(“Beaver versus Bush" is the title of today's story which sprung out of a quick skim through the first page of a Dose paper which I had picked up against my better judgement today after work. Don't get me wrong, I like the look of the paper and the ads all around town are funny enough but the content just isn't there. Case in point, today's lamebrained article on the changing nature of Canada. Sure Canada is more than maple syrup guzzling mounties on mooseback as the article points out but there was no alternative image presented. Canada has new icons, the article claims but fails to provide us with anything but boosterism about how wonderful our cities are. All this is true but where are the icons ?! Today I will take a stab at a new icon. I hope you enjoy the story. Chemo !!(Canadian expression for "hello","goodbye","enjoy", etc))
“What are you dressed up as ?” she says with contempt. His costume does not follow any guidelines of how a costume should look. If anything his choice of costume reeks of weakness. She on the other hand is dressed up like a totem pole.
“I’m the guy who’s been sleeping in bed with the elephant,” he says with a hint of clandestine wit. He knows history. His costume consists of 1) a pair of pyjamas from Army and Navy purchased for 9.99 and 2) a fake flattened left arm made out of cardboard. His good left arm hugs his mid-section which is slowing filling up with beer.
“What’s that got to do with Canada ?” she asks with all the confidence of an interrogator one question away from proving someone is woefully inept at the whole business of life.
“Living next to America is like sleeping with an elephant,” he says, quoting his countries most infamous prime minister.
She stares at him like he’s spouting poetry from another planet.
“Get lost you creep,” she says. She walks away to join the group of guys dressed like beavers. They are talking about an imagined wrestling match between a man called the Beaver and a man called the Bush.
They laugh the length of their entire costume adorned bodies.
He leaves the party and walks out into the night. No more parties based on Canadian icons, he tells himself. He whistles Stompin’ Tom Connors songs on the way home.
Oh Canada.
BEAVER VERSUS BUSH
“What are you dressed up as ?” she says with contempt. His costume does not follow any guidelines of how a costume should look. If anything his choice of costume reeks of weakness. She on the other hand is dressed up like a totem pole.
“I’m the guy who’s been sleeping in bed with the elephant,” he says with a hint of clandestine wit. He knows history. His costume consists of 1) a pair of pyjamas from Army and Navy purchased for 9.99 and 2) a fake flattened left arm made out of cardboard. His good left arm hugs his mid-section which is slowing filling up with beer.
“What’s that got to do with Canada ?” she asks with all the confidence of an interrogator one question away from proving someone is woefully inept at the whole business of life.
“Living next to America is like sleeping with an elephant,” he says, quoting his countries most infamous prime minister.
She stares at him like he’s spouting poetry from another planet.
“Get lost you creep,” she says. She walks away to join the group of guys dressed like beavers. They are talking about an imagined wrestling match between a man called the Beaver and a man called the Bush.
They laugh the length of their entire costume adorned bodies.
He leaves the party and walks out into the night. No more parties based on Canadian icons, he tells himself. He whistles Stompin’ Tom Connors songs on the way home.
Oh Canada.
posted by kevin spenst at 5:19 PM
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