To be the Canadian - Part 1, dreams of the big city

There are many stereotypes and mythes surrounding Canadian life. I'm writing this post today hoping I can clear up a few of those, by describing some of the events and actions I endure on a daily basis, as a Canadian. There is much to being Canadian, which is why I have titled this only part one of a series of posts to come.

I apologize if this is a bit quick. I'd like to make it longer, but my turn on Canada's Central Ontario computer is almost done. We got a colour screen last week! Everything is so vibrant! I can't believe the graphics on the new copy of PacMan we got on 5 1/4" floppy last week! But I digress.

It was the middle of August, when summer finally came. I was getting ready to move out of the winter igloo and into the summer log cabin, as I only had a week left before the igloo started to melt. I crawl out of the igloo and head towards the cabin, only to find a family of Grizzly bears have taken residence. Shit. Once a grizzly family settles in somewhere it's damn near impossible to get them out. What's worse, there's a full grown mom and pop, and three teen aged cubs.

Unfortunately, the night before I had lent my high caliber rifle to Lenny to go moose hunting in his backyard. You know Lenny from Canada right? Man, what a hoser, eh? Anyways, they are only grizzlies, it's not like I'm facing polar bears or anything. I can take a grizzly, or possibly two of the teen aged cubs, but not all five of them. No way sir! I'm not crazy!

Well, as every Canadian knows, grizzly and beaver are mortal enemies. The only way to get grizzlies to move out of a location is to make them think they have immediate competition for the space by beaver. Of course, beavers are inherently lazy animals, so you have to really force the situation. It's easy to catch beaver during the day, because they are nocturnal. So off I go to the beaver damn, poke a hole in their nest, and scoop up the lot of them.

A dozen beaver in hand, I sneak up to my log cabin kitchen window opening and throw them in. I then run like the dickens, as the mayhem inside ensues. Screaming, growling, gnashing of teeth, bangs and bumps, this goes on for 15 minutes before I see the door come flying open and the grizzly family going full tilt in one direction, followed by a dozen angry beavers. I swear, I saw one of the beavers flip the bears off before heading back to fix their broken ceiling.

As I make myself busy at the cabin cleaning up the bloody chunks of bear and poo of various sizes and messes, I find my thoughts wandering to moving. I always wanted to check out Canada's biggest city, Toronto. It's up to 500 people now, and that's enough to keep the bears away. It's not that I mind small town life, mind you, but I'm really getting sick of these stupid bears. Just yesterday I was getting ready to go to work. I come out of my igloo and what do I see? A dumb bear leaning up against the dogsled. I had to shoot the damned thing because it wouldn't move. It even took a swipe at me! At least the dogs had a good breakfast that morning.

Really though, have you ever slipped on beaver poo? Those stupid little animals leave their turds EVERYWHERE. I heard that in Toronto, the mayor hired some Inuit to train the beaver to pick up after themselves. I think. Either that or the Inuit just picked up all the beavers and left with them, I don't know. I don't really care though. Beaver are only good for scaring bears anyways, and I wouldn't need them anymore if I was living in the big city.

Speaking of which, here's a picture of our grand provincial capital.

Some people say that cities are ugly, but I disagree. I find the architecture awe inspiring! It's so straight and level, the degree of engineering is incredible! Those vibrant colours, and look! Do you see that? It's a CAR! Wow.

If I moved to Toronto I could get a desk job. I'm not quite sure what a desk job is, but I imagine it involves assembling desks. Or moving them maybe. I'm not sure really, never having seen a desk. I am told it looks something like a picnic table that's made out of metal and has something called "drawers". They make furniture out of metal in Toronto! Whole pieces of furniture! Man, it must be nice to be rich!

In Toronto, you don't have to carry a machete around with you to hack away at all the over growth to get from place to place. You don't need a compass either, because they have something there called "roads". Basically, a road is a path that's kept clear and is lined with cement. I can't imagine! Old man Smith has a cement foundation he builds his igloo around, but that's only because his dad got rich after a trip to America. In America, they have these things called "malls", that have "water fountains" in them. Apparently, Americans throw pennies into these fountains and make wishes. What a superstitious lot. Everyone knows that you have to catch a loon in a lake under a full moon for a wish to come true. Anyways, Smiths old man waded around in the fountain and came back to Canada with almost three American dollars! Talk about living the high life! Anyways, the people in Toronto must be super rich to be able to pave their streets!

I want to do all the big city things! Drive a car! Eat a burger! Drink beer out of a glass bottle (instead of a hollowed out bear skull)! Wear clothing made from something called "cloth" instead of moose pelt! See a movie on the big screen! In colour! With sound! Have sex with a woman that isn't some sort of cousin! All the good stuff!

But I know that big city life just isn't for me. I know that I'll go there, and I just won't fit in. I won't be cooth, I won't be cool, I won't be able to adapt myself to the high standards of high society. Hygene for one. I mean, they have something called a toothbrush, which means they have teeth!

I spent the summer thinking about the big city, thinking about all the things I'd never be able to see or do. All the things I'd miss out on in my life, the things that city folk get to do every day. The more I think about it, the more I realize how happy I am here. I mean, I'm my own made man. I'm responsible for the pinecones and deer liver in my gut! The skins on my back, and the roof over my head!

With the summer behind me, and my thoughts now on the happy life I'd created for myself here, I felt a smug satisfaction come over me. I no longer felt the need to turn my back on real Canadian life. With that, I went outside to start building the winter igloo. It was late September after all, and I wouldn't be able to last in the summer cabin much longer.

As I waded through the shin deep snow towards the spot where I build the igloo, I see that same bear family making their home in the remnants of last years shelter. Blast, and Lenny still has my rifle! Oh well, off to find some beavers.

Until next time,

-Canadian Spazoid