Topic: Bernie Bates – Bee in the Bonnet

MAN’S CURSE IS HIS THIRST OF THE UNKNOWN

Do you look to the stars and wonder? Do the stars dance in your imagination, like they do in mine? In some way – I know that they connect us all.

atliens

I’m sure we’ve all seen UFO programs that question the existence of life out there. I’m also just as sure that most reasonable people would agree that the Earth is no more than a speck on a cow’s ass, as the cow watches a jet fly by.

I believe that we are not alone in our cosmic neighborhood. I also believe that governments from around the world are withholding information about the great beyond.

You may think I’m crazy to believe in something that’s so out there. You may think I’m crazy to believe in something that I’ve never held or seen. Well, I’m not the only crazy person who looks to the skies for answers.

Every night, since our first flickers of intellect, mankind has gazed at the stars in amazement. The night’s sky was like humanity’s first television set. Watching ‘the sky’ became a hit.

Wondering stars, that were later discovered to be planets, drew mans eyes to skies with questions of why?

‘Why’, lead to questions far deeper than the deep blue sea. Questions like: why am I here? What purpose do I serve – and who do I serve?

It’s during this part of human history where the charlatans and soothsayers used the skies to their own ends. Natural events like comets, asteroids and shooting stars became omens from the god(s). Before things like science, astronomy and common sense where used; people where scared of the unknown, and where vulnerable to things like superstition, quackery and hearsay.

An eclipse of the sun was reason enough to choke a chicken and cut off it’s head. People in the dark ages, and some folks in rural Texas, believed that if they changed their evil ways and gave 10% of their income – that they would be saved by a man who claimed to talked to the ‘big guy’ himself!

“Fools”, you may exclaim. Makes you wonder how could a Texan believe in such tomfoolery? Do they really believe that they could just tell an invading alien: “I’m with the big guy”? Wink, wink!

Speaking of fools; we are so vain to think we could handle the news that we are not alone. Plus there is a good chance that ‘they’ evolved from predators at the top of their food chain, you know, just like us.

As sure as some deity made little green apples; people would be jumping out of windows left and right.

Imagine looking up one night and seeing the biggest mother-flying-saucer your teeny-weenie brain can grasp?

Now, tell me you wouldn’t be running around with a pant full!

Long held myths, beliefs and boundaries would collapse overnight if an invading species came from the sky.

I just hope that they are not like us. I hope they will have evolved enough to know that killing is not the answer.

Who knows why they arrived here, maybe they’re just here spreading the word of their vengeful god(s).

Sit!

Stand!

Kneel, earthlings!

I hope they are here to share their knowledge and enlighten us about the night’s sky.

I also pray to the heavens that they don’t package my ‘donkey’ to use as a snack on the long ride home.

THE SKINNY OF IT IS – I’M NOT.

How many times have you heard someone jokingly say, “I hate skinny people”? For some people this is a weighty issue – no ifs, ands or big, wide butts, about it!

I would say that I could stand to lose a few pounds or in metric terms that would be, “a couple of kilos”, but who the hell says that?

The only thing holding me back is procrastination, random excuses and procrastination.

Losing weight is no easy fix. First you have to stop eating real food and start choking back green stuff that is better suited for cows, rabbits and Hollywood starlets. The next thing you have to do is get off your ass and onto your feet, out of the shade and into the heat.

When it comes to dieting the part that gets too me is the tradeoff between savory to bland, juicy to grainy and delicious meat for something that smells like it came out of a wet gumboot.

Just like a lot of you regular folks; I was raised on meat and potatoes. That’s another part of my weighty issue. It’s true that you are what you eat. Not only is it what you eat, it’s also how much you munch and even at what times you raid the refrigerator.

Then there are special occasions where food is a huge part of ethnic traditions. Massive amounts of finger licking good grub is forced upon you – and you can’t say no without hurting Nana’s feelings.

The year starts out with the traditional holiday feast of roast beasts. Then comes new years, birthdays, BBQs, parties, business gatherings and Nana’s annual face stuffing contest with guilt pie for desert – can’t you just feel your belt pinching?

The human body is designed to eat and expel in order to exist. Only a short time ago humans had to work for their daily bread. Today, food can be had while you sit in your car or by simply dialing a number. But the latest, laziest and fastest way to stuff your pie-hole is as simple as lifting your finger and clicking a chocolate mousse – or whatever your plaque pumping heart desires.

