13 November 2006

Canadian and Their Bacon

I spent the weekend observing Canadians in their natural habitat. It's a lot like observing Americans, except they are quieter and they all have health insurance. Also, they unabashedly promote their feelings that Canada is in every way nicer and kinder and better than their neighbor to the south. I feel they may have a point. Much like the passive-aggressive relationship of a nice gay couple and their white trash neighbors, Canadians feel that with a little love and maybe some nice mustard or or a new shirt America would really be better off. I find find that we rarely lift our be-mulleted heads from under our Camaro hoods to notice that we have neighbors. We should pay more attention.

I'll admit it wasn't exactly a hardship tour. I spent three days drinking beer, cooking and playing board games in a cabin with our friends. Little did they know they were under the unblinking eye. In the interest of full disclosure, I must say that I am not so much an unpartial observer. Before returning to the states and our fair city, I taught The Engrish in Japan for three years. I've seen things that would make your eyes bleed, including signs that stated "Don't Shit Down Here" and "Poop in Toiret". But I digress.

The entire time I was in Japan, the whole populace, including my employers who had processed my visa and had copies of my passport, thought I was Canadian. It might have been because there were like six Americans in all of Japan, versus the thousands of Canadians. Maybe it was because I like snow. Who can know? It was at first uncanny. Then, unsettling. Finally, it became simply part of my life. I was a fake Canadian. I've become comfortable with being fake Canadian. It's comforting at times to know that if the S2 bus was hijacked by hardline Islamic fundamentalists intent on killing Americans, I could probably name enough provinces to make them let me go. But if it was fundamentalist hardline Christians, you better believe I would be the first one gunned down in the name of Christ.

It's all because those Canadians let the gays marry. And we all know where that leads: universal health care, civility-in-government, heavy underwriting of university education and bacon that is the wrong shape and texture. And America must stay the course against enlightenment if it in anyway affects our bacon.

No, really, it was nice to notice that when I held hands with the boyfriend in the supermarket, no one stared at us weird. Or actually, no one looked at us at all. Which is all I'm asking for. That and health care. Also, comprehensive welfare. I'm tired of working. Really.

Sigh. (Le sigh).


PS> To the Canadian friends: thanks for a great weekend. I never knew that Cilene's husband was named Rene. And Le Toast Francais? Delicioux. (I don't speak french. I just attach 'X' to the end of adjectives)

PPS> To the Asshat that Stole My Temporary Tag From the Brand New Car: Karma will keep you in rural New York state. You will contract rabies and have to undergo painful injections. Your hand will become inflamed in a freak Pabst Blue Ribbon accident. You will marry your sister and die in a mine fire. That is all.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

hilarioux. I like your theories, but I do have vested interests in the American Bacon industry. I'm sure we could work out a deal.

Coach said...

you know what they say.... Canadians are Americans but without the gun.

Anonymous said...

Ha ha, joke's on you! I'm already married to my sister and the mine I work in is well-protected! And now I have your temp tag.

the princess said...

My favorite comment in Japan when I told people that, no, I am not Canadian, but American: "But you're so nice!"

Thanks, friends.