Woe Canada..?

Despite what I was saying about perspective yesterday, Canada's loss to the United States in the Olympic ice hockey was most certainly a devastating blow to the country. Team Canada can still make it to the last eight if they beat Germany on Tuesday - which they should - but the public's faith in their ability to bring home the gold has been severely shaken.

When results are compared to pre-Games predictions it's not been a good Olympics at all for Canada thus far - indeed, the Canadian Olympic Committee admitted this morning that the five year, $117 million 'Own The Podium' program had missed its mark - but Canada still has four golds, and with a realistic prospect of at least four more to come in ice dance, women's hockey and both men's and women's curling, there is every chance of overhauling the record of seven that was set in Salt Lake City in 2002 and then equalled four years ago in Turin.

Canada is not a large country in terms of population, and the despondency being shown in light of America's dominance of the medal table is totally unfounded. The home athletes at these Games have been put under immense pressure to perform by the media, the public and the aforementioned Own The Podium program, and as is so often the case back in Britain, as much attention is being given to failure as it is to success.

So, let's see where we are this time next week, and then let's judge how the Games have gone. After all, patience is a virtue...

Living in an Amish paradise

So, was it Gettysburg or Hershey's world of chocolate? As educated, erudite educationalists, there was really only one choice:

We did look at going to Gettysburg, but we couldn't find the address.

After a confectionery filled morning we began the drive home, and along the way we made a diversion that took us into the heart of Amish country. After taking out some money at a bank that had posts in the car park to tie up your horses (and enough horse shit to prove that the facilities were used on a regular basis - I guess some of the Amish must be stinking rich), we had lunch in the quaintly named town of Bird-in-Hand; this was going to be our last stop in Pennsylvania, but about half an hour later we found ourselves in the middle of Intercourse and we simply had to pull over...

Got you! But really, who calls their town 'Intercourse'? Joking aside, our little dip into Amish culture was an interesting experience; we were surprised to see that a number of the Amish lived in houses adorned with satellite dishes, and we were left wondering whether the folks of Bird-in-Hand and Intercourse placed more emphasis on the 'ish' rather than the 'Am'.

Eight hours later we were home, and although we've had a quiet week since, we have a few more adventures lined up for next week, but that's another story...

Hello again!

I'm still here, but since Melanie arrived a couple of weeks ago I've hardly been at the computer. The days preceding her arrival were spent in a frenzied attempt to make the apartment look presentable, and since then we've had a fine time being busy doing nothing. It's been great spending some time together after three months apart, and I'm trying to put the fact that I have to return North in a little over two weeks firmly to the back of my mind.

Now, I say we've been busy doing nothing but that's not strictly true, because over this last weekend we spent a hectic, yet hugely enjoyable, couple of days in the States. It was my second road trip into America this summer following on from Dave and Gid's Excellent Adventure last month, and we actually travelled many of the same roads as on that journey, although this time there was no giant cutlery to be seen.

When Mel went to the Hard Rock Calling event in London, one of the acts she saw was the Dave Matthews Band, and ever since then she's developed into something of a fan and wanted me to see them live too. The nearest place we could get tickets was for their date in Hershey, Pennsylvania (home of the chocolate bars), and on Friday we drove all the way down - a journey of about 600km - and caught their show in the evening. By all accounts it wasn't one of their best performances but we enjoyed ourselves, and if you have a few minutes spare I suggest you take in this performance of Funny The Way It Is from the show:

I should probably explain the reference to cow shit at the beginning of the clip. Hershey is renowned for two things - its chocolate and its cows - and Dave Matthews' opening line of the evening was "Hershey - tastes like chocolate, smells like cow shit," a state of affairs of which he reminded us at regular intervals from thereon in. We didn't actually take the film ourselves, but it was shot from roughly where we were sitting, and it may also be of interest to the group of girls who were sitting near us as they saw very little of the show. They were in their late teens/early twenties, and they spent virtually the entire time the band the were on stage either on the phone or texting. Perhaps that's what people do nowadays, but I don't see the point in forking out for a ticket and then spending your time completely ignoring what you've paid to see. This might work for Celine Dion or Mariah Carey, but otherwise I just don't get it.

We spent the night in a hotel just outside of Hershey, and the next day we decided to do some sightseeing. Historic Gettysburg was just a short trip from where we were staying, and we were torn between visiting an iconic location in American history or a chocolate factory; I'll let you know what we decided in the next post...

Happy Birthday Canada

It's Canada Day today, the day that the nation celebrates its birthday. Everybody gets a day off, and there are parades, fireworks and beer, although not necessarily in that order; indeed, if the beer comes first then the other two may not materialise at all or, if they do, the results may well be interesting and possibly life threatening to boot.

