Foooooooooottie !

Uncovering urban lifestyle, contemporary trends and other (Canadian) peculiarities from a totally biased and nonobjective European perspective. Infiltration, intrigues, wonder and more ...

"I work at Starbucks: ask me ur questions!"
"Which finger do you use to push the butten that makes the coffee?"
- [Welcome to Vancouver]

One unmovable and slightly admirable quality of the Canadians is their urge to copy everything almost but not quite like its original and then add "Canadian" as a pre or suffix. Take for example Canadian Football (suffix example would the "Football Canadian" (Canadian Football as it´s called in the French speaking part of Canadia, in case you were wondering).

You may ask if I jest - I´m not; Canadian Football is as real as the proverbial train at the end of the tunnel pretending to be light and salvation. It´s not only a lame proverbial paraphrasing but also as close as Canadian Football comes to any form of speed... more on that later.


Canadian football is basically American football with a few minor adjustments. There´s still a bunch of guys dressed up in excessive padding who run into one another to stop the other from going somewhere. There´s a grass field with a goal on each end to make the grass look pretty. Teams score by running into the "end zone" of the opposing team, whilst carrying a ball... yes, football has hardly anything to do with feet in Canada as well. There are differences compared to the American version, but they are subtle and hard to spot (aka irrelevant) to the untrained eye. But a difference is a difference, and therefore it´s not American football, so the Canadian is a happy moose again.


Mentioning Canadian Football in Vancouver,points to the home of the B.C. Lions. At about twice the size of its smaller, but more popular brother the Canucks Ice Rink, the B.C. Lions Arena dominates the southwest landscape of downtown Vancouver. Needless to say, but good to mention for the slower amongst us, it was ripe and waiting for an another insidious infiltration mission.

infiltrate the concrete composition; bonus points for finding funny looking people

Aided by the usual suspects, we arrive at the ticket booth, where we´re met with the blank stare of a teenager who hasn´t managed to escape puberty quite yet...
"Sold out" the spotty shrimp behind the counter offers.
"And what about the silver ring seats?"
Uninterested. "Sorry, we only have bronze..."
"Is that any good ?"
The shrimp looks confused and tries to make a statement. Thinking the better of it, he lamely shrugs his shoulders. First class salesman.
"I guess ... We´ll take bronze then ?"
"Whatever..." he mumbles from behind the glass wall that keeps the world outside.

Happy with our tickets, the prospect of beer, hotdogs, and a free cavity search at the entrance, we set onwards ... into an empty stadium. We look around, to see rows of empty seats, followed by more rows of empty seats. We blink and the stadium blinks back.

good times

As the cheerleaders take the field and we try to enjoy the sight of their supposedly luscious curves from our sky high bronze seats, another supporter shuffles into the stadium, followed by another one. Things really get busy as two more enter the arena on the other side. By the time the opposing team is greeted by the friendly tunes of the "imperial march", the stadium is at least at five percent of its capacity. The entrance of the Lions themselves pushes the mark to seven percent... somehow there´s a lot lost in translation of the concept of "sold out".



The intro of GnRs´ "Welcome to the Jungle" announces the kickoff, and under loud cheering of the twelve people making up the "crowd", the teams clash into another. This apparently takes so much effort that the entire team on both sides gets replaced within minutes. One minute later the game continues for a whole four seconds, after which the teams take another minute to restart the game. Here´s an impression on how exciting this is:

The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions.The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions.The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions.The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions.The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions.

Pause, thirty minutes to rest from all this excitement.

The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions. The team takes one minute to get into their positions, the ball is played, a player is tackled and another minute is spend walking back into positions.

...

In other words: If I would get paid per word, I´d go into football reporting - millionaire in two articles. In more other words, despite the victory of the BC Lions that night, the most exciting thing that happened after our hot dogs was passing through the revolving high speed doors on our way out. I´ll stick with cheering for the Canucks for a while ...

