Maple Syrup

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Greetings from the Rez. Looking from Bryan’s back porch across the north channel to Manitoulin, drinking my second coffee, full of pancake and maple syrup from my father in law’s spring batch, it’s hard to summon up the Righteous Indignation required for an appropriate dire post about the imminent collapse of our country. Don’t feel like thinking too hard today? Good. Let’s play something silly.

1) When do you feel MOST Canadian?

2) When do feel LEAST Canadian?

3) Is there a song that says “Canada” to you?

As always, the tragically hip and terminally sophisticated will be excused. Shall I go first?

1) When I approach Canadian customs after a trip abroad. I’m tired, grimy, stiff, usually grumpy. But as I cross the yellow line and walk up to that little glass cubicle in Toronto or Vancouver or Montreal, I know the person reaching out out for my passport will speak my language, get my jokes, know where Ottawa is, and stereotype me in a good way. I feel home.

2) During NHL playoffs. I find myself immersed in a foreign culture whose language, history, and passions are completely foreign to me, and I sense a vague hostility from the natives.

3) This new take on that old chestnut, “The Maple Leaf Forever”. What used to be a fine specimen of Canadian Jingoism (“Wolfe the dauntless hero came and planted firm Britannia’s flag, etc.) is redeemed by Finest Kind, Canada’s finest traditional vocal ensemble.

And you?

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This page contains a single entry by Balbulican published on July 1, 2013 11:24 AM.

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