Mooooooooose

Here's a little known fact about Canadians, one that I did not know until I moved to the Southern U.S. of A.

Americans' knowledge of Canucks may be a little sparse but they do know one thing. One indisputable, irrefutable, dyed-in-the-fur, big-nosed, antler-ridden fact.

Canadians love moose.

Of course we do. How could we not? We love moose so much, we even named one of our cities after the jaw of a moose.

As a result of this big, hairy fact, there are now moose all over our hoose. Moose coasters in the den, a wooden moose for the mantel, a big headed silly looking moose for kicks, moose Christmas ornaments, a moose candle holder, a moose holding a basket into which I throw change, a glittery elk which my sweet mother-in-law mistook for a moose - I suppose it could be a moose in drag. There is even a sock monkey moose.

One of my colleagues at the TV station has nicknamed me "Moose" (I call him "Possum"). My American friends, bless their hearts, bestow moose upon me like blessings. Heartfelt signs of affection for which I am both grateful and amused. When in doubt about what to get a Canadian, a moose always makes a great gift.

Everywhere I look, there be moose.

So dear friends, whereas I am surrounded by moose, and whereas everywhere I look, there is a moose, you will understand that when it came to naming my new company, I could not help myself.

No News Is Snow News

Tried to catch the news on the boob tube this morning.

Tried, say I.

When it snows in the South, the local TV stations are obsessed. Between obnoxious car and furniture commercials, there are news reporters driving around with their cameras pointed out the windshield excitedly talking about slippery slidey stuff. Other reporters stand for hours on ramps and bridges, freezing off their Southern butts and risking their lives shooting fishtailing, struggling cars. If nothing is happening, which is most of the time, the station shows the same one or two shots over and over again.

The anchor team stares seriously at the camera reciting the names of schools that are closed - all of them in middle Tennessee are closed today so the list takes a while. There are lots of cutaways to the weatherman who shows us a map and points out how much snow has fallen, helpfully suggesting that we should wear mittens instead of gloves to keep our fingers warm (18 degrees F) and to stay at home if we can. There are cutaways to the very pleasant traffic woman who, no matter how grim the traffic report, smiles sweetly at the camera. You get the feeling that she would project the same professional demeanor if her arm were blown off. At least until she passed out. Maybe even after.

At first I watched these extremely attractive news people out of interest and amusement. The Southern reaction to snow and ice made my Canuck soul chuckle. After the amusement faded, I watched out of sheer stubbornness. I wanted to see if anything else was going on in the world worth reporting. Anything at all.

I watched for an hour.

Well folks, I am delighted to report that on the morning of January 21st, 2011, according to Channel 4 out of Nashville, there is nothing to report except a little snow. No shootings, dirty politics, oil spills, wars or evil doings whatsoever. Just snow.

Yay for the cleansing, healing salvation of the feathery white stuff. I hope it snows everyday and forever.

Front yard, 7 AM-ish.

Back yard, 7 AM-ish.

New Year Gaiman 2011