Oh Canada

By Jim Hagarty

It is no secret that Canadians have a slight inferiority complex. I don’t see that as a bad thing; it keeps us from thinking we own the world.

But we like to be recognized by the outside world, especially the United States. We get a kick out of any recognition we can get from the U.S. It is usually positive.

Canada is a bit of a hotbed for humour and we have produced a lot of funny people in our time. Especially funny writers who for decades have found steady employment writing for TV shows and movies made in the U.S.

I am a big lover of sitcoms and a lot of these shows coming from south of the border have at least one Canadian writer on staff. Lorne Michaels, for example, creator and head poobah on Saturday Night Live, is Canadian.

Because of the Canadian influence, perhaps, there are sporadic references to Canada in sitcoms, especially, and I love it when they sneak them in.

Last week, on the popular show, New Girl, Jessie was preparing a little grab bag of gifts for her girlfriend who is getting married. She started rifling through the crazy gifts she had bought her, goofy things she though Cece would like. One of the items she pulled out was a picture of our new prime minister, Justin Trudeau.

“Yay for us,” I thought.

Back home in Canada, poor Trudeau is being roasted these days for supposedly being too much of a glory hog. But the brief shout out didn’t hurt my feelings one bit.

There are worse things our leader could be noted for than being handsome, fun-loving, smart and caring.

Just like we all are up here in the Great White North, white, by the way, referring to our close relationship with snow.

I think, in fact, that it was a Canadian who invented snow.

It’s a shame we didn’t patent it because it seems to have really caught on.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.