The story so far

"DVP congestion" by Floydian - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0

I've been meaning to do this for a while--create a blog specifically devoted to my life in Canada. After all, when I moved from Central Pennsylvania to Pittsburgh, I transitioned from Bothered and Bewildered in Blogtucky to Montag's on Fire. So now that I've been in Canada for 2-1/2 years and now have become a permanent resident, it feels like it's overdue to create this separate space to discuss all my "Canadian class" experiences (a little immigration humo(u)r).

My first step is to gather together past posts from Canada Day 2015 (the day I officially moved--although the immigration and moving process began several weeks before that day) to the present, ones that had a mainly Canadian focus and were originally published to Montag's on Fire. So far, I'm discovering that there are not as many from the early days of my immigration as I had imagined.

I think this is because I was simply too busy working, something I continue to do a lot of in Canada, like every other immigrant, regardless of class, age, or culture.

* * *

Not to stereotype too much, but it holds true: the native-born seem laidback and lazy to me while it's the immigrants who keep things moving in the Canadian economy. It seems the same in America and Europe as well, so it's not a peculiarly Canadian phenomenon, just maybe a Western one. You can rest and relax when your present feels settled and your future seems secure. Otherwise, you gotta keep moving, striving, and (hopefully) succeeding.

Having said that, there are things that do feel especially Canadian about this phenomenon, or better said, socially democratic. On a recent visit, my friend the Archivist was the one to use the word "laidback" to describe Canadians. Me, I use terms like "lazy" and "spoiled" and "Bernie Sanders-esque." I'd like to think that Canadians have no idea how easy they have it, but in fact they do because they some can be quite smug about their lives when comparing themselves to their American cousins. Part of me is a little resentful of this (OK, OK, more than a little resentful)--I'm working my ass off at 56, and they're sitting pretty thanks to social welfare and unionization at 26, 36, and 46. And no matter what I do over the next decade, I suspect they'll still end up better situated for retirement than me.

Nonetheless, I feel like I've had more exposure to life in different places than my native-born Canadian colleagues have had--or at least exposure to life on a different scale. American life can be big, global; Canadian life feels small. The people I tend to get along with best here (although I've done a crap job of making friends) are the ones who've spent some time in the U.S. or in other countries or those who even just moved from one province to another or went to a university other than the Big One in Toronto.

For better or for worse, living in Washington, D.C., in my 20s had a profound influence on me. I still expect the culture and people of big cities to be dynamic, powerful, global in perspective, and passionate. I perhaps unfairly held San Antonio to the same standard and was often disappointed. Although now I appreciate and long for San Antonio more than I used to--it was at least culturally aware of Mexico and had its own unique Tex-Mex culture. Pittsburgh was an even bigger disappointment, not living up to my perhaps ridiculous, youthfully idealistic standards. Maybe one day I'll come to appreciate it better, too. Oddly, I felt a certain yearning for Pennsylvania when the Philadelphia Eagles recently won the Super Bowl, of all things. And at least I had friends in Pittsburgh. But then I worked a lot less in Pittsburgh. Whether it was because I was lazy, spoiled, or Bernie Sanders-esque, I could not say.

* * *

To supplement the slim pickin's of this blog, over time I may add musings from my Facebook posts and tweets, where I probably have expressed myself and my relationship with Canada more fully. It's far easier to write a punchy post or trenchant tweet than an essay on a blog. So those who know me best have a better record of my on-the-surface feelings about Canada. However, they lack the depth of my feelings available from my blog.

Lucky you, dear reader.

In the meantime, I'll continue to add my own personal "Canadiana" from various sources and provide new posts as time allows. I'll still keep up Montag's on Fire--which has become a tad too much Resistance-focused of late (I'm working on that)--but my so-called life in Canada deserves some recognition and introspection all on its own. Let's hope I can do so through this space.

I can see Canada from my house

"Palin while visiting Ketchikan during her gubernatorial
campaign in 2006" by Bob Weinstein. CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported.

Author's note: Reposted to this blog on February 14, 2018.

* * *

I'm seeing buzz on Twitter this morning that Sarah Palin may be nominated as United States ambassador to Canada.

As the kids might say, 😲

Or maybe, 😳

Or maybe, 🙄

Or maybe we're all just laughing our tuques off.

