Reason, ruin, republic

Traveling through the states in May 2015 in an aging campervan exposed us to many sides of America. Many generous, gracious and open minded people. But the dark side of America is never far; billboards pleading for money to send needy American children to hospital, warnings to stay out of certain parts of town after dark, an immigration paramilitary running check stops well north of the Rio Grande, the mad mad world of the right wing AM radio.

Of all the visitors to the US, Canadians have an advantage. With just a few gentle corrections to how we pronounce some words (out and about!) and a dash of self restraint in the use of others (no way, eh?) we can quite easily pass in America as Americans. Vaguely Vermont, or is it the West coast?

And it gets better. To them we are just fellow Americans but there is this one odd thing. They just can’t seem to pin us down; which post is our political horse hitched to? Canadians can actually see the disorientation happening. It results from the missing code words, inflections and body language that Yanks use to transmit their ideological allegiances.  Canadian English, when spoken in America is almost void of these subtle social clues. We might as well be wearing lab coats. On the surface we seem to be American, probably from some blue state. But underneath is a winter whiteout. Can’t tell if we are pro Obama or not, born-again or libertarian, drive a Porsche or a pickup, went to Berkeley or Talladega, support the NRA or ALCU (and on and on and on!). We are stone cold, no emissions, clear as ice.

Much to their credit, and unlike their portrayal in the cowboy movies, the Yanks typically assume the best of a stranger and proceed over a beer or coffee to tell you anything you might care to ask about their lives. Thus a traveling Canadian with an open ear has a ticket to theater America, the biggest show on earth. And the first thing an observant Canadian learns is that our social landscapes – in Canada and in America – are as different as Saskatoon and Palm Springs, Dallas and Winnipeg, Ottawa and Albany.

We differ in how we see the role of government, community, church and social services – especially medicare, how we recognize our armed forces, relate to our flag, understand our history of settlement, regard our natives, envision our role in the world, see the environment, appreciate our constitution and (importantly) we differ in how we laugh at ourselves – outside of Holywood and NYC, American’s don’t. We even differ in our belief of god – almost twice as many Americans per capita claim to believe in god as Canadians.

But before I go any further let me be clear. I am not standing on my high horse decrying American failures from the lofty vantage of Canadian superiority. Canada can be smug and liberal and socially experimental exactly because America is the one that got the shit on its shoes.

Canada’s existence is based on two critical realities; 1) American military might defends our massive borders from the invaders and 2) because ever since the Loyalists ran north to Canada in 1776 from the Yankee revolution, the very basis for being a Canadian is that we are “not American”.

Yes its true. Not only do the Yanks provide the safe haven for this massive and underpopulated geographical anomaly to pompously declare its nationhood to the world; perhaps more to the point, the Yanks generously also provide us with our single greatest raison d’etre for WANTING to be Canadian. Or as they say up here, “hey, we’re not American eh!”

But we are not thankless ingrates. We know we have it good. Every time the Yankees stumble we look on protectively, even apologetically. Our fortunes are deeply entwined. Geography and history make it so.

So here we are, sitting pretty with our shit free shoes enjoying the good life. Not to be inconsequential, do we have a station in the role of our neighbor Mister Colossus?  If so, what can we possibly offer aside from the chastity of our natural resources which we long ago surrendered? Well, interestingly, history has already worked this out too. For insights in our role in the mind of America can be seen in the their stereotype of us.

American joke. Q: How do you get 30 Canadians out of a swimming pool?  A: “Will everyone please leave the pool”.

Our relationship has been 200 years in the making. As America suffered one trauma after another and we sat at the end of the long telegraph and rail lines in our frozen wilderness, listening in and occasionally helping out so formed our relationship and friendship with the Yanks. And that now our tumultuous neighbor has become an empire (big shot eh!) they still sees us as the friendly guy next door that can be counted on if the power goes out and the basement floods.  The stereotypical Canadian.

Canada is the scion of America. The wealthy son of a wealthy family who took a lofty world view and aspired to the higher moral ground of such men as Stephen Lewis. Respected because we dared occasionally to put integrity ahead of politics as when we refused to participate in Desert Storm. Our role included a dash of verve and vision – like the metrics and medicare – and Americans honored that about Canada.

quoth the Canadians, not no more,

give us Harper and Rob Ford 

Alberta oil, thats the rule!

Its about the terrorism fool

Ask what side we’re on;

deniers and the neo-cons

Noblesse Oblige screw that lot

An SUV is what I got

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