Canadianity

by Jeremy Taggart

  Dedication

  For Beryl & Ronnie. —Taggart

  For Pat & Susan. Thanks for taking a whack at it. —Torrens

  Contents

  Dedication

  A Warm Welcome

  The Poddy and the Page Turn

  The Explosion of TnT

  Canadianity Glossary

  Prince Edward Island: Spuds and Bahds

  Ontario: Lakes, Rivers and Bahds That Give ’Er

  New Funswick

  Nova Scotia: Rum & Cokers and Practical Jokers

  Quebec: Expos and Sex Shows

  Manitobahds

  Hay, Saskatchewan! Wheat’s Up?

  Alberta: Choice Cuts and Truck Nuts

  British Columbia: BC Bahd

  Newfoundland and Labrador: Day Boilers and Alan Doylers

  The North: A Tundra of Fundra!

  AmeriCanadianity: Us in the US

  FAQ: OLP and TPB

  Canadianity for Dummies

  Game On!

  TnT Is Sketchy

  That’s All He Wrote

  Special Thanks

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  A Warm Welcome

  Hey, bahd! Congratulations on buying this book! Don’t let anyone tell you that you didn’t accomplish something today.

  Unless maybe your aunt who doesn’t know you that well gave it to you for your birthday. Or you just got transferred to a job in the Great White North and a colleague gave it to you as a joke “Canadian primer.” Or you found an old Indigo gift card when you were cleaning out the Kia and grabbed this off the clearance table beside the cash before the card expired.

  No matter how this glorious tome ended up in your hands, welcome! We’re glad you’re here.

  What you’re about to read/skim in the bathroom/use as kindling is a celebration of the clich-ehs we Canadians sometimes roll our collective eyes at. We call them clich-ehs. (Torrens: Okay, I do. Taggart doesn’t dig wordplay as much as me.)

  Really, though. Doesn’t it seem like people are prouder than ever to call Canada home? Especially the more that other parts of the world are in turmoil. We think this particular chest-puffing period started around 2010, during the Vancouver Olympics. Media from around the world reported that “Canada is cool,” as though this was somehow breaking news. We always knew it. All right, we suspected it, even if it wasn’t something we would dare say out loud. That would be too braggy. If there’s one thing we Canadians are not, it’s that.

  Canada’s current cool chapter has continued ever since. Tatiana Maslany won an Emmy for her astonishing work on Orphan Black. Astronaut Chris Hadfield’s singing-from-space video went viral globally. Canada Goose has a flagship store in Manhattan. Even our prime minister (another JT) upped the ante, with photo spreads of him and his wife spooning, gazing, even necking appearing in fashion magazines. Because it’s 2016. Or it was then. On the night Donald Trump became president-elect, the Canadian Immigration and Citizenship ministry’s website crashed because Americans were curious about escaping to a better life here in the Great White North.

  We’ve certainly enjoyed this outbreak of pride on our Taggart & Torrens podcast, when we made up a word—“Canadianity”—to describe what it means to have Canada as your home and native land. Canadianity. It sounds vaguely religious, and at first we were using it borderline facetiously.

  It wasn’t until we asked our listeners to define it that we realized we were really on to something. Some definitions were macro, as you might expect. Being kind. Enjoying wilderness. Sewing flags on our backpacks.

  But it was the ones that were so hyper-specific that caught our attention.

  “Your beer-league goalie bursts into the dressing room three minutes before you take the ice.”

  “Paying for the Timmies for the guy behind you in drive-thru.”

  “Listening to the Hip while opening the cottage on May 2-4.”

  And so this new religion was born: Canadianity. Also known as Bahddism. Everywhere we go we meet more and more practising Bahddists. Turns out TnT was filling a hole we didn’t even know existed. Filling it with nostalgia and cultural references that had long ago been buried in snow. Not, like, Snow the rapper. Actual snow. Canadian snow.

