You've been ... Dunderstruck

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What's Kathy Dunderdale really like?

This past week, I've been asked that more than "How are you?"

People are curious about Kathy these days. And since I spent the election campaign's homestretch riding the big blue bus, family, friends and readers think I'm a PC Insider (apologies to Dominion).

But it's tough for me to answer questions about the premier in any detail.

The only label I want as a reporter is "fair" (although "booty-licious" would be nice, too).

Say good things, and I'm promoting Tory Glory. Or I've been - please cue your AC/DC voice and scream - "Dunderstruck ... Yeah yeah yeah, Dunderstruck."

Be negative, and I'm a Liberal, New Democrat, or editorial writer.

So, here's my fair, reporter-like answer to the question about what she's like: Kathy Dunderdale is a female politician.

OK. OK. OK. No need to get nasty.

I know, you're demanding dirt on Dunderdale!

Hmmm ... what can I tell you and remain neutral? Well, I'm just reporting the facts by telling you Dunderdale played Ozzy Osbourne's "I Don't Want to Stop" after one long afternoon on the bus. (I will say she showed a more diverse taste in music than Liberal Leader Kevin "Let's Go Higher" Aylward.)

Big flippin' whoop, you say. We want TMZ-type stuff.

OK, Dunderdale partied with Lindsay Lohan until 3:03 a.m. at the Flyer's Club in Gander ... OK, that's not true, sadly. Would have been fun to cover.

Oh, all right. I'll dish. I'm being Mr. Actual Factual by informing you that, at one point, the premier was about to speak to reporters and jokingly asked me how her hair looked.

"A lot better than mine," I replied.

That still didn't satisfy your Kathy craving, did it? You want me to spill the beans.

Good enough, then. You want something tastier, I'll give you something tastier. It's the tooth, and nothing but the sweet tooth: many people on Dunderdale's election team were addicted to sugar.

Bet you're going "Ooooooh" now.

Yup, there was this basket of candy bars on the bus that would magically replenish itself daily (I've long searched for a beer fridge that does the same).

And, at a restaurant in Triton, one of Dunderdale's people bought 6,237 trays of homemade cookies.

To her credit, I never saw the premier eating much of the junk.

Wish I could say the same. I avoided the temptation of the candy bars, except for some Rolos, but those cookies - which included these chocolate-dipped pink wafers - were simply irresistible. I ate 6,236 of the cookie trays. If you think that compromised my objectivity, you should see what it did to my blood sugar.

But you don't care about that. You're still looking for gossip.

Truth be known, I don't have any.

For the most part, Dunderdale kept to the front or back of the bus, while the media, perhaps fittingly, stayed near workstations in the centre.

The premier would chat with us. She was always friendly, polite, good-humoured and accommodating, the same as Aylward was on the Liberal bus and as NDP Leader Lorraine Michael is whenever I deal with her.

What Dunderdale is really like is a question she'll answer for us all over the next four years.

I've told you what I know, unless you want to send an envelope containing 1,000 unmarked $100s.

Steve Bartlett can be full of gerbil droppings, but you can reach him at sbartlett@thetelegram.com or follow him on Twitter at @bartlett_steve.

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