“Happy Canada Day!”

The interesting thing about this phrase, which you hear repeatedly from adults and children throughout the day, is that I never hear its equivalent in the States on the 4th of July. Throughout the parade this afternoon you would hear people using it as a greeting, as a statement of the day, and as a joyous pronouncement. I don’t bring this up to imply that Americans are less patriotic or less respectful of the birth of their country than Canadians are, but I found it interesting that we don’t give the day its verbal due in the same manner. But Canadians are no more knowledgeable about their country than their American counterparts as a recent article in the Edmonton Journal notes that only 3% of Canadians can name all of the provinces (and there are only 10) and though the majority of Canadians believe that the Maple Leaf symbolizes their country best at least 35% believe that Tim Horton Timbits are symbolic as well.

We took Katy to the parade in town today. It was just like any small town parade I have ever been to on the 4th of July with tractors, horses, antique cars, the local fire department and politicians. People threw candy at the crowd which children ran to collect and then deposit in the plastic sacks they brought along just for that purpose. One of the few differences I noted were bagpipes. Several different bagpipe groups marched at different points in the parade and provided the only music I really heard. Another thing that struck me was how polite the onlookers were. Whenever I have taken my daughter to a parade in the past the streets were lined with people. Adults heedlessly blocking the views of people who had arrived and seated themselves early or ignoring small children who wanted to get through to the candy being thrown from those in the parade. I have witnessed preteen and older kids scoop up candy meant for wee ones and even snatch it practically out of the hands of the littlest of children. Today there was no disrespect. No one standing in front blocking the view. Two boys about ten and eleven offered candy to my daughter when it became clear to them that she wasn’t getting any as they were faster than she was. 

We walked from the parade site to the afternoon festivities. We encountered lines at nearly every stop. There was a line at the only restroom at the gas station. It was a unisex washroom, and one of the girls working had to hold up the line further when it was made known to her that a bit of cleaning needed to be done. No one grumbled or complained, but continued to wait  their turn. At the Anglican church there was a kids’ festival with the kinds of games and plastic prizes I remember from the ice cream socials of my Catholic elementary school days. Again, pleasantry. We next wandered over to Legacy Park so that Katy could take a turn at the “Jumpy Thing” (we call them bounce houses below the 49th). It was a very long line and the family in front of us reminded me quite a bit of the families of my former students on the east side of Des Moines. Dad was missing his top two front teeth and nearly every word out of his mouth to his wife was rude or dismissive. Mom had the beginnings of a goatee and ran back and forth from the line where her husband and two small boys waited to some distant place to fetch them food. For one horrified moment I realized that Katy was going to take her turn in the “Jumpy Thing” with these boys but while they clearly didn’t get along with each other, they were quite nice to my child even to the point of helping her in the puffy plastic play area.

After dinner Rob taught Katy how to make S’mores, and though she was adamant that she didn’t like roasted marshmallows, she loves S’mores. During dinner she had bet us that she would still be awake when it was time to head out for fireworks and stubborn chip off the block that she is, she was.

The citizens on patrol parking cars at the park did such an awful job that Rob decided to high tail it out before we got well and truly stuck there. The Boy Scouts and their parents at the Iowa State Fair do a better job parking cars frankly.

We ended the day next to the North Saskatchewan River in the parking lot for the city’s tennis club and watching the fireworks. They didn’t start until 11PM because it wasn’t dark of enough. Even at 11:30 when we pulled out and headed back for home, it was still light off to the western horizon.

The quote for the day is a bit of a tease on my husband. He sniffed a bit when I told him my selection for today and indignantly retorted that, “Canadians kill with kindness.” He is right. Happy Canada Day.