oh, canada

Interwebs tells me that today is Canada Day, and although I'm not entirely sure what that means, I'm planning on celebrating this hallowed day by sharing with you some of my favorite people and things from the Great White North.  (Why?  Because nothing even remotely interesting has happened in the past two days, so I have nothing better to write about.  That's why.)

So, and in no particular order, thank you Canada for:

Corey Haim

Of the two Coreys, Haim was always my favorite.  Feldman was cute enough, but something about him always struck me as clownish, while Corey Haim was just cool, cute and so very Canadian.  Even nineteen years later, I can still recall the very vivid fantasies I used to entertain of becoming Mrs. Haim while watching Dream a Little Dream until the tape wore out.  (Some dreams are better left unfulfilled is my larger point.  Go on and watch ten minutes of The Two Coreys if you don't know what I'm talking about.  Thank God I dodged that trainwreck!)

The Wonderbra

Apparently, Canadian.  Roughly around the same time that I was pining over Corey Haim was when I made the harsh realization that I might never make it to a C cup.  Then suddenly: Wonderbra!  Screw you, cruel hand of genetics!!!

The Kids in the Hall

Bruce's affection for the absurd always made him my favorite Kid, but Scott's fabulousness,  Mark's legs in heels, Kevin's gumpiness, and Dave's dry wit each hold their own special place in my heart.  

(Filipino Kid: "Are you 

American?"  

Tourist: "No, I'm Canadian.  

It's like American, but 

without the gun.")

Canadian Bacon

What makes it Canadian?  I have no idea!  But whatever it is also makes it delicious.  Thank you, Canada.

The City of Windsor

Much like young  South Texans are to Mexico, many young Detroiters such as myself owe their first "legal" drinking experiences to the great city of Windsor.  Windsor, your nineteen-year-old bar clientele is beyond annoying to me today, but I once held your clean streets and open, gin-soaked arms in the highest of regard, and for that I salute you.

The Zipper

In an alternate universe Gideon Sundback was never born, and thus the zipper never was.   This is a place where people are endlessly fidgeting with buttons and hooks like a bunch of cavemen.  It's a slow to dress, dark, joyless place.

For all this and so much more, thank you Canada.  Now I plan to round out the day perfecting my Jennifer Tilly impersonation while I listen to some Rush, practice my curling, and muse over where the wheels fell off of Alanis Morisette's career.  Hoser.