Oh,
Canada...
By Maria
Espinoza
Hey,
little sister. Yeah, you. You pale and pasty
neighbors to the North. We know you hate us.
Don’t lie. You hate us. Just like all little
sisters hate their big sisters when their big sisters
are being mean and arrogant, spoiled and selfish,
tanned and beautiful. Go on and hate us. It’s
OK. But you love us, too. You can’t help
it. Sisters are that way.
We
understand your hatred. You all see us better than
we see ourselves. You have a vantage point that
we can’t take advantage of. Sitting up
there in the what we regard as a frozen wasteland
of tundra and moose and maybe a few good beers, you
must look down on us and shake your collective Canuck
heads. Those silly, arrogant Americans. They
think they are all that!
We
don’t know many of you. Sure, a handful
of hockey stars (do you play any other sports?) a
few film and television stars, and a couple of good
musical acts. Other than that, Canada is not
much to us. A great place to visit in the summer
and the country we share Niagara Falls with.
The
truth is, ya hosers, we ARE all that. And you
are lucky to be straddling our border. Why are the
few hockey greats, a handful of film and TV stars,
and a couple of musicians from your country big names? Because
they made it big in America, thankyouverymuch.
Get
used to it, little sister: you ain’t never
catchin’ us and you need to learn to deal with
your national inferiority.
We
know it hurts. We know it must seem unfair to you
how we both sprang from Mother England and yet all
the glory, power, fun, sun, sand, and surf goes to
only one of her children. We are the favored
nation. Mama’s favorite kid. But do you
know what that feels like? It’s not easy
being the one everyone looks to. We are sometimes
envious of your shadowed existence. No one is
ever on your case about anything. You can go hide
in your room while we get called on the carpet all
the time.
No
one calls on Canada to solve the Middle East problem. (OK,
we'll admit, we called on ourselves to solve that
one, and we're not doing it very well.) No one bombs
skyscrapers to the ground in your big cities. The
Center for Disease Control is not in Ottawa is it?
What about the United Nations? (We dont' pay our
dues, we know. We sort of see ourselves as exempt
from that.) It’s not easy being the big sister. We
are expected to make straight As and excel at everything. We
are expected to do all the extra-curricular stuff
and to baby-sit the world when we get home from school.
We
know you hate us. It’s always that way
with sisters. If nations were the Brady Bunch,
we are Marcia and you are Jan. Oh, Canada. We
wish we could make it better. So, have you considered
moving? A new place. A new start. If you were
on the other side of the globe, things wouldn’t
be so bad. In another hemisphere, Canada would
be a very cool place that other nations really respected
and looked up to. But you got stuck camped on our
border. We’re sorry. Quit blaming us. It’s
not our fault. OK. So, we are a little
proud and stuck-up. But have you seen our report
card? Did you hear who got elected captain of the
cheerleading squad? And Homecoming Queen? Yes. It
was us. We can’t help but be proud. Even
the name of our flag is proud; The Star Spangled
Banner.
Still,
you couldn’t ask for a nicer neighbor. We've
left you alone all these years. Imagine a rogue
nation to your South. Things wouldn’t be so
peaceful. It would’ve been no big deal to include
Northward expansion in our Westward push. We
could’ve had you years ago. (The War of 1812
doesn't count. You were really just a British territory
then. And we'll hand it to you, that burning down
of the White House stunt you pulled was one very
ballsy and memorable move. You repelled our invasions
three times. We respect you for that. It was almost
like a preview of Vietnam.) But do you ever ask yourselves
why Canada has never been invaded by hostile forces?
Well…DUH! You’ve got a big sister
no one is gonna mess with. We’ve even
got your back on the west end in that little outpost
we like to call Alaska.
We’ve
seen how you all take great pains when you are overseas
to NOT be identified as Americans. You have
those huge maple-leaf flags sewn on your backpacks
and clothing. (By the way, that is a very nice
flag. Subdued. Tasteful. It looks
good on you.) The first thing you will tell a tour
guide or a stranger you meet in Europe is that you
are NOT from America. Do you hate us that much? It’s
OK. We understand. But you love us too. You
can’t help it.
And
we love you too, little sister. We’re
glad we have a passive and friendly country on our
border. A beautiful country that for the most
part speaks the same language as us. You give
us peace and rest and we are comfortable knowing
a good friend stands so near. (Not that we can
count on you for much of anything in a fight, but
it’s still good to know you are with us most
of the time, in small numbers and with much dissension.)
We
are sisters of the Commonwealth. We just had
a rebellious streak a little stronger than yours
and left Mama’s apron strings dangling long
before you did. And we’re really sorry
if we have hurt your pride, national ego, or collective
identity. We like you. We think you’re
cool. We've embraced your exports to our country;
Moosehead, Neil Young, Jim Carrey, SCTV, William
Shatner, Cirque du Soleil, Rush, Michael J. Fox,
Mike Myers, (the telephone, penicillin and other
great things we assume we created.) You’ve
done well, little sister. Keep up the good work.
But
have you considered a few colorful stars maybe inside
the maple leaf? Just a thought.
(Editor's
note: Thanks to Daniel MacFarlane of Canada for
his input.)
Email
Maria Espinoza
See
what RFB tried to do for Canadian football here.
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