Oh, Canada, Why, Canada?
By Mike Marino
Oh, Canada! More to the point, why Canada? Why the fuss? Who are these beer and moose lovers? What do they want from us...mere mortal Americans? My family has deep roots in the fertilized Canadian soils, and yes, I do own sweaters. A lot of them, and shirts too that are plaid and proud. My family's Canuck ancestry goes back to the beaver pelt laden 1700's, before the first dribble from the leaky family faucet migrated like Canadian geese across the bi-national line of demarcation in 1875. I was raised in Detroit, Michigan, (The Rustbelt version Oz) and anyone who enjoys the sun, fun and snow in the Great Lakes kingdom, sharing the border with Canada feels the warm and fuzzy Canadian karma that races down from up north like the winter winds of the locomotive locomotion bi-polar express.
So to answer the question...Why Canada? Hell, that's an easy one. Ice cold Canadian beer and warm, fuzzy Canadian beaver! While the rest of the world yells, "Screw You, America," the strongest epithet tossed at the Canadians seems to be, "Go Fuck a Canuck," ...a much more pleasing visual and physical experience then getting fucked ourselves, don't you think?
Why Canada? It's not James Bonds' Monte Carlo, where he would be seen at the baccarat tables smoking Turkish cigs or drinking a shaken not stirred martini. Nor is it where the "beautiful people" go for the season when they plan a vacation. The dialogue usually follows a path along the lines of..."Lets winter in the Caribbean" or "Muffy and Ben say Italia is nice this time of year," or "France has wines to die for, and besides, we simply must do Paris in the Spring," Never have I, nor probably you, heard anyone (beautiful person or not) plan a vacation with the words..."I hear Manitoba rocks!" or "Saskatchewan is sexy!" or "Ontario is Orgasmic!"
Yes, Canada has unpronounceably named provinces, but worse, as you unfold a map of Canada it reveals a large tract of geography, composed of lazy, lethargic row upon row of provincial and parochial rectangles, strategically and mysteriously aligned by ancient aliens in near mystical east-west progression. A veritable Stonehenge of provinces and more frightening than crop circles created by a three-headed maritime Medusan Martian Moose from the planet New Brunswick.
The provinces do look alike, Xeroxed, hard to differentiate one from another, as was the False Maria in the dark, moody Fritz Lang "Metropolis." Except for Nova Scotia and Newfoundland hanging loose in the Atlantic trying desperately to escape to Greenland on their own. The rest of them however, are neat and austere, molded into tight formations, a rigid police line up for felonious provinces. "That's the one. Yeah, Alberta, that’s the province I saw running out of the store with a gun. He had a limp too, kind of a goofy hopping action, but, yeah, that’s the one. Alberta. I'd recognize that province anywhere."
American states are shaped for the most part with a sense of humor, except for our own Bermuda Triangle of Rectangles of the Three Stooges of Agriculture...Kansas, Iowa and Nebraska. Now, take Michigan. An imperfectly shaped mutation of a human right hand, probably belonging to a Thalidomide baby, facing outward and is used by randy Michiganders as a portable flesh and bones Rand McNally map to help others from say, Wyoming, know where Michiganians are from..."Yeah, born right there in Mackinac City" as they point out the tip of the finger mostly used for flipping off other drivers in urban areas everywhere. Then the person who says..."And over here, is the Thumb"...duh! It’s a fun game anyone can play. Hold your hand up and see if you can find Detroit. See, piece of cake.
Now, Florida. The only state shaped like a body part used in fornication or the much more private practice of masturbation. Yes, it is a familiar male body part. A penis, to be exact, that has prematurely ejaculated, emptied itself into the waiting vagina of Havana due south of it's aim, hanging limp now and scaring the hell out of Cuba because they know what will happen to her should Florida get horny again...this is where Michigan’s hand comes into play, or self foreplay in this case. They don't call it Jack-sonville for nothing. Try that Canada, just try, I dare you to get Manitoba to masturbate. It can't be done.
