Canader? I hardly know her

As few probably realized but pretty much all would have cared, my dearest pal MB and her hubby, Geraldo, decided now (last weekend, actually) was as good of time as any to take a little vacation. World travelers they, this was a short jaunt north of the border to the place every Bush-hater threatened to move but of course never did, Canada. So as the world was just coming to grips with the latest media scaremongering PANDEMIC!!!!! (capital letters, exclamation points, OMG, etc.), Swine Flu, MB and Geraldo decided to take in the HQ sights of the media's last scaremongering pandemic (small letters, no exclamation point because the U.S. was never threatened), SARS. I suppose this is somehow fitting. Or at least nice of them.

Whatever the reason, they went and MB took a 428 photos, some with Geraldo and a few actually interesting (I keed) but felt she couldn't adequately capture the experience and turn it into a post worthy of her blog. She jokingly suggested I write it for her. She will probably never crack wise with me again as I'm taking her up on that offer. This is a task that I feel I am uniquely and thoroughly qualified for. To wit:

1. Rush hails from there and I've been listening to them religiously for over 22 years during which time I've seen 18 shows.
2. I love the Kids in the Hall, know a lot of their skits and have seen them live.
3. Growing up my favorite baseball team was the Toronto Blue Jays.
4. I spent about 4 hours in Toronto about 20 years ago on a youth choir trip and have a t-shirt from the University of Toronto bookstore. I know, I'm awesome.

I'm fairly certain that these four reasons (and I could go on) more than make up for the fact that I wasn't along for their trip. I can't imagine why they didn't ask me. Enjoy.

Thursday morning started out pretty hectic as they hurried on to the Jacksonville airport. (I've no idea if they were running late, but I'm required by law to assume that any/all trips to any/all airports are behind schedule. This is a cheap device writers use to avoid describing the mundane. What's more exciting? They tore into the parking lot on two wheels, not even taking time to shut off the car and dashed to the gate just as the skyway was about to pull away from the plane. Or. They left home at the suggested 3 hours beforehand, encountered little traffic, parked near the terminal and waited for the next 2 hours until boarding began.)

So finally on the place, MB commented she couldn't believe that she was finally going to land of free health care and beer. Geraldo agreed. The plane smiled at them. Aside from the screaming child and the overweight fellow with the nasty cough (again, law requires) the flight was uneventful. Except for when MB demanded the flight attendant provide something other than Everybody Hates Chris for the in-flight entertainment. A mini-revolt was quelled and they eventually arrived in Toronto.

As most probably know from watching Don Ho or that Brady Bunch episode, when one arrives in Hawaii, one gets a lei (an unfortunate side-effect being that every comedian thinks he/she is the first to come up with a "I got lei'd in Hawaii joke. Ho, ho.). In Canada, they give all visitors a moose. I'm not really sure why or what they expect folks to do with them, but they do. Since most folk have forgotten to pack a trailer and hate moose and all that they stand for, the roadside from the airport has become a sort of haven for abandoned moose. It was at this point, that MB shed her first tear. The abandonment was disheartening, but she recovered in time to kick their own gift, Maurice, to the curb. Nature is a cruel bitch.

Figuring that some posh hotel in downtown Toronto would be what everyone was expecting, MB and Geraldo opted for a bed & breakfast in the Polish district of the city. I suppose one knows one is in a truly international city when there are nationality districts. We just have the white section and the black section around here, but we'd gladly welcome any Polish too. Aside from a lot of peeps with -ski on the end of their name and Lech Walesa monuments I don't really know what makes up Toronto's Little Poland but I'm sure it's nice.

As are the people, including the owners of the B & B, Mr. & Mrs. Jires. Geraldo had scarcely put his bags down before Mr. Jires welcomed them with some gibberish that Geraldo assumed was Polish. MB responded in French and suddenly a little Tower of Babel moment occurred. Mrs. Jires looked on with distress. "Not more French," she thought. MB won her back by telling Mrs. Jires that her pal's, Jeremy, all-time favorite film is Rosemary Baby's directed by Poland's Roman Polanski. For the next 6 hours they discussed Jeremy and why he would be so enamored with such things. A rather remarkable discussion considering that until MB and Geraldo entered their lives the Jires had no idea I existed. Luckily, MB had brought pictures and was able to bore all to death with my mundane life.

Having wasted the day's sight-seeing time discussing me, MB and Geraldo retired to their rooms wherein they found a bed, a bedpan and a wash basin as one always finds in such places. Geraldo drew some water from the sink and the two of them collapsed on the bed for a well deserved nap. It had already been a long day. More to follow...