Shortly after the Jays won the World Series for the second time, my family and I went to Disney World and in line with classically-awesome Disney staff etiquette, one of the ride operators asked us where we were from.
“Toronto!” (best roll that second ‘t’ when you read that, son)
<insert blank stare>
We tried to ring her bell with the whole but we just won the championship for YOUR favourite pastime – twice bit, but to no avail. The moment seared into my brain and I joined the bandwagon filled with Canadians who so wanted to be just like our flashier, super-popular neighbouring country. I cheered on every (failed) Toronto Olympic bid and my heart would skip a beat when our exported celebrities would mention something remotely Canadian.
“Oh my gosh, did Trish Stratus just say Glosettes? Did she just say GLOSETTES?!?”
Be careful what you wish for.
Even a former “leader of the free world” is making fun of Toronto’s F-word. How I miss the mild domestic embarrassment of Mel Lastman calling in the army to clear our snow. This guy is turning us into a series viral punchlines. Ugh.
How can we ever recover our delightfully quiet, quirky, and hyper-polite image? All the cute things about us that Robin raves about every few episodes on How I Met Your Mother? This is how:
- Have our Prime Minister include his pet chinchilla in this year’s official Harper family Christmas card
- Outlaw doorknobs in Vancouver
- Put both Rob Ford and Justin Beiber in a time out
Okay, the last one hasn’t happened yet, alas, but the first two serve an excellent start.