Tag Archives: hockey

by Raymond Alexander Kukkee   [caption id="attachment_765" align="aligncenter" width="584"] Our last big storm, 2009[/caption] The big storm.  Oh, my...let the whining begin. It could be fairly  argued that Canadians, in fact a great number of  North Americans, have become softer in the last few decades, perhaps even becoming winter wimps and worse.  "Where are the real Canadians?" blogger Conny Manero asks in her blog "Under the Toronto Sun". I have to agree with her.  Up here in Northwestern Ontario, 900 miles northwest of Conny, and in most rural areas,  bad weather comes, 3' of snow or not, we deal with it. Whiteout conditions, we deal with it.  Square-tire -45ºC , frozen batteries, locks and butts, icy roads, snowbanks, road salt and all, we deal with it. We're Canadians. Tough. Used to winter.  Nemo or not.   We walked to school in snow up to our chests.  Our grandfather(s) invented snowplows so woosies could drive to Bay Street  on  February summer-bare roads instead of having to emulate real Canadians,  those guys driving the old farm team  belly-deep in snow 30 miles to deliver wagon-loads of  food to cities.  That figures.  We always make it easier for whiners to do less, live softer, cushier lives,  and complain more. Connie loves the snow,  which is an anomaly,  her being  from South Africa of course. South Africa the warm.   She  is an exception; she doesn't mind walking in snow up to Timmins Regina, yes,  walking in the icy cold stuff, slippery, with the inevitable slipping, sliding, falling down, frozen fingers, or even a frozen forehead. How about some nice, blowing slow that stings exposed skin. Snow in her boots? Conny revels in it.  She says bring it on,  she loves snow. She loves winter. Regardless,  always being alert and aware,  Connie has observed a dearth of real Canadians;   it seems now in Toronto she is totally surrounded  by  all-season,  'snow-tireless' -useless  slippery-slidey-fall-down-and-cry -call-in-the-army  Torontonians that still want to drive 110km/r on Hwy 401,  foolish and worse, "smartly or not", let us politely say,  on their  liver-slick summer tires all the way to slip-slidey Timmy's instantly-plowed parking-lot  for a latte, cappuccino, and a fancy glazed doughnut. Connie, of course, is referring to the whining, woosie, faint-at-heart imports and deteriorated, soft third-generation compulsive live-in-the-mall-crawlers,  who wear toques when it gets below 22ºC.  And whine. And fall down and get cold too.  And complain. Snowflakes are falling!  The din, the din! " What a mess we're in" is the chorus. Oh, please. Let me pull the Canadian  flaps down over my ears. This is Canada. If you don't like snow, if you can't manage it,  contemplate this as you sip that  Cappuccino el Grande.... drink some real black coffee instead,  get snow tires, buck up, get out of the shopping malls,   and give it the old Canadian try. Play some hockey while you're at it.

Wimps and worse

Failing that, off to Texas  or Mexico you go,  where orange trees grow, and there IS no snow.  How about that for wonderful, poetic  logic?  If nothing else, it would save us the incessant cacophony  of whining as our shovels bite through that packed, wonderful stuff we Canadians call snow.  Our Canadian Inuit might have a gazillion words for snow, "S-N-O-W" as we call it,   --and we love it!  We're real Canadians, and yes, we do exist. Really!   Thanks Conny! Be safe and enjoy the snowstorm while it lasts!   Is that Incoming I hear?  +