Let’s not forget the magic gene – the one that pops out of your jeans – by simply rubbing it. In other words: if your Ma and Pa were short and stout, chances are you too are shaped like a little tea pot. That’s part two of my diet woes. Genetically speaking; my jeans are tight.

Now that the warmer weather is here we’ll be seeing more boobs, bellies and mounds of milk jello. I feel ashamed of myself for letting my love handles get out of hand, but this time I have a great excuse.

As it turns out I’ve been walking around with a broken neck for the past year. I thought I was just getting older and paying for my days as the rough and rowdy rouge.

Have you ever bitten down on aluminum foil? That’s what it feels like if I move the wrong way. It makes sleeping all night almost impossible and because I was ignored by the medical community and told to take a number; the result is I haven’t been moving around as much as I should. So, if you see me at the beach, please don’t laugh at my moobs.

LOOK DEEP WITHIN YOUR SOUL

We all have something that we believe in with all of our heart and soul. Something, out there, that gives us hope for a brighter tomorrow. We as mere mortals need to believe there is light at the end of the tunnel – “Go Canucks Go!”

LOOK-DEEP-WITHIN-YOUR-SOUL029

We all have an affiliation with one group or another. A few examples would be your nationality, age group and sex. The list of variables goes on and on. Are you a right-wing-nut or a commie-leftist? Are you pro-life or a knocked up pro in need of a little help?

Do you think politics should stay out of religion or should religion stay out of politics? Do you believe in a god, spirits, nature, energy, ghosts or voodoo? Do you believe the Canucks will win the Stanley cup in our lifetime?

Did you hear about the here-ever-after? It was in all the good books!

There in black and white print, it promises you: ‘life’ after ‘death’! A pretty damned bold statement, wouldn’t you think? But that’s just the tip of the iceberg of what people will hold holy.

Have you heard of holocausts, lynching and honor killings? How about ethnic cleansing, jihads or crusades? There are also weirdos, whackos and soccer hooligans that will kill for their beliefs. I’m glad, as an atheist, Canuck fan – I don’t have to murder another human being to prove a point.

I don’t care what a person believes in, as long as they’re not pushy about it or ask me for twenty bucks. If you pray to the heavens, and it helps you get through the day – I say: “God bless your little old soul”! Hell, for that matter; you could believe in stardust, fairy dust or Elvis the king almighty and I’d still say: “Thank you. Thank you very much!”

As long as your beliefs make you happy and you don’t hurt anyone else – go for it!

Maybe I should start up a place where people could gather, maybe share a few refreshments and express themselves freely. A place where everybody knows your name and they’re always glad you came. I’ll call it ‘The meet market’.

Who am I kidding? Atheists are notorious for their participation in procrastination and indifference to public displays of hurrah. A person would have better luck opening up a house of ill-repute than a church for realists.

I don’t claim to know the answers to life’s questions – does anyone? I don’t know if there is or isn’t an all powerful being that controls the stars and this flee-circus, we call Earth. I don’t know what happens to me after my candle goes out – does anyone?

I do know there isn’t a monster under my bed or a pot of gold at the end of rainbows. I know for a fact that I hate the taste of vinegar, the high pitched sound of a screaming brat and being cold.

I have friends who believe that the so-called soul is just another way to say energy. Other friends believe that they will die and be reborn. Some of my bros think we are just endlessly recycled carbon. Then there are the nut-jobs who think that aliens have instructed the government to watch you – right now – as you read this newspaper!

Let’s play: “Who am I?”

Just make a list like thus: I’m a Native, Canuck, writer, artist, ex-cowboy, left-handed, heterosexual and I believe in recycling.

NEWS THAT’S MADE FIT TO PRINT

NEWSmade
There is an entire generation of people out there that don’t appreciate the feeling you get from a new, crisp newspaper. There is just something about the smell of ink and coffee in the morning that can’t be replaced.

Technology rolls on and it’s constantly at our fingers tips; from that first electronic buzz in the morning to tweeting a good night to John-boy, Sue-Ellen and Grand-pa. These plastic devices may be able to tell you the news in a flash of bits and gigabytes – but, can it swat a fly off your desk?

There is something to be said about a fresh newspaper straight off the presses. It becomes your physical connection with the world around you. It’s yours to hold and choose what interests you, plus, it doesn’t ask you to click ‘like’.

Newspapers have everything from hard hitting headlines to sports and comics. You can use a newspaper to make a wall between you and those who would disturb your peace and quiet. Newspapers can shelter you from a sudden downpour, shield your eyes from the glaring sun or hide your shame from the paparazzi. The printed page can line bird cages, clean windows or they can even be rolled up to smack and whack the idiotic.

