I'm starting to wonder if our neighbor up north decided to throw in the towel. "You guys go ahead without me," says Canada, rooting around in an old metal cooler for an ice-cold Molson's and cracking it open with its teeth. "I've had a nice career, but it's time for me to put up my feet and watch 'Hockey Night in Canada'."
Hockey Night in Canada? It's not even Hockey Week in Canada, thanks to the wicked Coronavirus variant du jour, Omicron.
This bodes not well for my Canadian family. I sent a friendly, personal letter to the maple leaf country in the spring of 2021 asking if it would be a terrible imposition for it to verify that my children were bona fide citizens, able to travel freely across the frozen tundra and maybe attend one of the lower-priced institutes of higher education that Canada has on offer. Alas, no response. I had done the same in the spring of 2020 and waited more than ten months before Canada sent back a terse note rejecting the applications on technical grounds: "Your children's photos aren't dated."
Darned Canada and its bureaucratic red tape!
I didn't whine but sent applications anew with dated photos, knowing that arguing with such a large country would be a waste of time. I've tried to argue with countries in the past, and I always lose. Large nations have lots of lawyers who advise them to stall, and an inbox that no one monitors. Plus, Canada is too busy trying to figure out how to make the best use of newly melting artic ice to respond to my queries. The scheme Canada hatched to fill 2-ounce plastic containers and sell each as "a former chunk of iceberg" that is "refreezable" was thwarted when the original bottlecaps it ordered leaked, undermining the marketing message that "tubes of melted iceberg make perfect stocking stuffers." Canada tried to get replacements before the start of the holiday shopping season but were stymied by supply-chain issues. Meanwhile, the ice keeps retreating and there is no room to store additional water. Serves you right, Canada!
I expect that our wintry pal next door will eventually come to its senses and will send me a response along the lines of, "We reject your applications on the grounds that your children's photos are out of date." Though technically true, this is only because Canada has been rooting around for more beer in the ice-filled cooler instead of processing my application.
I cling to a small measure of hope, given that as Canada is settling into its Barcalounger and reaching for the remote, the NHL is postponing all games for a week. Just enough time to open a few more applications and make good on my request.
And where was I during the Royal Wedding, hmm? It’s a question a lot of people have been asking themselves and each other. The scuttlebutt is that the paparazzi were hounding me and my family, so we went incognito and flew under the radar.
Cut to the Fake News Media, which spreads lies claiming that I wasn’t even invited. Ha, what a laugh! I was invited, but it turns out that, by rule, only a certain number of us Canadians are allowed to attend royal weddings in a given year. That’s the kind of international discrimination we Canadians have to endure. I’d like to see the reaction you Americans would have if a cap were imposed on your numbers at royal weddings. You’d probably invade the wedding with Marines.
Anyway, by now you must know that I’m not really into “the spotlight.” Oh, sure, it might look like I am, the way I beam radiantly whenever the fake news media’s cameras are trained on me, but that’s just a front. Under that thin veneer is a shy fellow who’d prefer to sit in the shadows.
Hanging in the shadows for the next couple of days, if you care to visit.
J'Biden Era Haikuage
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In 100 days
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Repair. Restore. Heal.
There's nothing new here
The Affordable Care Act
We're restoring it
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Truth, not denial
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