I've been celebrating by being even more lazy than usual, and I've been embracing my Canadian-ness by watching the all-day Corner Gas marathon on the Comedy Channel, although I will probably peel myself off the couch to go and see the fireworks in town this evening; I hope that the beer hasn't come first in this instance.

Most people here are surprised when I explain that there is no equivalent of a 'national day' in the UK, and that surprise turns to disbelief when I regale them with stories of Brits who are banned from flying the Cross of St George or the Union Jack for fear of offending immigrants or because they might constitute a health hazard. That would simply never happen here; Canadian flags are proudly flown all year round - gladly without the gung-ho approach that you so often see in the States - and the national anthem is sung every morning in the nation's schools.

Despite what I said recently about Canada being a 'collection of thirteen independent nations', the notion of being Canadian still binds its population together - well, maybe not in Quebec - with a closeness that is fast disappearing in the UK, and that's one of the reasons that I like living in Canada. Patriotism is not a dirty word here, so happy Canada Day to you all, and to all a good night!

Dave & Gid's Excellent Adventure

It's been a busy week on Planet Gideon, with road trips, concerts, and summer fêtes all competing for attention since I last posted. Sunday is certainly proving to be a day a rest, and I can now fill you in on said events.

My road trip with Dave took in 2000km, three U.S. states and one shining example of roadside gigantism (hurrah!). We travelled east through New York state, south through Vermont, back into New York, then further south into Pennsylvania before finally heading back north up the I81 through New York state again, thus completing a full circle, or ovoid, of Stateside shenanigans.

During our trip we visited Burlington, Vermont, which is the home of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. The factory tour allowed us to act like complete tourists - which I suppose we were - and whilst we were in the area we also took in the arctophile's delight that is the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory (rock 'n' roll, eh?).

Whilst in downtown Burlington we also had a brush with U.S. law enforcement. On returning to the car we found an envelope marked 'Burlington Police Department' under the wiper blade, and immediately thought that our Canadian number plates had invoked the wrath of the local constabulary. However, the contents of said envelope revealed that we had in fact been commended on leaving our vehicle in a secure state with nothing to attract any would-be criminals. The fact that the back of the car was crammed with cases, sleeping bags and maps which screamed 'we are tourists: please rob us!' seemed to have escaped the notice of the officers on duty. Either that, or the Burlington P.D. is the most sarcastic police department in North America.

(click to enlarge)

Happily unrobbed, we were able to continue our trip onwards, finding along the way the house where Dave used to live as a young child in the city of Wilkes-Barre, PA. However, the undoubted highlight of the entire trip was to be found at a fork in the road between the small towns of Red Hook and Rhinebeck, NY, where we encountered - what else would you expect? - a giant fork. Forget Niagara Falls, forget the Grand Canyon, forget Machu Picchu - this is what sightseeing is all about!

Once you have basked in the awesome shadow cast by such a fine example of oversized cutlery it is difficult to move on; the mind needs time to readjust itself back to the constraints of normality. The remainder of our trip was consequently spent in a state of higher-plane contemplation (as well as the states of New York, Vermont and Pennsylvania) and only now has my inner being managed to content itself once again with the relative mundaneness of everyday life. After such an experience, it is difficult to plan where one goes next, but plan one must.

Tim Hortons anyone?

Obama's millions

What would you do with a million dollars?

What would you do if you had a million dollars to spend every day?

What would you do if you had a million dollars to spend each and every day for a whole year?

The mind starts to boggle, doesn't it?

Now imagine being able to spend a million dollars, every day of every year, from the birth of Christ right up to the present day.

If you did that, you'd have racked up a ludicrous amount of air miles, but you still wouldn't have spent as much as the U.S. government is spending on its financial bailout package.

Suddenly my credit card bill doesn't seem so bad.

Superblow Sunday

No, that's not a typing error...

It was Superbowl Sunday yesterday, the day on which the moniker 'world champions' is handed out to an American team for triumphing over another American team after a season long struggle to defeat a whole bunch of other American teams.

Now, whilst I must admit that the game itself was actually quite exciting, the two undoubted highlights most certainly did not involve the players or the play. The first came at halftime, when Bruce Springsteen took centre stage for 12 glorious minutes - oh that the game had been the halftime show to three hours of The Boss - and the second came in the fourth and final quarter, just after Larry Fitzgerald had scored for the Arizona Cardinals.