If all that wasn’t enough reason to buy a daily rag; people who have a newspaper tucked under their arm are perceived as being smart, important or destined to the throne of crap town.

There was a time when newspapers stood as pillars of truth – too, bad they didn’t stand the test of time. The winds of change are ever relenting. However, I highly doubt that anyone will ever hold a computer tablet above their head and cry out: “Read all about it!”

Holding back change is like trying not to pee – eventually the damned dam is going to burst. If you don’t adapt and evolve you’ll have the marketability of a vinyl record. Coincidently, if not for hip-hop DJs scratching records backwards, there would be a whole generation that would never have heard the crackle, hiss and pop of a vinyl recording.

The sad part about instant technology is that it’s a pick one and disregard of the rest of an artist’s efforts. Easy come, easy go.

I don’t think that the newspaper will disappear completely from our society – but they too, must change with the Times, Post and Global Mail. Today, edgy and witty win the demographics. That creates a problem: how does a newspaper print with passion, grit and wit without a crossing the line of good taste?

When the word sh*t, is printed in the newspaper – readers are smart enough to know what vowel is missing. And it’s sh*t like this, that ties the hands of writers and newspapers from telling it like it is; in a language that is entertaining, colorful and used daily by people like you. But, as sure as the world turns; some petty, politically correct twit will write a scathing letter to the editor.

You would think that it was mostly little old ladies who are give editors grief – untrue. Ironically, the people who think that their sh*t doesn’t stink are the ones who want to sensor what the other ninety-nine readers may consider to be funny, entertaining and true.

I’m proud of what I write and the newspapers that find it fit print.

“THE REDS ARE COMING! THE REDS ARE COMING!”

THE-REDS

The reason that communist Russians are back is because their backs are against the wall.

Ironic, wouldn’t you say?

Is the Ukraine going to be the birth place of world war III?

I think we’re way past due for a big one, anyways. Our history will repeats itself, that’s just a fact of human nature. If you ask me it’s all just one big pissing contest.

Most of us lucky Canucks live in sleepy, peaceful Lalaland – we don’t know the sounds of war – one day we may wake up to a loud bang.

If there was to be another world war – look where Canada is situated on the globe. We’re right between the two biggest dogs on the planet – that bits the big one, eh?

It may not happen today or even next year, but the hammer (and sickle) is coming down.

Good old communism was supposed to be a glorious; all for one and one for all. But it would seem that party is over. It also seems that the motherland wants to expand her family even if it means crawling into bed with sleazy, greasy bad guys.

As we all know it’s not about boundaries or lines in the sands of Israel. It’s about money, and money makes fools of some and dictators of others. The one common denominator, throughout history, has been, and always will be, corruption.

The real answer to war is a question: who benefits?

Land is worth money, natural recourses and even people are worth money. If you can control the people and make them do your bidding – wars are worth big bucks.

It’s not only the Russians who are guilty of expansionism. England has her colonies, eh? The Yankees stole half of Mexico, the Spaniards raped South America – how far back does this pattern repeat itself – yet here we are on the brink of another fiery hell.

Again!

One day after passing a car accident, I asked myself, why did this fender-bender happen? Did the person turn at the wrong time? Was speed a factor, maybe there was a loose nut on the steering wheel or maybe it simply came down to IQ?

The list of factors goes on and on.

If one of the drivers had only enjoyed a second cup of coffee, a longer goodbye kiss or maybe even a quick muffin – all this broken glass, cops and ICBC could have been avoided.

The point is, when it comes to the equation of war, there are always many factors.

Who fired the first shot? Who was shot, how many were shot, why were they shot and where?

If this was a poker game, and Mr. Putin was pushing all his chips in – he’s either not dealing with a full deck or he’s bluffing – knowing full well no one has the economy to call his bold move.

The wild card is; all it will take is for some rogue nation to flinch, twitch and with the push of a nuclear button we could all be bombed, busted and broke, by dawn’s early light.

Speaking in terms of high stakes gambling; who else is in the game, and what are they holding? Could China chime in? Maybe Muhammad bids a mountain of cash and we fold?

Are you a betting man or woman? Do you think Putin will pull the trigger?

Are you willing to bet your bottom?

THE END

Bernie Bates is a writer and an artist Email him at:

beeinthebonnet@shaw.ca

ARTWORK MARKS THE MARCH OF MANKIND

ARTWORK MARKS THE MARCH OF MANKIND

Ever since some artist made his or her mark on an ancient cave wall, art has said: “I was here!”

