B.I.L.F.- Galen Weston, Jr.

Galen G. Weston answers delegate questions
Originally uploaded by Ontario Chamber of Commerce

Before I begin, I would like to point out that the 'B' in B.I.L.F. stands for 'Brain', not billionaire. I keep getting questions about this from readers and wanted to clear that up before the newest installment. Everyone good? Okay, great, let's get on with it...

There's something about Galen, non?

Admittedly, I have a thing for nerd types, and always have. When I was in grade 12, I had a platonic crush on this beautiful boy with the most perfect skin in the world. He was like a hot male porcelain doll. What?! I know it's weird, but I'm serious. He was this lovely, well-dressed, articulate, sweet, smart person who was just so not homefries. Of course he wore glasses, of course he had a "hair-do" that required gel and patience in the late grunge era when most people were still rolling out of bed and throwing on a flannel shirt and, unlike 90 per cent of boys my age, he had class and believed in chivalry. In my 17 year old opinion, he was pretty damn near perfect husband material, which is exactly the kind of thing you don't appreciate for another ten years or so when you start looking for a man with good genes instead of just a boy with good jeans (most of my girlfriends wanted guys who met the criteria: poor, dirty and can rock). Anyway, homeboy was all kinds of awesome with a metrosexual edge. I guess you could say that he was my original B.I.L.F.

Don't worry, I'm getting to my point: Galen Weston is that guy's less cool, yet much wealthier and media saavy, counterpart. This is hugely significant, particularly from a marketing P.O.V.

The Canadian Encyclopedia had this to say on G:

He prepped for the corporate role he was born to play, earning a B.A. from Harvard and an M.B.A. from Columbia. Known to share his father's flair on the polo field and his people skills, it's unclear yet whether Weston has inherited pater's mercantile touch or knack for spotting talent. He has told friends he has grown to enjoy business, particularly during his stint at President's Choice banking services. Certainly there is little evidence he is conflicted about his destiny. By all reports, he's an impeccably decent guy, with lovely manners and zero social pretension. He dislikes being called Galen Weston Jr., preferring GG or G2, his family nickname (Galen Sr. is G1). Like his famously private father, he avoids media scrutiny, declining a request for interview. When his artfully raw industrial loft in a grungy Toronto neighbourhood was photographed for Toronto Life magazine in 2001, its resident was referred to obliquely as "The Bachelor."

Um, Harvard? Zero social pretension? Corny nickname? RAW INDUSTRIAL LOFT?

Swoon.

And, oh, does he ever have that "mercantile touch". Having inherited, at the tender age of 33, the reins to the empire founded by his great-grandfather in the late 19th century, G2 has managed to take a tired, decidedly uncool brand and thoroughly revitalize it. By 2006, Loblaws (the parent company of President's Choice Brand) had become something of a punch line, having fallen quite a way from the glory days of Galen' s father, who had achieved a major image overhaul of the company in the 1970's. In only four short years, that reality has been turned completely around by new brand Joe Fresh and ambitious "green" initiatives that have turned Superstore into a preferred shopping spot of the trend-loving yet thrifty Gen-X/Y demographic. Recyclable fabric shopping bags? Yes please! IKEA Doppelganger furniture for a fraction of the price? But of course! GAP- quality polo shirts for seven dollars? HELL TO THE YES, GALEN!

And let's be real here- I know I am not the only one who has gotten a serious case of the warm fuzzies while watching the new commercials featuring adorable, sheepish Galen engaging in various down to earth activities with the humble farmers and fisherman that supply the reasonably priced products that stock the shelves of his no-frills grocery stores. Doesn't he remind you of that cute, non-threatening, well brought up boy you used to go to school with? Don't you want to tousle his geeky almost-mullet?

MMMhmm, this B.I.L.F. knows how to capitalize on image. He's done his homework and he's working the weak spots of Canadians A Mari Usque Ad Mare.

I am picking up what he is throwing down. Are you?

B.I.L.F.- Dr. Mehmet Oz

Photo Originally uploaded by David Berkowitz

I have what you might call a bad case of White Coat Syndrome. That means that any time I am near a medical professional, I want to run screaming from the building. I mean, let's be honest here, where else do you go but a doctor's office to put on a paper dress backwards and then have a near-stranger ask banal questions about your life while they speak directly into your crotch? Yeah, almost nowhere. Exactly.

Don't get me wrong; I respect the work that doctors do. I can't imagine what it must be like to have to pinpoint what is ailing a person while they anxiously relate a laundry list of obscure symptoms. Even more difficult, I think, must be to retain empathy and, especially, a sense of humour.

Meet Dr. Mehmet Oz, a Harvard educated cardiologist, author, and humanitarian  who happens to manage to do both of those things while acting as Oprah Winfrey's personal physician, which, btw, is the modern day equivalent of the guy from the Tudor court who had the prestigious job of collecting the king's poo everyday. I mean that in a good way.

ANYWAY...

He is not your typical pill-pushing MD. He strongly supports energy-based therapies, such as acupuncture, yoga and meditation; he studies "blue zones", geographical areas where residents have higher life expectancies than developed countries and he serves on the Board of Trustees for One Voice Movement to promote healthier dialogue between moderate Israelis and Palestinians.

