Not exactly born on the 4th of July

First off, to all my south of the border friends, may I wish you a fine July 4th. We actually have July 4th in Canada, too, but it's just a regular old day only for me punctuated by the fact that the stock market will be closed so I won't be able to check how much I've lost yet again, and that the TV schedule will probably be screwed up.

But, seriously. I think there may be some sort of a myth afoot that Canadians don't like Americans. This is not so. Some Canadians may not like some of the things your government does, but we also don't like some things our own government does, so it kind of evens out.

There is another myth perpetrated by some of your more reactionary politicians that suggests that Canada is some sort of hotbed of seething international terrorists just waiting to get across the border and wreak havoc on your side, therefore the border-crossings should be rendered virtually impossible. This is, of course, nothing other than grandstanding uttered by people who would probably have a difficult time spelling Canada, but it makes for a good rant, nevertheless.

Anyway, enough about international political bullshit. I have traveled extensively in the US and have never been treated with anything short of graciousness. I can honestly say that I have never had a bad experience. My familiarity is with the west and at a personal level I find I have much more in common with people in Washington, Oregon, California and Hawaii than I do with Canadians in Ontario or Quebec. Nothing wrong with the people in those provinces, it is just that I have a western and Pacific perspective on life and the future, much as do those in your west. I also think the Oregon coast, Hawaii, and much of California (with the exception of LA) are among world beauty spots. And the beauty of British Columbia fits nicely into that mix.

Actually, until I was in my teens, we spent virtually every July 4th in the US. I honestly thought it was our holiday, too, until I was educated enough to know better. My aunt and uncle from Seattle had a summer home on Puget Sound at a little sport called Gooseberry Point, near Bellingham, and we would drive down from my Vancouver home (it was only about 50 miles) to spend the holiday with them, because my uncle, an ex-navy guy always did it up in a big way. So, we had fireworks, and a weenie roast on the beach. My cousin and I would go out at low tide and get dungeness crabs (if we were lucky) and clams and these would all be cooked up. We would take firecrackers early in the day and go over into the Indian reservation (the Indians also sold all the fireworks) adjoining in search of our special firecracker adventure. There were free range cattle on the reservation and where you have cattle you have cowflops galore. We would look for the ones that had crusted over, insert a firecracker, and then run like hell, because when they blew up cow poop would splatter far and wide.

Later in the day there would be a gathering of Indian canoeists from both sides of the border -- native Canadians and Americans generally don't recognize the border, nor should they have to -- and the war-canoe races would take place. It was fabulous. And, I showed no humility about it whenever a Canadian team would take an event.

The day would end with a magnificent fireworks show on the beach. In the "rocket's red glare" indeed. All up and down the beach at assorted fires skyrockets would hurtle into the nighttime sky over Lummi Island and, if it was a special moonlit night, there might even be will-o-the-wisp in the ocean and the breaking waves would luminescently sparkle and crackle with their own internal fireworks.

It was all quite fabulous and my sense of nostalgia and interconnectedness tells me there is nothing that two vitally significant nations cannot work out between themselves to everyone's advantage.

Again, a happy fourth to you all.