March 2010

The Importance of Personal Space

It was a sunny day, so I decided to head to the lake to see the ducks who were incidentally “quacking me up” with their hydro-plane-like take-offs and landings. I was happy to be alone.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone for long.

I know full well that I was in a public space and that I do not own the park, but I was more than a little annoyed when two young-ish women sat less than a foot away from me and began talking blathering nonsense in their exaggerated Valley Girl accents (apparently having failed to realize that the early 80’s have long since died and have yet to be resurrected), which subsequently temporarily destroyed my peace of mind.

All That's Wrong with Canada on Display Last Night

When I backpacked through Europe I noticed, one day, in a train station a Canadian flag painstakingly sewn onto the backpack of the man in front of me. This caught my attention as the ratio of Canadian flags seemed higher than any other outward showing of national pride from any other travelers. As I thought about this the ticket vendor asked if the man was American, with a hint of disgust he spit out, "Uh, no. I'm Canadian." ... "eh." Your nation is so unimportant and culturally indistinguishable that you have to publicly identify yourself as Canadian. And you get grumpy about it?

This pissed me off. Sure, your accent is a sad knock off of the American accent, your nation is known as the Fifty-first state, you share your nation with a bunch of grumpy French speaking Quebeccers... AND the Canada-centric closing ceremonies SUCKED.