It’s fun to be a Canadian in the States. My roommate and I have laughed as we’ve heard these types of comments the past couple of weeks:
You’re from Canada, are you? It must be cold up there. (My roommate usually says yes, they run a giant snow machine at the border.) Is it true that in Canada, a pastor can be thrown in jail for saying that homosexuality is sinful? You’re our biggest trading partner? What do you export, cigarettes? Canada is just north of here? I thought it was north of Seattle. So what if George Bush thought your Prime Minister’s name is Jean Poutine? Why should we know who your Prime Minister is? (Every American has been able to tell me that Fox is the name of Mexico’s president.) Do you have Venison Slurpees? What’s with the Maple Leaf?
The two best-known Canadian icons down here continue to be Bob and Doug McKenzie. A new good friend from Portland admitted how little Americans know about Canada, and he was proud of it. One of his life goals is to never enter Canada. I’ll leave you with his version of the Canadian national anthem:
The stars are brightly shining…
Two words and then the Christmas carol O Holy Night. Ah, America.