Coupland wrote the book I wanted to write and Yathzee is giving the reviews I wanted to give; good stuff if you don´t mind a million British words per minute...

Why there was no moose for Thanksgiving

Uncovering urban lifestyle, contemporary trends and other (Canadian) peculiarities from a totally biased and nonobjective European perspective. Infiltration, intrigues, wonder and more ...

"Well, like a lot of other dictators, there is one man's opinion I value above all others. Mine. And folks, I have a lot of opinions... In fact, I have so many opinions, I have overwhelmed my ability to document myself". [Stephen Colbert, I am America (and so can you!)]

Another week, another quote from the latest literary acquisition. More comedy books, as I find myself in need for a lot of additional humor lately. Since looking into the mirror doesn't quite cut it anymore after 31 years, I buy comedy books... No worries, this ain't another bluesy emo blog.


What is this man doing ? (<- Click the link) If you're answer was: "whipping cream" you lack imagination, I recommend going out more doing things you shouldn't do. If your answer was "whipping cream prior to desert on a Thanksgiving party", you probably were at the same place I was last week.

beer time ?

"Thanksgiving, or Thanksgiving Day, is a traditional North American holiday to give thanks at the conclusion of the harvest season. Canada celebrates Thanksgiving on the second Monday in October, and the United States celebrates the holiday on the fourth Thursday of November." [Wiki]

Luckily with the friends I have over here, I found myself invited to a thanksgiving party. My first Canadian Thanksgiving. Ironically, my first Canadian Thanksgiving was amongst a group of people who consisted mostly of Brits, complemented with a Japanese woman and one token Canadian. (If you feel like it, try to spot the Canadian amongst the people in these pictures. Hint: it's not this guy, nor is it her, she is the Japanese woman (1))

The Canadians celebrate thanksgiving differently from their southern neighbors. Besides celebrating it on different days, singing different songs, feeling guilty about different victims of racial genocide, the Canadians don't serve the traditional Butterballs, but meese (2).

thanksgiving requires an excessive amount of thinking

If you look close enough at the pictures provided, you will notice a shocking lack of moose meat, despite the genuine efforts of the host and hostess of the party ...

In a course of bad luck for tradition, meese hunting was outlawed in Canadia. Interesting enough, there are ways around that law. If you - by accident - run into a moose and kill it in the process, you're still free to take it home and eat it (3). After all, a dead moose is just roadkill and nothing prohibits you from eating roadkill. The downside of this loophole in legislation is that around this time it's not quite safe to cross the streets anymore with all the Canucks driving like maniacs hoping to hit a moose (or create some random roadkill; no one will note the difference, unless you hit a skunk).

Being good sports, the British organizers didn't want to miss out on this typical Canadian meese hunting tradition. They rented a cheap car that looked like it could kill a moose and set out.

The entire world outside the former empire knows the British are "different" when it comes to driving (4), most notoriously is their driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road-habit. It's a habit that's hard to kill as the driver of a Pizza delivery car found out. Just after his life flashed by and before passing out, he saw two Brits hopping out of the vehicle that was stuck in the place occupied by his engine just five minutes ago. Later in the hospital, he told investigators about the sensation of being prodded and someone saying something along the lines of "Blimey, I thought Meese looked tastier, this one isn't even dead. I say, what do we do now dear ... am I smelling pizzas ?"

And thus it came to pass that my first Canadian Thanksgiving was mooseless. Nevertheless, the lack of meese meat and the substitute pizzas didn't do anything to dampen the spirits at the party. After all there was good food, friends, songs and we had no bad conscience to deal with...

(1) Looks can be deceiving.

(2) The English language is horribly inconsistent. Why would the plural of a word change when you change the G into a M ? It makes no sense. It has to stop... and don't get me started on the subject of pronunciation.

(3) Your car will be wrecked as well; it's considered compensation on the moose's behalf.

(4) Different as in politically correct for "obviously retarded".

