Happy Canada D-Eh!

That's right, today is Canada Day! Well, not here anyway. Here it's just stupid Thursday. But I assume our neighbors to the north are positively tickled in their flannel britches today, which is sort of like Canadian Fourth of July. Oh, Canada, you're so cute up there, with your hockey and your bacon and your French people. I know you think nobody respects you, but look at all the people out there who love Canada.

For example, an inexplicably popular, fatass American sportscaster loves Canada and its lax drug policies.



You know who else loves Canada? This highly spirited, possibly mentally challenged Hoser loves Canada.



Hell, even yours truly loves Canada. Well, at least "O Canada," my favorite national anthem, which was adopted as Canada's official national tune 30 years ago today, to which I say... really, only 30 years? What did they sing before curling matches and log rolling competitions in 1979?

So Canada, today we salute you, flapping heads, beady eyes, and all. Here's to Canada: America's Hat! And if you still believe the whole world is just ragging on you, well, for one day you can say, "Fuck you budday!" For one day, you get to stick it to us. So put on your finest formal wear, crack open a Labatt, and show the world what Canada is all aboot.

The Bonnaroo Tales, Vol. I: Runnin' On Empty

Yea it's taken me a while to talk some Bonnaroo. It's taken me a while to talk some anything. Well...tough. Sorry, that's all I have to say about it. Oh, that, and you're gonna wait a little longer as I recap the festival day by day. You like it.

It's often said that life isn't a sprint--it's a marathon. For this guy, the past 3 weeks or so have been some sort of delirious mash-up of the entire race. There's been a lot of talk among my circle recently of racing and running and living lots of life in a short while, and I feel like that's what I've been doing since I last posted, lo those many moons ago.

In the last two weeks I saw Phish in New York and New Jersey, drove to freaking Canada and back (a return trip that took 12 hours door-to-door and a Baseball Roadshow that deserves its own post entirely), and ran my Yankee Stadium record to 4-0 on the year so far -- all while looking for a 3 bedroom apartment in Manhattan. All this immediately followed a week that had completely rocked my world. I found myself reuniting with slews of old friends, and even a couple of exes. I have crammed what feels like a lifetime's worth of chaos, stress, action, confusion -- and yes, fun -- into a relatively short amount of time. There are many tales yet to be written, but the big one - or at least the story that best encompasses all of what I've been feeling these last few weeks - is Bonnaroo.

Bonnaroo is a literal and figurative time warp. As you make your way to the festival – at least if you’re truly road trippin' it – the miles and hours pile up and the journey feels interminable. Though we arrived in Manchester around 7:30 Thursday evening and made it inside after only a short wait (leaving us exactly enough daylight to set up camp and avoid a torrential downpour -- 'Roo Success #1!), some unfortunate souls are made to wait upwards of 5 hours to physically enter the festival grounds from the highway. The whole experience can feel like a never-ending odyssey. But once you reach your destination, the opposite effect occurs. Time seems to simply melt from one music-filled moment to the next. By the time the festival hits full stride, you’re not quite sure where one day starts and the next ends, and the places you’ve come from and intend to be going to at festival’s end feel like distant planets from a bygone time. On top of this dreamlike state of consciousness brought on by the long journey, oppressive Tennessee heat, sprawling music schedule stretching from noon until 4am daily, and never-ending stream of wild and crazy people, the state of Tennessee spans two time zones. Apparently there’s a sign that indicates when you’ve crossed over into Central Time, but no one in our car got that memo, which made for a confusing start to the trip when we had to figure out what time to go see Passion Pit on Thursday night. So it goes. If the whole festival experience has a time warp element to it, this confusion was probably the most appropriate way to start. Passion Pit were jumping at This Tent, we danced around, unnecessarily circumnavigated the entire campground in pouring rain on the way back to our spot, dried off and went to bed. It was the best night's sleep I'd had in nearly a month.

From The States, Eh?

Today, I depart for the True North strong and free, America's Hat -- Canada! It will be my first time setting foot on the shores of our northern neighbor, and if ESPN's resident blowhard assclown has any idea what he's talking about, the Canadian CVS will have just the thing to soothe my aching head, which has had just about all the stress it can take for one week. I don't need a lot, just enough to give you that POP, eh, Berman?

You always hope to have one Blue Jay game a year.
Little 8% Codeine never hurt anyone, I know exactly what this night is.

Being Canadian: >, <, or = Being Disabled? [They're not even a real country anyway]

I got caught in a Jaywalking moment at a party last weekend when I declared "O Canada" my favorite national anthem. I realize this is primarily because I'm obsessed with the South Park movie -- not the point. In defense of my choice, I said, "It's a simple tune but it's poetic, not too long and easy to sing." Then came my Leno-worthy blunder.

"Much easier than, uh... the one that we have..."

Then laughter. Specifically in my face and at me. In my defense, I did immediately remember the title of the STAR SPANGLED (EFFING)* BANNER.

*expletives added for emphasis. and fun.

This all got me thinking about other explanations for my appreciation of "O Canada," and served to up the hype for this year's edition of our annual MLB Barnstorming Tour: Northward, To Canada! The tradition has already produced its share of watershed moments, and the '09 edition is looking like it's going to be a winner as well. I started to wonder what pregame festivities Toronto would have to bust out to top the classics we've been lucky enough to experience-- I don't know that there's anything, but I've been proven wrong before.

Naturally, it wasn't long before I thought of the great Edmonton Oilers tradition of the home crowd singing the national anthem. It's eerie cool, and the video is worth watching for that alone. But this particular version vaults into Unintentionally Televised Unintentional Comedy Hall of Fame status at around the 0:55 mark. As the camera pans close up along the players on the bench, it winds up fixed squarely on a Molson-loaded Canuck in the front row, visible just over the shoulder of some Oiler player -- sorry, this is America, I can't be held accountable for hockey player identities -- belting out his loyalty to Canada like he wants everyone in the building to know all aboot it. I know they're pro athletes and they're in hyper focused playoff mode, but how does anyone keep their shit together with that going on not 3 feet away?



Meanwhile, if this video weren't hilarious enough (Mr. Canadian Cameraman, wherever you are, thank you), now go back and take a closer look at Number 10 standing behind the plate in the Disability Day national anthem video...

Tell me that's not the same hoser from the front row in Edmonton! They match in every respect, from physical looks to over-excitedly Hulking Up at the end of their respective anthems. Get that guy off the field! He's not disabled -- he's just Canadian!

Alright, so you can understand how the Disability Awareness Day organizers might have missed that one...