Texans in Canada, Part 5

Oh the shame. Image by MPD01605 via Flickr

I'm going to confidently lay out a scenario for you that has not nor will ever occur in human history:

A family piles into their car with rumbling tummies. They all buckle in, the engine starts, and the wife and two kids look to Dad, itching for the question they can't wait to answer. The father turns his head slightly and asks, "What does everyone feel like for dinner?" Then, with unbridled enthusiasm, his wife and children collectively scream, "Canadian!"

Canadian food is not a type of cuisine. There are quirky food items that may exclusively be Canadian, but having ketchup flavored potato chips doesn't establish an ethnic flavoring you teach in culinary college.

There are alternate universe foods here, where names are confusing and flavors even more so. The "Smarties" we all know and love are actually their "M&Ms," and they are NOT a suitable replacement. Pickles have an off taste that I can't properly describe due to my gag reflex hindering my speaking ability. Somehow the beloved Colonel's secret recipe has been tainted. I suppose one or more of the 11 herbs and spices are not available naturally here or through import agreements, though I can't imagine trade relationships being established for any other reasons. What the hell is NAFTA for if not to protect KFC's integrity across North America?

Finding good Mexican food here is a continued search for us, sampling whitened down Mexican dishes (or pale comparisons) at various restaurants offering their versions of tacos and burritos. Our trek is organized, crossing off failed attempts at venues in widening concentric circles using our house as ground cero. Our last effort took us about 30 kilometers out, where cheeseburgers were also on the menu, their salsa was sub par, and they made no attempt at proper queso. I cried in my weak margarita. The problem really is that Mexicans are running for the wrong border. If Canadian officials were to taste real Mexican food, I'm sure they would offer citizenship to all immigrants bearing home made tamales.

The one saving grace Canada has in establishing themselves in the competitive cookhouse lies in a dish called poutine. It's simple and sounds like nothing special, but a first taste reveals an elegant delight to my taste buds and a welcome greeting from my arteries. It is fries, brown gravy, and cheese curds, and it is brilliant. It's so brilliant and so unhealthy that I don't understand why Americans aren't already offering an oversized and overcheesed version in fast food chains nationwide. Canadians aren't shying away from offering crazy variations of poutine though. They've got lobster poutine, filet mignon poutine, and apparently a Mexican poutine, covered in carne asada, guacamole, sour cream, cheese, and pico de gallo. Maybe I won't find quality enchiladas here in Canada, but I can take comfort in knowing this Mexican poutine awaits me. I'm gassing up my new car right now and making a preemptive appointment with my cardiologist.

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• Poutine going mainstream south of the border (thestar.com)

Texans in Canada, Part 4

We finally got our own car and, surprise, the steering wheel is even on the correct side. It's a German vehicle made in Mexico that is now owned by American citizens living in Canada so we're dealing with some identity issues, but so far it's working out just fine. It's got fairly low kilometerage for a decade old vehicle and the rust is insignificant. Neither of us are keen on silver but cars here are all the same color for half the year so it's not that big of a deal. The sellers also threw in some winter tires which I assume bare claws when the terrain becomes too unruly, as demonstrated in the video below.



In order to properly purchase the car I needed the appropriate paperwork filed and an Ontarian license. I was raised to avoid the DMV at all costs if I wanted to retain a sane and disease free existence, but eventually we all have to face the demons of government sanctioned facilities. It's really a test of courage. In Canada however, I keep forgetting, everyone is friendly and helpful, including government workers.

I theorize that if I were to stab a Canadian stranger they would apologize to me for whatever they had done to set me off. I picture Eric Idle from European Vacation.

Despite the DMV woman's suspiciously cheery and generous nature, Texas' digital disobliging demeanor prevented me from getting an equivalent level license. I was only able to obtain what is referred to as a G2. This allows me to remove the training wheels from the car but I am required a copilot at all times and I have to submit a flight plan to the tower before departure.

