Canada Takes Charge

The Canadian dollar is worth more than the American dollar for the first time since our invasion of Canada in 1775, which of course we Americans won.

The Canadian dollar is called The Looney because it bears a picture of a loon. The reason why there is a picture of a loon on the Canadian dollar is a state secret wrapped carefully in the skin of a cute widdle baby harp seal and hidden deep in an abandoned gold mine outside Dawson and guarded by Sergeant Preston of the Yukon.

Canadians are celebrating the power of their dollar by crossing the border and buying made-in-China stuff in America instead of buying made-in-China stuff in Canada. Because our funny-money is no longer quite up to the mark, goods are cheaper here in Canada’s Back Yard. A gallon of gasoline in Canada, for instance, costs almost five dollars, and that’s five sturdy Canadian dollars, not our flimsy Yank dollars, and so all those cars bearing patriotic maple leaf bumper stickers nip discreetly across The World’s Friendliest Border to buy cheap American petrol.

Being an underdeveloped country could be interesting. This winter Canadians will flee the ice and cold for the warmth of the Gulf of Mexico. We locals might find jobs wearing funny hats and selling overpriced drinks with umbrellas stuck in them to haughty tourists who will write postcards home about us quaint, colorful Americans in our native peasant garb:

“Dear Neville and Beryl, Having the most amusing time among the natives down here, eh. Charming towel boy named Bubba who was once a great logger or something among his tribe until we flooded the American market with our softwood, eh. Given the exchange rate, I and some of the lads at the fishery are thinking of getting together and buying Beaumont as a lark, eh. What they call a dollar is so charming, but of course it’s not real money, eh. See you on Dominion Day, eh. Your pals, Pierre et Marie”

Our illegal aliens could grow to be quite the snobs too: “’Ey, Yankee-boy, you are a bunch of losers. We’re going to Canada for better welfare and to learn how to say ‘Go, Maple Leafs! Eh.’”

Canadian dudes will swagger down the streets of our once-great cities and steal our girlfriends away by flashing their wallets full of Looneys and Tooneys. We will complain that the loud, pushy Canadians are overpaid, oversexed, and over here.

Canadians will patronize (or patronise) us by assuring us that our decaying Republic is so last week’s news, and that in the twenty-first century being a part of the British Empire is the coming thing.

Our children will have to go to special night schools to learn how to spell colour, armour, and eh if they want to be part of the world economy.

Little boys will discard G.I. Joe in favor (or favour) of RCMP Smedley.

American nationalists will gather in secret to whisper about the nefarious Canadian plot to invade us and steal our sand.

Manly men will gather around the telly on Sunday afternoon to watch soccer as the NFL is relegated to sandlots and supermarket openings.

The White House will feature a Tim Horton’s in the lobby, and the President will eagerly claim to be the Prime Minister’s best pal.

This Moosehead’s For You.

Cindy Sheehan and Al Sharpton will picket outside Parliament in Ottawa screaming “Canada Out of Canada!”

Canadian movies will feature the streets of Los Angeles pretending to be the streets of Toronto, partly because of the exchange rate but mostly because the streets of Los Angeles are safer.

Hummer? Ha! Now it’s all Bombardier.

And the final humiliation resulting from Canada’s economic and cultural dominance of North America: Newfoundlanders will be telling Amerifie jokes.