I have several good blogger friends who are Canadians. I realize that many of you are now slowly shaking your head with that “I told you so” expression.
But I really try not to judge people or their cultures, no matter how strange or foreign they seem to me.
For the record, I have friends from southern California, too.
But let’s get back to Canada, where my friend and humour (see how I spelled that?) blogger Randall Willis resides. In Toronto, Ontario actually. I’d give you his exact address but it resembles the coordinates for a Space Shuttle landing. I’m not sure why Canadians use all those numbers and letters, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the metric system. All I know is it would take me longer to put the address into my car’s GPS system than it would to drive aimlessly until I found him by accident.
Anyway, a few weeks ago we decided to have a gift exchange of sorts; I sent him a copy of my book in exchange for a “Canadian care package.” I say a few weeks ago because, as I mentioned, it was for Christmas, and would take me a week just to write the address on the package. After three ink pens and approximately nine feet of numbers and letters wrapped around a 6×6-inch package [I’ll say it for you: “That’s what she said!”], I sent my gift on its way.
A week later, I got this…
My package was returned with a scary “finger-pointing” sticker, a big circle with a red line drawn through a package, and a notice asking for Customs Forms. Despite being a syndicated columnist, I have managed to live my life in relative anonymity in regards to any government agencies not having to do with liquor or voting — which, I should mention, will likely go hand-in-hand for many Americans during the next presidential election. But thanks to my Canadian friend, I’m pretty sure there’s a file with my name on it sitting on the desk of a disgruntled FBI agent with a dislike of humor columnists.
Still, I filled out the proper paperwork and resent my package to Randall even though I’m pretty sure someone was following me.
Today, I received a large package with a return address that appeared to be a mathmatical equation for infinity.
“Randall’s completely harmless and non-terrorist package has arrived from our neighboring ally country of Canada!” I said loud enough for any spies to hear. I then read the address out loud figuring anyone listening would either fall asleep or tune out after the first 10 minutes.
I opened the package and began removing its contents…
That’s when I suddenly became aware of another danger associated with having Canadian friends…
Their love of hockey…
The more items I pulled out of that package, the more I realized the danger I was in…… of slowly becoming
A Canadian hockey fan.
So for those of you who may be contemplating having one or more Canadian friends like my friend Randall, keep in mind it will likely draw a few stares. Possibly even some unwanted attention from Homeland Security. But don’t let that keep you from reaching across the border.
Just keep in mind they may hand you a hockey stick.
And thank you so much, my friend…
He is also now a Toronto Marlies hockey fan