In days of yore, from Britain’s shore,
Wolfe, the dauntless hero, came
And planted firm Britannia’s flag
On Canada’s fair domain.
Here may it wave, our boast and pride
And, joined in love together,
The thistle, shamrock, rose entwine
The Maple Leaf forever!

Chorus:
The Maple Leaf, our emblem dear,
The Maple Leaf forever!
God save our Queen and Heaven bless
The Maple Leaf forever!

At Queenston Heights and Lundy’s Lane,
Our brave fathers, side by side,
For freedom, homes and loved ones dear,
Firmly stood and nobly died;
And those dear rights which they maintained,
We swear to yield them never!
Our watchword evermore shall be
“The Maple Leaf forever!”

Chorus

Our fair Dominion now extends
From Cape Race to Nootka Sound;
May peace forever be our lot,
And plenteous store abound:
And may those ties of love be ours
Which discord cannot sever,
And flourish green o’er freedom’s home
The Maple Leaf forever!

Chorus

On merry England’s far famed land
May kind heaven sweetly smile,
God bless old Scotland evermore
and Ireland’s Em’rald Isle!
And swell the song both loud and long
Till rocks and forest quiver!
God save our Queen and Heaven bless
The Maple Leaf forever!

Chorus

Recently, the genius known as “Nathaniel Tapley” was made known to me. He introduced himself by saying “Hi there! I’m Nathaniel Tapley. I’m a Comedy Genius©!” Yes, it was made simple for me, what with my uncontrollable defect of being born a Canadian.

That birth location is in fact what brings up this post today. I was born in Kamloops, British Columbia. The Royal Inland Hospital is still there, but the wing of the building is no longer standing. You can locate the foundations of it in the lawn, but it’s not very picturesque, and as I was born about four or five floors above that, it’s impossible to be on the very spot of the incident, so why bother?

Why am I babbling about this? A fair question, and well put.

I am more popular among my Kamloops Birthmates than Nathaniel Tapley was with his own of Essex!, as he was declared the fourth least popular. Behold my accomplishment (although clicking the image to make it bigger might help):

That’s me, way down there, at #16, right above baldy. The interesting thing is that the most popular on the list – the guy at the bottom – is someone who played “Guard #1″ in a movie in which I appeared as one of a crowd of people at a wedding scene which was interrupted by the titular villain (which was played during filming by a helicopter hovering close enough above our heads that someone actually reached-up and touched the runners at one point; given we were in the middle of the towers of downtown at the time, it’s a good thing the pilot was a professional).

At the moment, Mr. Tapley is no longer #4 in his list, having moved up the list now declaring him the 148^th Least Popular person. One can only hope to follow his example by being humbled before being raised – Lazarus-like – to new heights.

Isn’t it fascinating what one can accomplish with too much coffee and a broadband connection?

More about the recent trip to the UK soon, once the caffeine wears off, probably.

While one doesn’t actually like worrying, or even having some worry to cast aside from one’s awareness (as satisfactory as command of one’s concerns might be), there are a few things which have made themselves know over the past couple of days.

There is, for instance, the possibility of a strike by both the Network Rail and the Rail Maritime and Transport unions in England come Easter Weekend that could result in the UK’s collective inter-city rail system coming to a screaming halt, although they’re discussing ways to avoid this taking place. There’s been some pondering amongst some about whether this will have an effect on the number of people attending Odyssey 2010 (AKA: “EasterCon”), but I’m using the tube to get to Heathrow at that point on the calendar. ‘All good’, then.

British Airways is having labour trouble right now, wherein striking cabin crews have forced BA to cancel 1,100 flights, but I’m flying both to and from England on Air Canada. Fine there as well.

So… when this week’s episode of the Rick Mercer Report shows the following satirical commercial, fear enters my soul at the prospect of the following taking place in the middle of the afternoon tomorrow.

It’s probable that this ‘bit’ was created by Mr. Mercer as a reaction to being bumped from one domestic flight to another while travelling around Canada for the show. There’s been a few times I’ve heard of them cancelling FLIGHT-A and then putting those people onto FLIGHT-B so as to make a full compliment of passengers, which is fine in theory, but then why bother offering the additional flight in the first place? If there’s not sufficient trade for the offering of both flights, then it’s simply false advertising to say “we fly from Winnipeg to Vancouver 17 times a day!” and then cancel over half of them, isn’t it?