A few quick observations--

• What did Canada ever do to hurt the U.S. so badly? Yes, some Canadians could earn an Olympic medal in patting themselves on the back, being self-satisfied about their nation and their lives compared to their American cousins. But is that any reason to inflict Sarah Palin on them--or anyone? I mean, if the Trump administration is so interested in torture, might I suggest letting Sarah set up her own Abu Graib-like black ops re-education center somewhere outside of Kotzebue?

• So much for the northern escape route. You thought you could treat Canada once again as your safety school (thank you, Stephen Colbert, for that observation) and flee Trump's America by trying to emigrate to Canada--without having a real sense of how to do it or how difficult it is to do. 

But the best way to do that is to vote--and not vote conservative, right wing, alt-right, Republican, or Jill Stein.

• Tut, tut, really, there's nothing to worry about: Sarah's sled dogs will turn on her and eat her alive before she gets as far as Dawson City.

Or she'll quit midway through her term.

Either way, problem solved.

* * *

A silver lining?

Canada, like most Western nations, has concerns about low birthrate, an aging population, and how to maintain societal viability under such circumstances--and immigration, especially immigration that favors young families, is one way to address that.  

(Editor's note: As I have discovered in my efforts to apply for permanent residency in Canada, one gets zero points for being over 50, single, and childless. This means that even with a work permit, a master's degree, a lengthy professional record, fluency in English and some competency in French, not to mention a well-paying job, I still just barely score high enough to be considered by using the Citizenship and Immigration Canada online analysis tool. But such is life.)

But if Bristol Palin joins Sarah in Ottawa and continues to promote abstinence-only sex education in Canada--all the while caring for her two children born without benefit of marriage--the Canadian birthrate will sky rocket!

Cross-border diplomacy achieved--and problem solved again.

Clair de looney

Author's note: Reposted to this blog on February 14, 2018.

* * *

You know you live in Canada when you receive these instructions from your physical therapist:

Lie on your back with your knees bent. Inhale to prepare, exhale to activate core and activate gluts as if balancing a looney between buttock cheeks.

For those not in the know (and why would you be?), the looneye ("loonie"?) is the $1 Canadian coin, so named because the reverse side features a common loon floating on the surface of a lake.

Like so:

You sometimes even hear the $2 coin (there are no $1 or $2 paper bills in Canada anymore) referred to as a "twooney." ("Twoonie"?)

Or perhaps someone was just playing me for a loon.

Yonge at heart

Author's note: Republished on February 9, 2018.

* * *

Route of Heroes? More like Rout of Consumers.

Yonge and Bloor, Toronto's highfalutin' economic epicenter (or so it seems to me). And who am I to say no? Although plenty said no to me: I struck out at J. Crew, Zara, Roots, Banana Republic, and especially Holt Renfrew's men's store, which featured some gorgeous designer clothing, accompanied by some stuff better left on the Paris runway--or perhaps I mean the Paris runaway. HR for Men: Where Canada's Aspirational Eurotrash Come to Shop.

But I mined haberdasher gold at The Bay. Which probably says more about my sense of style (and waistline) these days than I care to admit.  Nevertheless, they were beautiful shirts (and, OK, a tie, too), sort of a plum hue, which seems to be my colour de l'année.

And speaking of aspirational Eurotrash, have you met me lately?


Still very new to Canada, I'm in between paychecks, having finished one job and now starting another within the last month. Nevertheless, I didn't go the Route of Credit because I don't yet have a Canadian credit card and am trying to give my American ones a bit of a breather after the move.

So I did the, ahem, practical thing: I used my new Canadian debit card.

Now come on, I needed to know it worked. Really, I owed it to the bank and the hiccuping Canadian economy.

And if I don't watch out, I really will owe it to the bank. Really, money doesn't grow on trees, not even in Canada.

Bienvenue au Canada

Author's note: Posted to this blog on February 9, 2018, at 8:46 pm. 

I originally wrote this post on my other blog soon after I moved to Canada. Now I'm trying to concentrate all my "Canada posts/postes Canada" (hardy har har) in one blog, this blog.

* * *

I still feel like I should live in Montréal--somehow it speaks a lot to my spirit, my inner life, even if my French is paltry and pitiful at the moment--but I'm enjoying being happy up here in Toronto.

I highly recommend it. Immigration FTW!