O Canada! The Land of the Free

Generated by a diabolical AI program

Happy New Year, fellow travelers and armchair adventurers!

For a few days around New Year’s, my wife Luba and I decided to visit Canada. Why Canada, you may ask? Well, for one, her cousin and his wife live in Ottawa, and it had been ages since we’d seen them. But we also had an ulterior motive. Ever since Trump casually floated the idea of Canada becoming the 51st state of the United States, we’ve been joking about retiring in Ottawa. And maybe, just maybe, getting euthanized
(Medical Assistance in Dying) when the time comes.

As we crossed the border, I couldn’t help but reflect on Trump’s tweet:

“No one can answer why subsidize Canada to over $100,000,000 a year? I think it’s a great idea. 51st State!” – Donald J. Trump

At our first stop—a quaint little gas station just past the border—I posed the question to a burly attendant with tufts of hair sprouting from his ears like a maple tree in spring. “So, what do you think of Trump’s plan to make Canada the 51st state?”

Without missing a beat, he grinned and said, “Tell Trump we’ll join the US when he learns to spell ‘Ottawa’ without Google.” Ouch. Looks like Canadian wit is as sharp as their winters.

Later, we met a lovely housewife who had moved to Canada from California 25 years ago with her Canadian husband. She laughed at my question. “My dream would come true!” she said. “I’ve been here for almost a hundred years, and I still can’t figure out how many kilometers are in a mile. Being part of the US would solve all my math problems. Plus, we’d finally get decent healthcare.”

I had to pause. “Wait—did you just say… ?”

She nodded emphatically. “Absolutely! That way, I can complain about it like an American instead of pretending it’s perfect like a Canadian!”

When we arrived at Luba’s cousin’s house, we were greeted with hugs, warmth, and an impressive spread of pickled vegetables, cabbage, mushrooms, and even chives. Her cousin is an avid hunter and outdoorsman, and his wife is a professional cook with a knack for creating culinary wonders out of the wilderness. She served us soup made from moose entrails (surprisingly delicious, if you’re into moose entrails) and a beaver tail stew so thick and flavorful it could float a hammer.

The weather, however, wasn’t cooperating—rain, sluggish snow flurries, and a breeze that was half-wind, half-sigh quickly extinguished Luba’s dreams of ice skating along the Ottawa River or cross-country skiing in the woods.

Instead, we spent most of our days indoors, playing old Soviet ballads on the piano, watching a Belarusian YouTube channel about life on a farm outside of Brest (if you ever wanted to learn how to trim a sheep’s hooves, skip to minute 50), and going to bed at 8 p.m. It was unexpectedly refreshing and relaxing.

On December 31st, we decided to venture downtown for some New Year’s spirit. But when we got there, the streets were eerily empty. No fireworks, no cheering crowds—just a ghostly stillness that made us wonder if we’d missed a memo. (See the photos below!)

As we reflected on our trip, I couldn’t help but think about the stark differences between the US and Canada. Canadians seem to embrace simplicity and serenity, where Americans often chase the bigger, louder, and flashier. If the 51st state idea ever came to pass, would it work? Or would we end up in a tug-of-war over healthcare, the metric system, and whether beaver tail counts as fine dining?

One thing’s for sure: Canada may not be joining the US anytime soon, but after this trip, I can confirm they’ve already got a prime spot in our hearts.

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’Til next time.

ak