In a heartwarming display of cross-border bonhomie that would make a moose weep, our polite northern neighbours have reportedly 'shared hopes' for America's upcoming 250th birthday. Yes, the very nation that once burned down their parliament buildings (1814, chaps, look it up) is now the recipient of earnest well-wishes. It's enough to make a cynic choke on his poutine.
I journeyed to the frozen wastelands of Ottawa, a city where the primary industry appears to be apologising for weather that would make a polar bear reconsider its life choices. There, amidst the maple-scented air and the gentle hum of ice hockey commentary, I encountered the phenomenon: Canadians, bless their collective flannel hearts, actually caring about the fate of their loud, gun-loving cousin to the south.
'We just want them to have a nice birthday,' said a woman named Gretchen, clutching a Tim Hortons cup like a holy relic. 'Maybe they could, you know, stop threatening to annex us for a day.' Her companion, a man named Doug whose beard contained a small ecosystem, nodded vigorously. 'It's the polite thing to do. We made a card. It has a beaver on it.'
The card in question, proffered with trembling hands, read: 'Happy 250th, America! Sorry about the whole... everything. Love, Canada.' It was signed by 37 people, presumably after a robust discussion about whether to include a apology for the Great Maple Syrup Heist of 2012.
But let us not be churlish. This is, after all, a genuine expression of goodwill from a nation whose foreign policy consists almost entirely of 'please don't notice us.' They've even offered to lend us their healthcare system for the duration of the celebrations, provided we promise to give it back without any dents.
Meanwhile, in Washington, the official response was predictably ham-fisted. A White House spokesman declared, 'We appreciate our Canadian friends' sentiments, but America doesn't need birthday wishes from a country that still uses the metric system for baking.' He then launched into a 15-minute tirade about the superiority of Fahrenheit, apparently unaware that Canada uses it too for oven temperatures.
But the real question, dear reader, is this: What do Canadians truly hope for America's 250th? Peace on Earth? An end to partisan rancour? A viable third-party candidate? No. According to my exhaustive survey of three people at a bus stop, they hope for 'better poutine in Buffalo' and 'maybe some decent beer.' One man simply said, 'I hope they don't invade us again. That was rude.'
So here's to you, America, about to hit the quarter-millennium mark in a world you've spent that time alternately dominating, ignoring, and accidentally starting wars in. May your birthday be filled with joy, reflection, and a momentary cessation of political absurdity. But if not, at least you'll always know: Canada's got your back. They're just too polite to say it out loud.
