The True North Strong and Not so Free...

Ah Canada Day. The long weekend is almost upon us. A weekend to celebrate the birth of our nation, (or rather it's half-assed attempt at distinguishing itself from the British Empire, which may or may not have happened lo these many years hence), by drinking lots of beer and gazing at campfires and guiltily eating lots of hotdogs. Some will go away for the weekend, some will go to concerts, like the Concert on the Hill in Halifax to see the likes of Daughtry, an American Idol not-winner. Has anyone heard from the chick who did win though? Didn't think so.

Yes, Canada Day is the one time of year when all Canadians seem united under the umbrella of nationalism, whereas the other 364 days seem quite schizo as to what constitutes Canadian identity. If you tune into CBC Radio One on any given week you'll undoubtedly hear the mumblings and grumblings and the hemmings and the hawings of what makes us 'Canadian'. No one seems to have come up with a decent answer so far. All that is agreed upon is that whatever makes us Canadian is either archaic, pedestrian, non-inclusive or just plain not good enough. Take the national anthem for example. I just happened to be listening to CBC radio the other day in the car while I was waiting for the constable to get his beer (while wearing his beaver pelt and lumberjack shirt and saying 'eh' a lot). Granted, I wasn't listening very carefully, but the gist of the conversation is that 'O Canada', so the one guy was saying, is perhaps out of date and we should look at alternatives for replacement. While I won't go into the whole history of the anthem, (for those of you who are dying to know, Wiki it) 'O Canada' has only been officially our anthem since, like, 1980. The English lyrics that are most widely used and accepted were written in 1908. The rest of the story is as schizo as Canadian identity itself.

The only other thing that Canadians seem to be able to agree on when it comes to self identity is that we are 'not American'. Make of that what you will. As this Canada Day approaches however, and as my heart swells with patriotic pride for my 'home and native land', I have a bit of a bone to pick with Canada about not 'being American'. I'll sum it up in a little bit of a parable so as to enhance your enjoyment.

Once upon a time there were two little girls, CANdy and UrSulA, who lived next door to one another. CANdy and UrSulA got along pretty well most of the time. Candy liked to go over to Ursulas house and watch Mr. Rogers Neighbourhood and Celebrity Fit Club and Ursula liked to get her prescription drugs at half price over at Candys place. Candys parents had no problem with her playing over in Ursulas yard, and for the longest time, it was vice versa. But then one day Ursula's parents decided that as of 2008, Candy would need a passport to come over and play.

Things went happily along with Ursula enjoying how quaint and polite Candys family was while Candy got a real kick out of how Ursulas family made such a big deal out of their distant relatives, Paris and Lindsay. The two families generally enjoyed a mutually exclusive relationship. Well, there was that one time that Ursulas parents wanted to make a tree fort out of some lumber they bought from Candys family...but we won't go into that now.

Then one day, purely out of the blue, things went sour. Candy was at home looking through one of Ursulas glossy periodicals and happened upon this:


A sailboat mould popsicle maker thingy. Candy was overcome with the need to posess this precious item. It appealed to her love of all things nautical and her equal affection for all things slightly ridiculous. Candy immediately jumped up and ran over to Ursulas window to show her the new found treasure.

"Oh yeah" Ursula said, in a casual tone, "I have one of those."
"You do?!" Candy replied in wide-eyed disbelief.
"Sure. I'll sell it to you if you want."
"Really?!"
"Yeah, why not. But it'll cost you $15.95. And that's in UrSula Dollars."
"UrSula Dollars? What does that mean?"
"Well, for every CANdy dollar that you give me, it only equals 0.924322 UrSula Dollars. That's the exchange rate I'm going with today at least. That's just how I roll."
CANdy stood there for a moment just staring at UrSulA, trying to make it look like she could do the conversion in her head.

"Well..." Candy hesitated "that doesn't sound too bad I guess. Does the sailboat mould popsicle maker thingy come with a recipe book on how to make all kinds of yummy sailboat popsicles?"

"Sure does" replied Ursula.

"Well okay then!" Candy said triumphantly. "But, if I give you $15.95 UrSula Dollars for the popsicle maker, could you at least bring it over to my house for me?"

"Absolutely!" Ursula said with a sly smile. "That'll be another $20.33 UrSula Dollars for shipping."

"What??!" Candy said incredulously. "That's ridiculous! Why, it'll cost more for you to bring it to me that it will to buy the damn thing." Candy hoped that her parents hadn't heard her swear.

"Oh yeah, and you might have to pay duty and taxes on it too. You might want to check with Old Man Customs as I'll have to go through his yard to bring it to you."

Candy sat down and pouted for a moment as she tried to come up with a vague figure for how much this stupid sailboat popsicle maker thingy was really going to cost when all was said and done. It was a difficult task for her childlike brain which, let's face it, wasn't really good with numbers.

Ursula finally broke the silence. "What's it gonna be kid?"

With a heavy heart, Candy looked at Ursula and said, "I don't think I want to buy it right now. I'm going to have to think about it for a while. Can I at least keep the magazine with the picture of the sailboat popsicle maker thingy in it?"

Ursula felt a little sorry for Candy. She was so...so...colonial. "Sure kid" she said, "consider it yours."

Candy turned to go back to her house with the head hung low and her feet dragging on the pavement. When she entered her house, her parents turned to look from where they were sitting watching Coronation Street (followed by The Nature of Things with David Suzuki), eating Smarties and drinking Canada Dry Ginger Ale .

"What's the matter sweetheart?" her parents inquired.

"Oh nothing. I just wanted to buy something from UrSulA but it's going to be too expensive when you factor in the UrSula Dollars and the shipping."

"Why do you need fancy stuff from Ursula when you've got free socialized health care and the GST has been lowered by 1% right here?" Candys father asked.

When Candys father turned back towards the television, Candy gave him a look that indicated just how much respect she had for him (which to be clear, was very little).

"Yeah, that last 12 hour wait in the emergency department only to be sent home with some Tylenol and a bleeding ulcer was real worth it Dad" she mumbled on her way to her bedroom.

Once there, she consoled herself with some maple syrup under her Hudson Bay blanket while she thumbed her way through Ursulas magazine, again and again, until the pages were dogeared and worn, dreaming of all the sailboat popsicles that might have been.

The End.

Epilogue: Last night I saw a preview of a Canada Day special on CBC. "A Concert for Diana" (yes, HRH herself, the Princess of Wales) will be airing July 1 for all you die hard Royalists out there. Looks as though we aren't alone in making a big fuss over distant relatives.