Who needs to see Maple leaves ?

Uncovering urban lifestyle, contemporary trends and other (Canadian) peculiarities from a totally biased and nonobjective European perspective. Infiltration, intrigues, wonder and more ...

“Cyril peered myopically at the \”Cock-A-Doodle-Doo\” in a heavy Gothic script. Somewhere in his tiny mad chicken mind a very distinct and chilly understanding formed that he'd better learn to read very, very quickly.” [1]

Pratchett's books in combination with Denny's food are somehow a great counter for hangovers. Hangovers come easily these days, all it takes is a couple of beers and my head feels like a wooden board with a serious case of woodworm. Denny's therefore has become one of those places which has a high probability of seeing me as a customer on Sunday mornings.

The Denny's at Davie is a very ordinary foodboer (*), filled with ordinary, mostly Caucasian people, eating very ordinary greasy dishes, served by Asian waiters and girls who didn't quite make it into the Cactus club (**). The interior is done by a designer inspired by the gray and brown 50s / 60s style that reigned supreme in American restaurants around that time.

gray and brown r0x0rz

“I'm like so full”, the chubby girl in the booth next to me whines to her friend. Nevertheless, in the same breath, she manages to stuff another greasy sausage and a big chunk of French bread with butter in her face. A slightly out-of-place Axl Rose comments over the speakers with a fitting “Welcome to the jungle baby”. The girl fails to notice this offhand irony and continues to ramble on how she's been playing hockey most of her life, but "omg" now she considers "like" quitting. Given the amount of food she continues to shove into her mouth, despite her being full, makes me wonder if that will do her already round figure much good... But as Axl states “You're a very sexy girl, that's very hard to please”.

An extremely refined and well kept lady enters Denny's. Followed by an incredible dorky looking, unkempt male. They take the booth across me. From what I can make out, the geekenstein proves to be her husband or lover, or very special friend who she likes to hold hands with in the Denny's. Whatever the case, it makes one wonder how some of these fine specimens of women end up with the most improbable doofballs ... Although some cases may be attributed to money, this one clearly doesn't. I should ask the SO sometimes, she'll probably can explain it from first hand experience.

on the lookout

“Are you done ?” the waitress with the eccentric hairdo demands to know.

“Done with everything except the coffee” I declare.

She nods and picks up my mug, plate, formerly filled with eggs, bacon and some French toast and sets off. After approximately one meter she halts and turns around.

“Sorry, what did you say ?” she likes to know.

Being well aware of my sometimes faster-than-light-mumbling-fashion of speech, I try in a clearer, slower way: “Yes I'm done, except for the coffee”.

She still looks puzzled.

“Me ... Done ... want coffee” I try.

“Oh okay, yes, I'm sorry, I'm French speaking”.

“No worries, no one is perfect” I offer with a smile “I'm Dutch”.

She seems to consider this for a moment, after which her memory prompts her to ask if I'd like more coffee. I tell her no thanks, I have enough material for my blog... more puzzled looks.

Content with a belly full of greasy substances, I set off to take a walk along the sea wall towards Stanley Park, hopefully burning some of that fat and making some pictures of the beautiful Vancouver Autumn scenery. A scenery which was originally the topic of this week's blog... But who needs pretty pictures of trees burning red when you have Denny's and Pratchet?

not the topic of this blog

(*) "Boer" literally means farmer in Dutch. Adding "boer" to a word usually indicates an establishment providing very common, unsophisticated goods or services, e.g. furnitureboer (IKEA) or consultancyboer (IBM).

(**) The Cactus club is a Yaletown Burgerboer that's known for its incredibly hot staff in short skirts. The male variant is rumored to make distinguished (female) lawyers wink involuntarily.

[1]Terry Pratchet, Reaper Man

book unrecommendation:

"How Ann Coulter is cute in the same way D.Duck is cute when he's angry and upset."

Giving it a away for free.