Cable viewers in Tucson, Arizona, were suddenly treated to 30 seconds of unannounced (and presumably unplanned) hardcore porn, showing a woman unzipping a man's trousers followed by a graphic act between the two. Whilst most viewers would have been outraged and some may have been pleasantly surprised, at least one person was simply bemused:

"I just figured it was another commercial until I looked up," viewer Cora King told the Arizona Daily Star.

"Then he did his little dance with everything hanging out."

Told you I didn't need to check my typing.

Hello Goodbye

So, America finally has its first Irish President in the shape of Barack O'Bama....sorry, what's that? Oh, apparently that's not right, but whatever the heritage of the new Commander-in-Chief, today was certainly a momentous day in history. Obama was suitably statesman-like, Aretha Franklin put a whole new spin on God Save The Queen and George Bush just looked plain bewildered by the whole affair; the whole notion of people actually cheering in his presence must have been a most novel experience.

Apparently it's traditional for the outgoing President to leave a note tucked inside the desk in the Oval Office for the new incumbent. I have it on good authority that the note left by Bush was written in crayon and consisted of the following short message:

'Tag - you're it! And no tag-backs.'

God bless America.

Happy Christmas

Well, it's almost midnight on Christmas Eve, and I don't know what's more desperate; me writing this post or you reading it! We've been following Santa's progress all evening courtesy of NORAD, and as I write he's merrily flying over Guantanamo Bay (really!). Good job Santa has worldwide clearance, because otherwise you can bet he wouldn't make it out of American airspace. Shoot first, open presents later.

It's blowing a gale here at the moment, and in true British tradition it's also pouring with rain. Incredibly, the snow I wrote about only a couple of days ago has all gone, at least in our locale, and it looks as though I won't have to dig out the car tomorrow before we head out for Christmas lunch; maybe I'll even get to drive. We're headed out to our Australian friends, Tarni and Dave, for Christmas dinner, where a good time should be had by all as another turkey is thrown on the barbie.

NORAD now informs me that Santa is headed our way, so I'd better get to bed because he knows when you are sleeping and he knows when you're awake, which is quite creepy if you stop to think about it. I shouldn't worry though; an air strike courtesy of Uncle Sam is never too far away if things get ugly.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

A breach of elf and safety?

It's snowing as I write (surprise, surprise!), and it's -25°C outside. Looking out the window, I've just seen the same woman walk past for the third time, a bit like when you watch a chase scene in an old Tom & Jerry or Scooby Doo cartoon and the same piece of background keeps coming around and around again. If she passes by for a fourth time, I shall be on the lookout for Shaggy and Scoobs.

But I digest.

The real reason I put virtual pen to virtual paper today is to share with you news of the demise of one of the UK's 'finest' theme parks. Lapland New Forest, situated on the Hampshire-Dorset border in the south of England, has recently been forced to close its doors due to the fact that it didn't really deliver what it promised. Its advertisement depicted a snow-covered Lapland village with Hollywood special effects, a Nativity scene and a bustling Christmas market with an ice rink, but when the public - who had to pay up to £30 (about $55) for a ticket - arrived, the ice rink was broken, the huskies and reindeer were chained up in pens, the market was four stalls in a tent and the Nativity scene was a picture on a painted wall that could only be viewed after crossing a muddy field.

As the complaints flooded in, the Park's owner, Henry Mears, stated that "six of our staff - three elves and three security - have been assaulted and all have been verbally abused," and to cap it all Santa, who at one stage was found sneaking a quick cigarette outside his grotto, was punched in the head by an irate father who'd had to queue up for over four hours only to be told that he couldn't take a picture of his children and that they weren't allowed to sit on Santa's lap. Oh, and they'd have to get in another queue to get their presents.

I think that the lesson to be learned here is that theme parks should be left to the Americans, as they simply do them so much better, much in the way they excel at opening ceremonies at major sporting events, building cars that no-one wants and destroying the world's economy.

Pass the eggnog.

Only In America

As I write, I am watching the annual Rochester Christmas Parade on TV. It's rather wonderful entertainment...the 'Older People's Commission' float has just driven by, featuring "representatives of the Commission lip-synching to a variety of all your Christmas favourites."

Oh, here comes a line of Clydesdale horses: "what says holiday better than Clydesdales?", comments the announcer. Would she like a list? And here is the Holy Family school float, with a 'Live Nativity Scene'...Push, push...I think I can see a head!

And to cap it all, as the programme came back from commercials, with the announcer proclaiming, "welcome back; you can feel the sun, you can feel the holiday spirit here," what was passing by on screen?

A tank.

Ain't that America?