These primitive etchings not only meant that people lived there; they also relayed their culture, the climate and what was important to them. As primitive as we perceive these ‘cavemen’ to be, they knew enough to pay homage to the animals that gave them sustenance.

Today, the only artwork we pay homage to is portraits of dead politicians on our money.

To prove the validity of art reflecting society, answer these two questions: Name the president depicted on the American one dollar bill? Now name the man on a Canadian one hundred dollar bill.

Yep, you’re a Canuck, eh. I’ll bet that only one in a hundred got that one.

To me this reflects just how different our two societies are. Even though we live on the same continent and speak the same language – Canadians aren’t the gun-ho, rah rah, flag wavers like our Americans cousins. Not to say that Canadians aren’t patriotic – we’re just chillin’ in the great white north, eh?

I’m sure that most of you knew that good ol’ George Washington was on the almighty Yankee dollar, and I’ll bet a loony that very few of you knew the one hundred dollar question – the man is Canadian Prime Minister, Sir Robert Borden.

Artwork used to be very obvious when it depicted the riches and glory of a society, but rarely did you see the blood spilled on the canvases of history. That is until the advent of the camera.

The art of photography brought truth to historical events. Not only can this art form show humanities glory days it can also show us the gory side of mankind.

The unrelenting and bias camera means that the state can no longer dictate what we can or can’t see. No longer can those in power tell an artist what to portray.

Many societies throughout history have erected monuments and effigies to gods, heroes and their statesmen – but time and weather can erode even the hardest stone and beliefs evolve over time.

The Berlin wall is a great example of good over evil, truth over lies and freedom over oppression. On one side of the wall it was cold, grey rock covered with barbwire. On the other side of the wall people used it as a canvas to paint: “I am here!”

Art, itself can affect people in different ways. A Jackson Pollock abstract could move someone to tears, yet the person standing right next to them will look at the splashes of color and wonder, ‘what the hell?’

Art has changed and evolved with the times. Renowned master Leonardo da Vinci painted the Sistine chapel. Andy Warhol became famous for drawing soup cans back in the 1960s. Today’s best know artist is Matt Groening, creator of the Simpsons. This edgy, ‘tell it like it is’, cartoon series is really a reflection of you, your family and what’s happening in your ‘Springfield’.

There will of course be those people who will be standing right next to you thinking, ‘what the hell?’

The beauty of art comes in many different forms. Architecture, gardening even the human body can be a sculpted object of living art.

Art is all around us every day, even the illustration to this column drew you in, didn’t it?

SOMETIMES I JUST WANT TO SCREAM

justscream

We’ve all had moments of such incredible frustration – that you just want to scream your damned head off!

It’s in our DNA to cry out. Babies cry out for mother’s first milk. They scream for hunger, pain and protection; usually in the booth next to me.

Which makes me want to scream.

But, society has outlawed loud.

So, it would be considered a social crime if I were to yell at the waiter: “I asked you ‘not’ to seat me near children. Please and thank you.”

Please don’t get me wrong, I love children (*).

It makes no sense to go out and pay good money just to be seated next to screeching babies, intolerable temper tantrums and a mother who repeatedly threatens a two year old: “if you don’t stop screaming right now,I’ll give you a time out, mister!”

Screaming is a very primal instinctual answer to stress. I think there is a place for it in today’s society. I’d even go so far as to say that screaming out loud is a human necessity.

There is a whole list of things I’d like to scream at; including the waiter, the mother and the brat.

Ah, where to start? I’d like to scream at my bills and the cost of the pills that help me swallow my over priced bills. I’d like to scream at the incompetent nincompoops who run this country – but as we all know they can’t hear screams for help nor common sense.

Stubborn people bother me to my wits’ end. I’d make fun of them, but they wouldn’t know it.

They would just stand there with their jaw set and that stupid, stubborn look on their face.

No matter how much sense you make; they have already made up their teeny, tiny, bureaucratic, little minds. And there isn’t one damned thing you can do about it!

It’s at this point where I wish it were acceptable to scream my fool head off.

I’m sure you too have a few things you’d like to scream about.

Wouldn’t it be cool if it were legal to catch, tie up and gag a bureaucrat? Then, you could scream – your side of the story – without interruption, being put on hold or given another 1-800 number to call.

Can you imagine how much stress that would alleviate?