This doesn’t necessarily mean a damned thing about my flight from Vancouver to London, however. There’s a considerable difference between, for instance, flying from Toronto to Boston and flying across the entire Polar Region and North Atlantic. Perhaps there’s some sort of requirement for Air Canada to offer a particular number of domestic flights from one particular area to another in order to get their approval to fly to however many international centres they desire to serve. Anyone out there have any ideas about this? Is there an additional aspect to this based entirely on the fact that the people responsible for schedules are as thick as concrete on a hot day?

I’m planning of arriving as soon-ish as possible at the airport; that way they’ve less chance to do me out of a seat, even though the tickets have been paid for and reserved for weeks. The earlier you’re there, the better the possibility that the flight is not already fully assigned, making you SOL. Perhaps I really ought to have arrived there last Friday…?

One thing I will get to experience is the embarrassment of having someone call upstairs to make sure it’s alright to let me on the plane. This has happened both times I’ve flown, and at each end of the voyage: arrive at check-in, provide ticket details and passport, state no real preference about seating (other than ‘as far away from the drunken louts as possible’), wait patiently as we whip through a list of things no-one should ever say ‘yes’ to, even if true (have you left your luggage unattended for any length of time? were you approached by anyone asking you to transport something for them? did you agree? is there anything explosive in your bags? are you secreting heroin in your anal cavity? are you planning on doing any performance art whilst at your destination featuring inflatable donkeys, nudity, or both?), have the baggage weighed, then wait… and wait… while the poor soul behind the desk tries to figure out whether or not to explain that there’s a bloody huge red box flashing on their screen saying THIS PERSON IS ON A LIST OF PEOPLE WHO, WHEN FLYING, SOMEONE IMPORTANT HAS TO BE TOLD ABOUT IT. Typically the ticketing person has explained that they’ve got to call Security because they randomly are asked to do so (although the point of that process has never been stated), ask if I reserved my flight using my full name (I always do that for anything, not just flights), or simply look at me to check there’s not some odd bulge under my jacket that’s vaguely shaped like a side-arm and then run screaming for the door into their office.

Granted, the English author Michael Marshall Smith gets hauled into one of the interview rooms every time he goes to the USA, so I suppose the telephone call is the least of my concerns. Why I’m flagged is beyond me. I have no criminal record, I’ve never served in the Armed Forces, and have only occasionally called for the overthrow of a government (typically advocating for the use of a UN-approved democratic process).

The main worry right now is counting numbers of socks and boxer shorts, then determining how much everything weighs. My main piece of luggage allows for fifty pounds (50 LBS), which ought to be enough for anyone as tiny as myself. Even allowing for the promotional material being taken, I should be fine.

Something new to this trip is that one small piece of luggage goes with you into the cabin, one piece of luggage is checked and stored in the belly of the æroplane, and the third piece of luggage doesn’t go into the belly as usual but instead goes with you into the cabin. This seems… well, odd. If this is safety-based, one would think that it would be ‘safer’ to have as much of one’s stuff go into the belly where people can’t get at it, and just make sure someone scans the crap out of it before loading anything. If scanning is more stringent for carry-on baggage, then why are you letting me put anything in the cargo hold? On the other hand, perhaps the whole thing is based on balance, and putting more weight in the vertical centre of the tube… makes it… easier to fly… the aircraft…?

Please don’t try that bit of logic at home. I am not an æronautical engineer, nor have I even played one on TV.

Jennifer is driving me out to the airport to see me off properly. Nice. Frankly, I’d rather use the Canada Line, if only to be able to say that I went from the house to my hotel in London – door-to-door – without using an automobile, but that can be accomplished on the return.

Now… to check the dryer for more socks so I can stop worrying about finding somewhere to buy some there…

Having proved last week that we don’t have winter, and our Spring is both incredible, as well as just as incredibly unpredictable as anywhere else in the world, let us reaffirm the stereotype that Canada is nought but wind-swept tundra with today’s photos, preceded by a topical quotation from A.E. Housman [1859 – 1936]:

About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow

–“A Shropshire Lad” [1896]; Nº2, st. iii

I wonder what the people in the Canadian Maritimes are doing right now…? Probably giggling at us, I suspect.

Having proved last month during the Winter Olympics that February around here is as unpredictable as anywhere else in the world (Calgary also had to truck-in snow in 1988), let us put to rest the stereotype that Canada is nought but wind-swept tundra with today’s photos, preceded by a topical quotation from the Bard of Avon:

Daffodils
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.

–“The Winter’s Tale” [1610 – 1611]; Act IV, sc iii, 118

I wonder what the people in the Canadian Maritimes are doing right now…?