Why Canada? Name one Canadian that pops to the fore except for the herd of Canadian comedians that have migrated from Toronto, or Alex Trebeck and Michael J. Fox. Name a political leader? Who is the father of his country in Canada. The United States. Ok, so we were raised here and should know aout George Washington, but we also have heard of Ghandi in India, Ho Chi Minh of Vietnam, Napoleon in France, Mao in China, Queen Elizabeth in England, Crocodile Dundee from downunda, (Ok, so he's not real) and Pancho Villa of Mexico. The only non-show-biz Canadian that comes to mind to me is Margaret Trudeau, the former prime ministers wife who spread her Trudeaudian thighs wide to Maggie bang a Rolling Stone while she was still first lady of the realm and hubby Pierre was still drinking Perrier prior to parliamentary procedure and being cuckolded Canuck style.
Why Canadian? or Why Canadien? One half of my family is French Canadien, until the 1800's when they copulated cross culturally with the bloody bulldog redcoat Brit side of the Commonwealth coin and created a new species of bi-lingual Canadian...half English, half French, but all Canadian. There is a secession movement, of course amongst the French factions in Quebec or K'beck as it is pronounced (K'eh? Beck) just as there are Basque separatists in Spain. Hell, we had a civil war in this country so not everybody is always happy with the status quo, non?
What about this "eh" thing? It means so many things to so many people, Canadians, but perplexing to the rest of the English speaking world. It also can be used in the official spelling of the country...C-eh-N-eh-D-eh....eh? See what I mean. Eh is also one of those vocabulary anomalies that has multiple linguistic meanings. It could mean when used as it is at the end of sentence..."See what I mean" or "Don't you agree" or "No, that’s wrong." It can also be used as "wow" was in the Sixties a stand alone. It's a very similar word to "fugettaboutit" used by American Mafioso types as explained by Johnny Depp in the film "Donnie Brasco." He explains that it means..."I agree" or "Man that Caddy is a fine machine" or "Do I look worried." So if you run into a Canadian Mafioso, literally, excuse yourself politely and they will turn and look at you and say, "fuggetabout, eh."
Don't forget "oot" and "aboot". Growing up in Detroit (Day'twa for the uninitiated) I did pick up the accent and when I moved to California to do morning rock and roll radio, I was accused of being from Canada. Accused maybe to strong of a word, but the perception was that I was Canadian, which is not a bad thing by any stretch of anyone’s imagination. I was just surprised that the accent stuck out, not embarrassed, but surprised, pleasantly in retrospect.
Canadians, like their counterparts without sweaters south of the Rio Grande, also flock to America in numbers. No, not numbers as large as the Mexicans who make a mad dash into the tidal pool of tired, hungry, and poor wretched refuse. No exact Canadian numbers can be calculated but the estimated lower numbers is based on the fact that if you go down the food aisle of WalMart not one of them is labeled "Canadian Food", nor is it packed with pregnant Canadians with one in the oven and five in tow.
Which brings up another aspect. Canadian cuisine. Usually in a conversation when deciding where to dine during the evening it's usually discussed and decided by choosing a Chinese restaurant, or for the Yuppie wannabe, "Let's do Thai" or "Have you tried that new French restaurant?" Search your soul and be absolutely honest with us and yourself...how many times have you ever suggested to another..."Lets try that new Canadian restaurant that opened last week. I hear the waitresses wear plaid skirts and Elmer Fudd hunting hats and the cook carries a shotgun at all times." Well...have you, eh?
In Detroit though we did have Canadian radio and Canadian TV, yes, there is such a thing. Ask any old time Detroiter about CKLW or CJOM radio and they'll wax nostalgic about rock n' roll, Ron Legg and Ted the Bear Richards for hours. Not to mention cartoons on the telly with Capt. Jolly and Poopdeck Paul.
More Americans have probably crossed north of the border into the benevolent bosom of the commonwealth, seeking escape from the draft during the Sixties and the vacuum of Vietnam. Whole communities since have sprung up there, with these exiles still expat'd and who have since mingled, intermarried and intercoursed with the fine stock and supply of Canadian women to propagate babies with questionable American genes.
