Yeah I'll stand on guard for thee...all my shit's here anyway

Patriotism. What is it? What does it mean? Who gets it right? Where are my pants? All very valid and complicated questions. Also, these are questions I believe the masses should maybe invest a little more time in solving. For most, it seems to be a very simple and straightforward concept. They seem to grasp the ideal and run with it because they feel the have to. They raise flags, sing anthems, and pledge allegiances so as not to upset the apple cart. A fallacy methinks and a dangerous one at that.

Now, before I continue, let me just say that I am a very happy and content individual to have been born and bred in possibly one of the best countries on the planet. The atmosphere is pretty non-stressful, the people and their ideals are second to none, the weather is eclectic and character building, and the taxes, though steep, provide a very strong and responsible infrastructure for a healthy and tolerant existence. So overall, I'm very happy. Proud, not really. Incredibly lucky? You betcha. I'm lucky to have been born here. To be able to reside and grow here. But all the above perks of living in Canada had very little to do with me. Almost zero (taxes notwithstanding). So, how can I really be proud?

Pride, for me anyway, comes from a sense of personal accomplishment. If I created the first leopard print Snuggie or some sort of Giraffe turtleneck, then yes, I would be peacocking on a regular basis (and with good reason!). But to say I'm proud to be Canadian? No, sir. Sorry. Pride just isn't the right word. I'm happy that I'm Canadian. I most likely wouldn't want to be anything else when it comes to countries of origin. But pride has nothing to do with it. Luck and serendipity do. (Serendipity do! That's fun to say.)

Why do you have to automatically be proud of where you're from? Why do you have to represent without question? This blinds you from seeing the things that are wrong, need changing, and could make the place you're from so much better. The way some Canadians carry on about how they think Canadians should be as "patriotic" as Americans are baffles me. Why? What should they be so proud about? The decline of their country? The ignorant way their citizens are treated by their government? Being a powerful and influential country that fucks things up on the regular? Put the flags down, halt the parades, extinguish the fireworks, and make things better. That's true patriotism. If you love your country, help her out. I know people who's main sense of country pride lies in the sunny beaches and warm climate of their home country. Never mind that the children carry uzis and that the poverty rate is upwards of 80%. Hey we've got palm trees. Look at them! I'm wearing shorts in February!! What a paradise. Or places where the history is eons old. Just look at our old churches! Shame that our subtle racism is alienating almost half our population now. But churches look! Old ones!!

Come on people. What's with all of this misplaced pride and swagger? Is it overcompensation? Or maybe it's segregated societies needing something to feel overly good about. Let's try a little humility for a change. It's more fundamentally human and it definitely affects more positive changes. If you need to take pride in something, take pride in the pursuit of making the countries we love into what they can be. Let's take pride in the differences we've made and problems we've corrected not just because of our geographical station. That's my definition of patriotism. Where even the smallest contribution should be worthy of a flag wave or two. Let's show the world what great places we've made of our countries because we're happy and we care. Now that's true patriot love. That would be something to be proud of.

Good night, sweet squirrel...

(Coming home for Thanksgiving on Monday, I accidentally hit a squirrel while driving and ended his life. Regardless of all the road kill I have observed over the years, this was the first and only time I had contributed to the pavement graveyard. It's still affecting me. Therefore, this is a eulogy to the poor, unfortunate animal I sent off to rodent heaven.)

Dear Mordecai (this is what I named him),

I write this and you are gone. Please understand that it was never my intention to end your time on this plane of existence. Your life and being was just as important as mine and I believe that your stature and lack of understanding of large motor vehicles and the destruction they can cause was neither your fault nor your responsibility. I only wish you had thought better of dashing across Finch Avenue just as my car was proceeding eastward.

I can't say I know why you did this. I like to think that it was the actions of an animal who was at the end of his rope. I like to think that it was an intentional move spurred on by an unhappy life, maybe a tumultuous existence, or perhaps a depressing time of year (the holidays can be rough on us all). At least then I could envision that my unintentional snuffing out of your acorn gathering life was not so much a tragedy but a cure for your sadness. The fluffy tail sometimes does not tell the full story and although the sadness this scenario evokes is still very substantial, I might be able to come to terms with the fact that I might have helped in some small way. If this is the case I guess I can be happy that even though I warned you from the inside of my vehicle: "Fuck off squirrel. Don't do it idiot. Don't...don't...DON"T. AHHH you little fucker!", you still chose me to be your rescuer from the torment of life in the trees.

All this being said Mordecai, I wish you a peaceful, restful afterlife. May the place your little soul has been carried to be free from dogs and other strange and pointless predators. May the nuts flow like wine and the treetops be tall and branchy. May winter never come and summer never leave. And may the opportunity to run up to the side of any road, pause for a second, wait for a car to come along to kill you, run out underneath it's tires, make the driver a murderer, and end up the main ingredient in a redneck's thanksgiving stew, never appear. May your rolling carcass on the road continue the journey up to paradise.

I'm sorry my furry friend. Farewell and Goodbye.

P.S.

My car is now making a fucked up noise and I'm pretty sure it has something to do with your skull bouncing off my undercarriage you little bastard!

Mordecai the idiot
?-2010