Maybe there should be a 1-800 number a person could call, and scream away their woes to another soul. Or maybe the government could erect soundproof cubicles on street corners, so a person could unburden themselves of stress through scream therapy.

There are 1-800 numbers you can call to hire people who will listen to you, scream with you and help you relieve your pent up stress. But, sadly, the government frowns on commercial sex therapy.

Speaking of happy endings and screaming, we must not forget about the screams of joy. The news of a newborn, the exultation of winning the lottery and screaming at an overbearing boss: “You can take this job and shove it!”

(*) Children are wonderful, fascinating and ever curious creatures to me. I love kids and they love me, sensing that I’m just a big kid at heart. They are our future, I get that, but I don’t come to your dining room table and scream!

THE END

Please feel free to contact, Bernie Bates at: beeinthebonnet@shaw.ca

Smoking the Peace Pipe

It’s about time the knot-heads started talking to the pot-heads. This war on weed has got to stop. It’s time to smoke the peace pipe.

BITB_FEB19-2014_SMOKING-THE-PEACE-PIPE

When world leaders such as Clinton, Bush and Obama have admitted to smoking a big fat one – yet they’ll stand shoulder to shoulder with the moral moron majority – when it comes to the legalities of a smokable martini.

One word comes to mind: hypocrites!

My advice to you is to never follow the righteous, for they will become corrupt, in time. The reason is simple; mankind’s worst vice is greed. With that said; if you want to seek the truth follow the payola.

Brick by brick, piece by piece, communism and the Berlin wall fell, and so too are the laws against marijuana. Those long-haired, pot smoking hippies of yore, are now old grey grandparents and great grandparents. If they’re not dead, ask them what it was like when the war on drugs started.

If you were to take a poll of these old souls, you’d find that in general they are just everyday sweethearts. These old pot-heads didn’t become reefer mad nor did they turn into heroin junkies. Chances are that ninety percent of those long-hairs, just grew up and stopped lighting up.

Prohibition of alcohol didn’t work any better than the idiotic laws against sex – silly politicians. The only way to stop horny people from screwing is to put a bullet in their hump-happy heads.

Free people want what they want, and all the laws, police and prisons can’t stop the flood of humanity. It’s as silly as asking you to stop scratching your ass when you have an itch.

People, in general are smart enough to know what is acceptable and what is excessive. Society, just like nature, is self regulating. An example is the loud mouthed drunk. Do you hang around people like this or do you shun their boisterous behaviour? How many of you allow cigarette smoking in your car or home? How many employers want to hire a stoner? How many parents want their sweet young daughter to marry a stoner?

This is where economy comes into play; said stoner, needs green money to buy green bud. This forces a choice for the stoner: just how stoned do I want to get? Versus, the human vice of greed.

Only greed and time will dictate the answer to drugs in society.

The world’s economy is in deep due, due and passed due, too. In the past, governments have taken over businesses, such as alcohol, tobacco and lotteries. I predict they will also get into the drug game. You can mark my word on it too, if you want to make a wise investment for the future.

Do you want proof that the door to drugs is finally beginning to open? Medical marijuana dispensaries are popping up faster than Starbucks, and getting a medical marijuana card is easier to get than a passport.

But the big news of the day is that the federal government of the United States is allowing banks to accept deposits from the sale of a product that according to federal law, is prohibited.

There is that one word again: hypocrites!

Just think this whole thing probably started when some Indian threw a dried up old weed on the campfire and everyone began to laugh like crazy!

THE END

MAY I SAY MERRY CHRISTMAS?

xmas

The Grinch who stole Christmas was a heartless villain, we must all agree. But he had a rough childhood and that’s why – can’t you see?

In the end the Grinch rediscovers the spirit of Christmas and grows a heart.

It’s too bad I can’t say the same about the politically correct zealots, who seem to be in charge of our ever changing culture.

There was a day when the masses said, “Merry Christmas, to one and all!” But under the new rules we’re encouraged to replace that traditional greeting with phrases like; happy holidays or season’s greetings. You know, so as not to upset other cultures, who maybe new to this great land of freedom.

Personally I’m all for welcoming the new-be’s to our home and native’s land. Canucks encourage these peoples to bring their cultural festivities; so that we all may enjoy them together.

So my ‘Q’ to you is why can’t we say, write or display: Merry Christmas in public places without some dudly-do-right pointing out the fact that the word Christmas has the word Christ, in it?
Give me a break!

For Christ’s sake!

