As my Canadian newspapers arrive a week late in London, I have only just caught up with a story that continues to trouble me. It concerns a CBC producer in Vancouver, obviously an admirer of feminine beauty, who has been traduced by his politically correct employers for being complimentary, albeit in the vernacular, about the physical appearance of Stockwell Day's daughter-in-law, which he adjudged pleasing. Apparently under the mistaken impression that his TV mike was dead, he was heard by viewers to celebrate the prowess of Logan Day's wife. "I never met her," he said, "but apparently she's got tits that would stop a ----," which is as far as he got before a technician cut him off.

This tantalizingly incomplete sentence kept me awake for several nights. Twisting and turning in bed, I wondered: Tits that would stop what? An uprising by Quebec separatists? Another ice storm? A Chrétien landslide in Ontario? Then, happily, an impeccable source of mine, rooted deep within the bowels of the CBC, assured me that it was "tits that would stop a train."

Of course this observation would not count as a compliment in England, where it is commonplace for the trains to stop, or even be derailed, several times a day without sexual provocation. Where journeys scheduled for two hours can take five or six and, in one infamous case, nine hours. Commuters are seething. There are demands from so-called "old labour" supporters to re-nationalize the railways, while free marketeers protest that the situation was far worse when the railways were nationalized. Compounding the plight of travellers, an official has said it will be 20 years before the trains will run on time.

Anyway, it seems Stockwell Day was offended by this reference to his daughter-in-law, now six months preggers. This amazed me, because although I knew Day considered homosexuality an abomination, I took it he clapped hands for heterosexual appetite. Furthermore, being a student of the Bible, he is surely aware that tits are celebrated in Song of Solomon, as in, "Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins," or, "A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts."

The loudest of Alliance MPs, Deborah Grey, who qualifies as the Official Opposition's response to Sheila Copps, was also heard from. Obviously jealous of the sanctity of her own bosom, she said, "I want to know who this guy is. I don't want him hooking up my mike on my blazer at the CBC."

To digress briefly, this put me in mind of a bon mot by the once best-selling author Jacqueline Susann. Scheduled to appear on a TV talk show with Philip Roth shortly after he had published Portnoy's Complaint, which could be understood as an ode to masturbation, she said, "I wouldn't want to shake hands with him."

Then there is the case of Stockwell Day's fetching daughter-in-law, Juliana Thiessen Day. Sadly, she was not flattered. "I was so embarrassed, I covered my face," she said, although her face was not the attribute at issue. "I feel bad that all of B.C. heard that about me. I feel now like everyone has read the story and everyone is looking at me. I feel I should be wearing baggy clothes."

I'm afraid I found this unconvincing from a young woman who did in fact once invite not only everyone to look at, but also to admire, her figure, when, in 1998, she was a contestant in the Canadian Search for Miss Universe, winning the title.

Furthermore, assuming her nifty breasts are nature's gift, she should be proud to be so endowed in an era when so many thousands of ill-advised women fork out big bucks to have their tits enhanced by surgery. However, the fair Juliana was redeemed by compassion, having recently said she was glad the CBC producer, his name still unknown, was merely reprimanded for his indiscretion. "I cannot bear to think of the man losing his job," she said, "and especially at this time of year, right before Christmas."

Alas, the easily intimidated CBC did not behave nearly as well. Instead of celebrating a refreshing change from their usual bland commentary, they suspended that horny producer for 10 days without pay, as well as sentencing him to something called sensitivity training, whatever that is.

"The CBC is profoundly sorry that this incident happened," said the network's Ruth-Ellen Soles.

The equally humourless Canadian Media Guild has reserved the right to challenge the producer's suspension, possibly filing a grievance. My own reservations have to do with accuracy, which we are entitled to expect from the CBC. This can only be settled if Juliana is willing to put the producer's claim to a test, posing alongside the track as a Toronto-bound express gathers speed pulling out of Montreal. Certainly such an experiment would make for a much-needed ratings bonanza for the people's network.

Oh dear. While we wait on events, I weep for Canada. Surely what should have passed as one day's welcome giggle, Juliana Thiessen Day responding with a quip, has been inflated beyond reason. Most culpable of all in this kerfuffle is that quick-to-pounce Deborah Grey. "I'm a little surprised," she said, "-- 10 days and sensitivity training?"

Would she rather the producer were flogged or hanged?