However, Red IS Canada's National Colour

The ever-vigilant CBC has provided us with an important story regarding a boy who was has been bullied for being Canadian.

From the article:

A 15-year-old boy in Upstate New York alleges that two of his teachers teased him so much about being Canadian that he became depressed, prompting his mother to pull him out of school.

“They’d say things like ‘Canada’s full of communists. They club baby seals. That my opinion doesn’t really matter because I’m a Canadian,’” Noah Kilpatrick said by phone from Watertown, N.Y.

When I first skimmed this article (I'm on an intellectual diet so I only digest skimmed words), I thought the instigators were the boy's classmates. But it was the teachers who were the culprits. You would think adults would know better, but then you look at the state of the world and... Oh well.

Nonetheless, we here at Snow Shoveling In Canada would like young Noah to know that we have his back. We are here to defend all Canadians from such insults, and to inform and educate others about our country.

First of all, we are not a bunch of communists. The last time I checked, Stephen Harper and his Conservatives were still the governing federal party in Canada. But — in all fairness to the pubescent and post-pubescent persecutors from Watertown — compared to the U.S. Republicans, our Tories are a bunch of pinko reactionaries. When you throw in the Liberals, the Bloc Québécois, and the NDP, Canada would seem to be virtually FULL of communists.

It is just a coincidence our intrepid RCMP have red uniforms, and that our flag is half red, and that one of Canada's national emblems, the beaver, is a notoriously social animal.

Nonetheless, if the Americans tease us enough, we are prepared to spread our socialist agenda like a red plague and contaminate the States with our Bolshevist ideology. That'll serve 'em right. BAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!

Now to this business of bashing little pinnipeds. Personally, I’ve never clubbed a baby seal. None of my friends or relatives have either, as far as I know. However, we have been known to quite frequently venture onto the ice and hammer the hell out of each other with sickle-like sticks. This practice is known as "Ice Hockey" and has been designated as Canada's official winter sport. Canada's official summer sport is Lacrosse, wherein we use an even heavier chunk of lumber to beat the maple syrup out of each other on the grass or concrete.

Come to think of it, that tyke might have done well to advise his American teachers and classmates of the Canadian penchant for using wooden objects to clobber people. They might have thought twice about picking on him.

Would-be bullies should also be aware that many Canadians like to wield smaller pieces of wood with chopping blades attached. These are the axes of the myriad of lumberjacks who populate our country. Attention Watertown educators and schoolchildren: Consider your next words to a Canadian carefully lest you receive a visit from a gang of angry Paul Bunyanesque loggers.

ANOTHER DAY AT THE OFFICE FOR A TYPICAL CANADIAN 

(IN HIS FAVORITE FAVOURITE RED SHIRT)

CANADA'S FEDERAL POLICE FORCE COMING AT YOU IN A SEA OF RED

 ADMITTEDLY, OUR HORSES WILL SOMETIMES WEAR RED

ONE OF OUR NATIONAL EMBLEMS ADORNED IN A POPULAR CANADIAN COLOR COLOUR

WE CANNOT SAY WITH ANY CERTAINTY THAT THERE ARE ABSOLUTELY NO COMMUNISTS IN CANADA

OK. Enough with the Canadian stereotypes. I must say goodbye for now. It's time to lock up the ol' igloo and head to work. Now where did I leave my axe?

Mangled Mailboxes, Elevator Survival, and Schnauzers

I'd like to begin this post with some advice that I recently gave to a Facebook friend.

She was bemoaning the fact that her mailbox was the target of baseball bat wielding thugs. She asked, "What did my mailbox ever do to them?"

I replied, "It’s not what the mailbox did. It’s what it represents. You see, the average mailbox — even an empty one or one consisting of just junk mail — contains more information than is stored in the average vandal’s brain. The envious mailbox smasher, being naturally devoid of reason, feels that he/she must resort to physical means to destroy that which is a very real threat to their intelligence".

I know there are some Minikinites who will undoubtedly be enlightened by that message. The mailboxes around here are so rusty, weather-beaten, battered, and bashed that we have the expression, "As mangled as a Minikin mailbox".

A STANDARD OLD MAILBOX JUST CANNOT HANDLE

THE DESTRUCTIVE DEEDS OF A MINIKIN VANDAL

And now, the "news":

Here’s an interesting item:

VIENNA - The Swedish manager of an Austrian hotel was trapped in a faulty elevator for four days before a bread delivery man heard his cries for help on Friday, police said.

The 58-year-old was in good physical condition after his ordeal in the spa town of Bad Gastein near Salzburg, police in the mountainous Austrian province said.

“He told police he had done a hunting course with survival training in the Swedish military, which stood him in good stead in this case,” a police statement said.

Before I get into the elevator survival business, I just want to mention the town that this allegedly took place in — Bad Gastein.

BAD GAStein??? In a spa town? I think it might be a good idea to change the town's name to Good Healthstein. Personally, I've always avoided spas when I have bad gas.

Anyway, after reading this article, I was puzzled because I wasn't sure how a hunting course with survival training would help someone stuck in an elevator. I've read a few survival guides and not once did I find a section on elevator emergencies.

How does one's knowledge of nutritious plants and roots come into play in such a situation? What difference does it make if you know how to build a lean-to when you are out of the elements and stuck in an enclosed 27 square foot room? Aside from Tarzan's tree vine, devices for up-and-down travel are rarely found in the woods or jungle.