Why Canada? Myths and mythters. Big Foot sightings plague the American Northwest of Oregon and Washington where paranoia is a national past time anyway. Too much time in the woods alone on unemployment is the causation of this fixation. Notice how many people have seen Big Foot when looking for it, but no one ever thought to bring a camera along or gun. Ok, there is one bad old hoax film from the Sixties that exists, but, remember we were living in the days of Holy Hallucination as it was.
Both Washington and Oregon have a real hard on for reality it seems. Reality is castrated for all intents and purposes known only to them, and both states exist in a state of mind of their own creation. Big Foot, was not conceived in the far out furry forests of Washington. He is Sasquatch, conceived as an imaginative Canadian creature created to fill the Gap of Mythology. Indians north of the border no doubt came up with the vision first after smoking a few bowls. Canadians also gave us the plaid and proud, ravager of forests big and small, a man named Bunyan, first name Paul.
French Canadien is the rumour,too as I understand it. Bunch of lumber jack types sitting around the fire dreaming up this Hulk Hogan of loggers, and even gave him a blue ox named Babe to cavort with, however one would cavort with a blue ox. Michigan has numerous Paul and Babe statues along the tourist routes. One, on US 23 south of Alpena on Lake Huron, is a big blue ox that had it's concrete balls shot off by local drunks at a VFW years back, proving that Babe must have been a guy ox. The Babe still stands proud, even though the balls have never been replaced. You can pull into the small parking lot to take photos too, so if you ever pass this monument to the axmen, pull into the parking lot, grab a camera and go stand under Babe...look up between it's hind legs and you'll have proof to show others. Some blue job, eh?
Why Canada? When you hear the American National Anthem you picture someone standing in the Oval Office pretending to be the most powerful person on the planet. Hear the strains of the Marseilles and you think of the French underground standing up to Nazi occupation and Ingrid Bergman kissing Bogie in Casablanca. Hear the first strains of the Canadian anthem, Oh Canada..and badda bing, badda boom your either at a hockey game in Ottawa or a curling match in Windsor.
Why Canada? Why not Canada. As a neighbor they are a formidable foe...for example, we duked it out twice with them, once in 1775 and again in 1812. Both times they beat us back and kicked our ass at one point occupying Fort Detroit. Today, Fort Wayne still stands on the shores of the Detroit River on the Detroit side, ready, just in case those pesky rum runners decide to run more whiskey across the river as they did during prohibition with the help of the Purple Gang, or Capone’s Navy as they were called.
The biggest warning Detroit has to thwart any thought or attempt at an attack from Windsor on our non-socialist democracatic shores was the placement of a mega-ton black, bronze fist of Joe Louis in front of city hall at the corner of Woodward and Jefferson Avenues. The fist is locked and loaded, clenched and the knuckles are appropriately facing Canada as a heavyweight knockout warning against any such attempt to assail the unassailable.
Why Canada? Cannabis of course. Medical marijuana is as common as methamphetamine in Missouri, bad wines in Washington or crack cocaine in the nation’s capital, but without the nasty side effects. Once kick ass grass is legal all around, it won’t take long for Vancouver to replace Amsterdam on the Reefer Richter Scale but don't expect the marijuana leaf to replace the Maple Leaf on the Canadian flag anytime soon.
Canadians are also hysterical over gay marriage, and people’s rights. The Indians or Inuits as they are called are now self governing, as Canada has created a new territory just for that purpose, for the Inuit, by the Inuit and of the Inuit, called Nunavut...Unlike the United States with reservations designed to confine. The American reservations systems were carefully plotted and laid out across the country for the sole purpose of having a geographically distributed and strategically placed locations for casinos. Although the Native American hates with a pent up passion is Andrew Jackson, although they will willingly accept all the $20 bills you can through at them. So how is the reservation system of America viewed in Canada? The Inuit are having nonuvit.
Why Canada? Again, why not Canada. If ever a land be called in honesty, the land of the free, it's the marvelous Maple Leafers who should get the reward. Besides they have the coldest beer and the warmest beaver on the planet...so grab a Molson and go fuck a Canuck.
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Mike Marino - Pop Culture Dumpster Diver
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