Even, I, as a supposedly goddamned atheist, thinks that excluding the traditional greeting of Merry Christmas is ludicrous. So what if it carries a religious overtone?

To myself, it is the spirit in which it is said, that really matters. Words are wonderfully powerful instruments of human communication. But to give them too much power is just as wrong.

Once upon a time, Merry Christmas, was just a happy sentiment. Today, some use it as a weapon in the war of words.

As a person of native heritage, I know first hand what it’s like to lose a tradition. Sadly, I can’t even speak my own language, because there is no one to speak with anymore.

Yet I support the use of Merry Christmas as a greeting. Even though it was the Christians, themselves who systematically dismantled my culture. And in the spirit of the season I can forgive those who’ve trespassed against me and that gives me peace.

Don’t get me wrong, I still prey that one day humanity is ruled by people who aren’t delusionally fixated on a mythical idol. My Christmas wish is that one day, Christmas, is just a day when humanity reflects back on itself, and gives thanks that they aren’t as backwards as we are today.

I have another ‘Q’ for you: who do children think of on Christmas eve? If your answer was Santa Claus, give yourself some cookies and milk. As adults Christmas, means buying presents. Little thought is given, these days, to the reason for the season.

As Christian lore goes; December the 25th, is a day to rejoice in the birth of their messiah. A day when three wise men, from the middle east, finally agreed on something.

Christmas, to me, is a time of year when people are nicer to one another. A time when we connect with a smile, a nod and a wink.

It’s during this time of year is when I get a glimpse at what life would be like if we celebrated the spirit of Christmas every day.

From my home to yours, Merry Christmas and a happy new year.

And to all the politically correct zealots out there, I hope you get a lump of coal and a heart.

THE END

OUR HOME AND NATIVE LAND

OUR-HOME-AND-NATIVE-LAND2

Unless you live under a rock or maybe it’s just anal thinking that is stopping you from realizing we are becoming Americans.

Maybe more accurately: Americanized.

O Canadians, from far and wide, are a proud bunch. We enjoy free health care (when we can get it), an abundance of natural resources and a rich ethnic diversity that co-exist in a peaceful manner.

Canucks are basically a happy lot who buy a house lot and are content with their lot in life. Ninety-nine percent of Canadians are descent, carefree and almost pompously polite.

Canadians have a great reputation around the world. We’re kind of looked upon as being the peace loving kid in the global schoolyard. But don’t mess the Canuck kid, he has a very big brother.

You know it. I know it. The whole damned planet knows we’re apart of the United States of America – whether we sing it out loud or not.

As they say: “when the USA sneezes we catch a cold.”
Ah, ah, choo!

Want proof of our Americanization? Do your own grass-roots pole. Ask ten people at random to name the president of the United States and his predecessor? Then ask them that same question regarding our Canadian prime ministers.

Your results will be sad, and prove that we’ve become ‘North’ Americans.

Our top singers, actors, syrup and Pamela Anderson’s flow south to further their careers and become famous.

If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. And as an added bonus, you can come back to Canada and shoot your movies much cheaper – because of generous tax incentives.

Oh, Canada!

Canadians are a generous people, too. We pay more for products as soon as they cross the forty-ninth parallel. Magazines, cars and even a Canadian flag costs more in our home and native land.

With the Christmas shopping spree just around the corner – price, matters.

I’d say, “buy Canadian”, but that would work about as well as: “Just say no!” or “Stop playing with that son, you’ll go blind!”

With a gloomy economy and costs that will rise as sure as the sun, it’s a good thing that we’re chin up, optimistic Canadians – in all our sons command..

With glowing hearts we see thee prices rise in the true north strong and not so free trade agreements. Every time I see the two prices on a magazine, it feels as blatant as a slap in the face. The other thing that come to mind is the childhood taunt: Nah, nana, nah, nah you paid more.

The border between The US and O Canada is the longest unprotected border in the world. It also has other notable customs. For instance the gun culture in the United States. As soon as you cross into the US, it would be wise not to tell a little old lady from Pasadena, “Go suck an egg, eh!” You just might wind up picking shell fragments out of your butt. Eh?

Another strange and odd thing about our American cousins is how they see us. I don’t know how many misconstrued stories I’ve heard about the way our neighbors to the south see us.

Here are a few misconceptions they make about Canada: There is snow as soon as you cross the forty-ninth parallel (so pack a parka). All Canadian police are modeled after the cartoon Dudley-Do-Right, and that the rest of us loggers have heavy accents, eh!

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee!

THE END