It could all be an Internet hoax. Where would you find a hotel in Austria — or anywhere for that matter — that would be completely deserted for four days? This is supposedly a spa town full of tourists. But here we have no guests, no visitors, no maintenance workers, no vagrants or burglars; nothing except a solitary bread delivery man after four days! And why was the bread guy delivering his wares to an unoccupied or derelict building?

This all smells rather fishy. Could it be a publicity stunt pulled off by the “victim" in order to gain fame and fortune? He may be trying to sell a book.

Here are some examples of what that book — let’s call it Bjorn Bjorkerson’s Guide To Elevator Survival — might contain:

"Firstly, we will assume that you are not a complete doofus and have already pressed the alarm button and tried the elevator phone. Secondly, we must assume that you are not a tech savvy person and that you do not carry a cell phone. Thirdly, we will assume that you've already created a ruckus by yelling and screaming and pounding on the doors..."

"Go hunting for spiders hanging from webs in the corner of the elevator car. Track down fleas, ticks, and tiny microbes from your body..."

"If you know that your day will include some vertical traveling, wear edible clothing. Remember however that when help does arrive you may be naked — sated and in good health, but naked..."

"I learned in the Swedish military service that you MUST keep a Swiss Army Knife with you at all times, particularly if you plan to manage a multi-story hotel in Austria..."

"Use your Swiss Army Knife and unscrew that sign that says, “Maximum capacity not to exceed 16 persons”. Then, using the little saw blade, cut it into pieces to use as firewood (if you do not have a match or lighter, you will have to rub two pieces of the sign together to start your fire). Then, using the tiny screwdriver, unscrew or pry apart your watch. Now hold the watch back-plate with your knife's tweezers and heat over the flames. This makes a dandy little insect and spider frying pan..."

"Comb the floor for crumbs. The last passenger may have been eating a muffin, or a donut, or potato chips. Those brown stains you see down there could mean you’re stepping in some Kladdkaka. Lift your shoe and see what nourishing morsels you might uncover. Never underestimate the nutrition to be found on the floor of an elevator..."

"Sit very still and wait, wait, wait.  Ommmmmm...."

"Cry for help when the bread delivery man comes..."

Come to think of it, maybe there were people in the hotel. There may have been several operational elevators. No one would have noticed that one stuck lift contained a very calm, cool, Swede who might find a week’s stay in a broom closet to be a very agreeable experience.


Finally, here is a joke I thought some of you might enjoy. It’s a little racier than the usual wholesome fare found at SSIC, so I hope no one is offended.

A woman noticed that her dog (a Schnauzer) could hardly hear, so she took it to the veterinarian. The vet found that the problem was excessive hair in the dog's ears. He trimmed and cleaned both ears, and the dog could then hear fine.

The vet then proceeded to tell her that, if she wanted to keep this from recurring, she should go to the store and get a hair removal product and rub it in the dog's ears once a month.

The woman went to the local drug store and bought some "Nair" hair remover. At the register, the pharmacist told her, "If you're going to use this under your arms, don't use deodorant for a few days."

She replied, "I'm not using it under my arms."

The pharmacist said, "If you're using it on your legs, don't use body lotion for a couple of days."

She then said, "I'm not using it on my legs either. If you must know, I'm using it on my Schnauzer."

The pharmacist answered, "Well, stay off your bicycle for about a week".


Editor’s note:
This was only a joke. We do NOT recommend the use of any depilatory on any dog — be it Beagle, Poodle, Great Dane, Dalmatian, Labrador Retriever, etc.

Nor do we recommend its use on Schnauzers.

I Won't Prance, Don't Ask Me

In case you haven't seen it yet, Prancercise has been making quite a stir on the Internet. It's the latest exercise fad. It comes courtesy of a perky free spirit by the name of Joanna Rohrback. Here is her video:

It looks like fun, but would I do it? Not on your sweet prancing life.

I'm pretty sure that most men would not want to try Prancercise. I'm not too sure ANY adult would, but it would be a rare man indeed that you would find Prancercising through the park.

What the fitness world needs is an exercise routine that men can feel comfortable with — no need for equipment; no need for spandex; no need for music; no need to be perky, or bouncy, or even happy.

So, with that in mind, Snow Shoveling In Canada proudly presents the latest and greatest exercise routine for men:

STANCERCISE !!!

I was considering doing a video to demonstrate this intense workout. But since the Stancercise exercises do not really require much more than still photography for instruction (and since I don't have a decent video camera), I've decided to just post it here on this blog. And it's ALL FOR FREE

One aspect of Ms. Rohrback's video that has been getting a lot of attention is her white pants and a certain part of her anatomy that they cover (but don't really hide). I've decided to dispense with the idea of gaining similar attention by putting a kielbasa in my shorts and donning some tight white pants.

So let's begin. First we will start with this warm-up stance:

And hold... two... three... four...  and rest.

Now that you've caught your breath, let's try some advanced moves:

This "exercise" will take off the years,

when you pose like a model from Target or Sears

 "No pain, no gain"; we have no use for that platitude.

Instead we say, "Adopt a stance with some attitude".

If you are getting tired at this point, it might be a good idea to take a break. Remember to re-hydrate. I recommend beer.

Now, if you are ready to resume:

 In the dog days of summer, you'll never complain,

'cause you'll always be cool when you stand like John Wayne.

Your terrorist neighbors are sure to be nervous

when you bear the air of the Secret Service.

And finally my favorite:

Perspiration is fine for the cyclist or jogger

but I much prefer the sweat beads of a lager.

And hold... two... three... four... and rest.

Whew! Could anyone else go for a cold beer right now?