owen got a call from NPA Godfather J. P. Shason, the
guy who orchestrated the plot to dump his dad. J.P. told Chris that the NPA
was going to throw in $10,000-peanuts for folks with their deep pockets-to
buy 100 tickets to show support for the mayor's tribute. Chris was speechless.

The next day, Clarke's spin doctor, Norman Stowe, put out a press release
announcing what the mayor apparent and her party were up to. Those of you
who've already laid out your dough should know that Clarke and the NPA plan
to turn what was a fundraiser for a documentary and a tribute to Owen into
a Jennifer Clarke campaign event.

It's reminiscent of tactics employed by the Trotskyists in this city in the
'60s. Huge demonstrations were organized by broad-based coalitions to
protest for peace or an end to the war in Vietnam. Moments before the
masses were about to move through the streets, a handful of Trotskyists
would turn up with their banners and assume a spot at the head of the
parade. The news photos the next day made it appear as if this splinter
group of opportunists had massive support.

The 100 tickets J.P. is buying will be handed out to community groups,
Clarke says. And here's the clincher: "We're asking community leaders to
join me, and other NPA candidates in the upcoming municipal election, at
the screening." She plans to use the movie as motivation for a focus group
to get her crowd elected-"I'm looking forward to getting their reaction
when it's over"-so she can shape her policy.

When I tracked down Wild at the Toronto Film Festival and read her the news
release, she said Clarke's hijack plans were "tasteless."

Owen said what Clarke and her pals are trying to do is "awful," adding: "My
stomach started churning when I saw the wording in the press release." Owen
says Clarke makes it sound like for the past four years, all he's been
doing on his drug strategy is pushing pieces of paper around. In her
release she says: "I'm looking forward to taking it off the drawing board
and turning it into a reality."

That, says Owen, "is rather offensive." He says Clarke and the NPA has
neither understood nor supported his policy.

What Clarke does understand, though, is that her perceived opposition to
the drug strategy could cost her and the NPA the election.

That's why they're trying to buy their way to the front of someone else's
parade.