 Intelligent, open-minded and selfless?

*Sigh* Love him.

Have you ever seen him on Oprah? He approaches even the most disgusting things with such a happy-go-lucky attitude that he could almost be the biology professor you had a crush on back in Uni. And while he is somewhat simian, I can't help but be turned on by the way he can take a dismal medical prognosis and make it seem like someone has just handed you your VERY OWN UNICORN. 

I want to put him in my pocket and carry him around for those days when I need to be talked out of laying on the floor and eating cheese. Don't you?

B.I.L.F.- Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen em Benicassim, Espanha
Originally uploaded by maccosta

I would hit it.

I don't care that he's 74. I don't care if he's all loose skin and old balls. To this day, I would hit it and make no apologies. Because Leonard Cohen possesses the kind of rare brilliance that makes any other man, young or old, seem like a drooling troll in comparison.

I discovered Leonard for myself when I was 14. My Dad had been insisting that "the man is a national f*cking treasure!" for years, but I wasn't having it. Here was the problem: I heard him sing before I read his poetry. Big mistake. He is not a gifted singer, and that is the biggest understatement since Batface Nicole Kidman admitted to getting "a little botox".

Anyway, it was my good fortune that my angsty friend Mike gave me a volume of Cohen poetry to read and...oh God. That was it. It was the beginning of a beautiful obsession that has outlasted all of my fleeting culturelust phases.

Nobody has a way with words like L.C. He can take an act that would make you punch a guy in the mouth for even hinting at in bed and make it sound like the purest and most obvious next step on the path to spiritual self-discovery. Pretty suave for a Jewish boy from Montreal, non?

In addition to all this, he is perhaps one of the most interesting men in the world; he has lived everywhere (including a Zen monastery), done all kinds of unseemly and seemly things with vagabonds, royalty and the everyman and documented it all with the most raw and powerful emotional force you can imagine. If you think I'm laying it on a little thick, try reading his novel "Beautiful Losers", then we'll talk.

Here's a short example of what I'm going on about:

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

Leonard, if you're reading this, come find me.

B.I.L.F.- Michael Ignatieff

Photo originally uploaded by kyle.mcmartin.ca

Iggy, Iggy, Iggy, can't you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me, and I just love your neo-Trudeauian ways, that's why Harper is a douche and you're so paid.

Okay, I'm not the most adept lyricist, but I did manage to blend Biggie and Canadian politics. Commendable, no?

Anyway, Mikey Ignatieff's medulla oblongata has been giving me the squirmies since I had to start reading his papers as a Political Science undergrad. I remember sitting in the bathtub, coursepack in one hand, loofah in the other, thinking " This guy must be sexy in person. He's probably super arrogant and I bet he smiles condescendingly to people who try to counter his theses." I like those traits in my never-before-seen, unattainable intellectual crushes. Seriously, though, HOW F*UCKING RIGHT WAS I? Have you ever seen the Ignatieff smirk? I was basically dead on.

Iggy spends his days antagonizing the dough-faced, rosy-cheeked sweatervest lover currently serving as Prime Minister by publicly scoffing at his bills, rolling his eyes disdainfully at his attempts to undermine the Liberals and waving his hand dismissively at Harper's lame justifications for his own political existence.

So. Hot.

Yeah, so he's a little Ivan the Terrible, what with that furry brow and overpowering schnauz. But he's also a Harvard professor, renowned author and internationally respected intellectual. In my opinion, he is a commanding orator and a social visionary.

Whew. I have to stop before I start hyperventilating.

If you haven't read any of his writing, try his new book "True Patriot Love", it's brain porn.

B.I.L.F.

kevin newman Originally uploaded by Robert Scales

Yeah, it is what you’re thinking. This is the first installment of “ Brain I’d like to F*ck”, a series celebrating intelligent men who, while not the hottest physical specimens, are cerebrally sexy.

First up, allow me the pleasure of introducing Kevin Newman, Global National’s very first anchor, executive editor and host of Global Currents.

He looks like a little package just waiting to be ripped open in that suit and tie, n’est- ce pas?

My one-sided love affair with Kevin began on the first day of the U.S. invasion of Iraq. I was watching the news, outraged at what was going on, and then suddenly, without warning, it happened...my ears stopped hearing what he was saying and my eyes started stalking his ring finger.

As you are all probably well aware, most news anchors don’t hold their hands up in the air during broadcast, and it took THREE WEEKS before I spotted the hateful little gold band. It didn’t stop me from watching, though, because by then I was hooked. Yes, he’s short and has an unsettlingly square head, but you know what? Kevin Newman is damn good at what he does. He’s been in the business a long time, he’s serious about his subject matter, his comments are intelligent and he is a fantastic interviewer. Speaking to this is the fact that he has won two Gemini Awards for Best Newscaster.

Okay, so he’s not Bradley Cooper hot, but his brain does it for me and I love, love, love the whole old-school Walter Cronkite Air of Authority/ Honour Roll Geek thing he’s rocking.
What do you think?