This hiccup aside, I can still drive and was able to insure the car through State Farm, the very same car insurance group I had in the U.S. This is confusing as there are no states here. There are farms though, and I can only assume they are mostly wind farms. There is an extreme abundance of wind in Canada and it magically blows from all directions at all times, likely some Mendelian hybrid.

Un bebe peligroso!

Matt The Best Around Sully. Cover of The Karate Kid (Special Edition)

This news was not yet featured as a 20/20 segment, despite my insistence that it was "Earth shattering", but with hindsight it's often easier to identify key historical moments.

I am going to be a father.

Not like the father of modern medicine or father time, these positions have been filled, but one half of an equation that results in a child.

Naturally, "baby" has become the sole subject matter for my life partner, (the term is too good to be exclusive to gay couples). The expression of her one track focus on impending parenthood is reflected in every conversation through the day and the myriad of literature on parenthood invading the home. I understand the curiosity and desire for preparedness, but am really just looking forward to the years of free source material. I'm thinking dramatic comedy, but we'll see.

The first step on the road of humiliation that is life begins with a name. Pick the wrong one and baby Barnaby is doomed to be ridiculed, and/or start a circus. I am a big believer that the name gives strong definition to the person. This is why I'll never be friends with a Tad or take legal advice from someone name Brittany.

We don't know the sex yet, but I'm really hoping for either male or female. It makes picking names easier, and inventing a new gender at this point would just complicate the task of parenting that much more.

There's a lot of pressure to name your kid something unique, but too often this effort at instilling cool or ensuring individuality falls short. Much of the time it creates more social awkwardness than would have been necessary with a known, easily pronounceable name with an already accepted spelling.

If you name your kid Zayden you may as well name him Zayden Zayden, because for the rest of his life he will have to repeat his name to everyone he meets.

"Hi my name is Zayden."
"What?"
"Oh forget it. Bob, my name is Bob."

If you name your little girl Kate, but spelled C-A-I-T, then she will have to "correct" every document filled out by someone else and likely aid the reader of her name in completing the sounds, like teaching an adult ESL course at the community college.

We too want a solid name for the kid, but simple enough that it will fit nicely on a plaque or at the base of a statue. We also discussed names that could quickly be penciled onto a scantron, but those will likely be obsolete when he or she begins their major scholastic testing. I assume carving your name into wooden furniture or writing on bathroom stalls will remain in fashion for some time though, so at least we can try and make that easier for them.

The only trouble with taking the stance against fun and unique names is that we'll miss out on some real gems. I like the idea of a name that gives some sort of warning to those who have yet to be offered introductions to our son or daughter. For instance, I would be cautious about meeting someone name Plague or Hazard. Twins give a real opportunity for a one-two punch of naming genius.

"These are my twin boys, Clamor and Boom. I suggest you hide any fragile heirlooms or family pets during our visit."

Middle names are just where you stick the first name you were too scared to use or it's used as a family shout out, likely an attempt at currying favor from a rich relative. People dismiss the middle name too often but don't realize the chance it provides at giving the other two names some real meaning. "I'm David "The Fantastic" Smith, except they wouldn't need quotes because that would BE their middle name. Better yet, set a challenge for the kid, like a life goal mixed in.

"It says here your name is Joey The First Man to Travel Beyond the Known Universe Johnson. Is that accurate?"
"Well, that IS my name but I'm waiting on some advancements in space exploration before I can live up to it."

We are narrowing the list down and for ongoing details you can check Vanessa's blog here. I looked up some other baby names that were considered cool and laughed a bit to hard at some of the choices, especially in knowing that some parents somewhere are going to really use them. I assure you, none of our prospective names were in this list:

Orion, Taj, Clancy, Bowie, West, Bluze, Jenae, Cassarissa, Chouchie

I just saw the name Kai and, hoping it's pronounced like "sky", would make a great middle name. The first name of course would be Cobra.