  Or was it frozen tears from a time not so long ago when nobody chose Albert? ’Member that commercial for Canadian Tire?

  So, back to the clich-ehs. Knowing that we’re now using them to define Canadianity with pride, let’s begin with the biggest one of all.

  Canadians are nice.

  So what? We are.

  We apologize too much. Also true.

  But we’re not “sorry aboot that,” because it’s in our DNA, and frankly, of all the reputations we could have, “nice” is a pretty nice one. It’s better than cheap, aggressive or not fresh.

  By the way, the only time you ever really hear someone say “aboot” is when an American is trying to mock us. That’s okay too.

  We’re far more offended by their use of the phrase “ice hockey,” as if there’s any other kind. If you ever want to raise the ire of an American, find a way to slip the term “grass baseball” into a conversation. We’re more likely to say “aboat” than “aboot” anyway. So there.

  What are some of the other clich-ehs?

  That we love maple syrup. Hardly a diss, but okay. Who could blame us? It’s delicious, as we were reminded in our original TnT game 50/50 Shots, where you have to pound a shot of maple syrup if you give the wrong answer to a trivia question. Warning: Do not play this game with Aunt Jemima. Or with an actual Mountie, as we did at our live show in Regina. It results in a Canadianity OD and can leave you feeling slightly nauseated.

  Speaking of Mounties, how about the clich-eh that members of the RCMP are squeaky-clean, earnest folks—“Dudley Do-Right meets Due South” types? True. But aren’t those good qualities for the ones protecting us?

  We have free health care. Again, true. Less of a clich-eh and more of an interesting tidbit straight out of a “So You Want to Converse with a Canadian” handbook.

  Although realistically, if you go to the emergency room with a splinter, you might be waiting a long time while all the people with massive head wounds from errant skate blades get treated.

  Here’s another generalization: Canadian female singers have only one name. Céline. Alanis. Shania. Tagaq. Drake. So? They’ve sold squadrillions of records and are household names all over the world!

  Oh yeah. That we’re hosers, as portrayed by Bob and Doug McKenzie. I mean, that one’s not exactly wrong either. But we’ve been called worse.

  That’s pretty much it. In a nutshell, those are the preconceived notions the rest of the world has “aboat” us. Pretty harmless overall.

  Why do we care? Really, why does it matter what others think about us?

  What it comes down to is that it would be rude not to care, and we Canadians are extremely polite.

  Like most clich-ehs, these are born out of at least a kernel of truth. So we can either get our backs up and be defensive about them or just allow that they’re at least partly true and get in on the joke. The latter makes so much more sense, especially because another thing we are for sure is funny.

  Like Mike Myers, Jim Carrey, Catherine O’Hara, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, Samantha Bee, Rick Mercer, John Candy funny. Pretty impressive pedigree. It’s because our humour has a British influence, but our proximity to America determines a lot of our pop culture. These two distinct flavours combined with our own homegrown self-deprecating quality create a Neapolitan of comedic sensibilities. Cheeky, witty, silly.

  Our pop-culture landscape is as diverse as our geography. Canada is responsible for Blue Rodeo and Bublé, for Pamela Anderson and Steve Nash, for Rush and the Weeknd. We export hockey pl
ayers and import baseball players. We watch American reality shows but take great pride in confessing to how sheepish we are about it before making our own softer, gentler versions, like Survivor: Sudbury. We can relate to Letterkenny Problems, and we all know at least a few Trailer Park Boys.

  The truth is it’s hard to make sweeping generalizations about Canada because the culture of this country is as diverse as the landscape itself. Vast arctic tundra and endless prairie wheat fields, cookie-cutter cliffs and mighty mountains, lakes and rivers, ponds and streams. Space. Fresh air. Cleanliness. We see plenty of that when we take Taggart & Torrens on tour across this great land. It’s shocking how many times you can say “hoarfrost” on the drive across Saskatchewan.

  Some of us do live in igloos, but most of us don’t. Most of us do live within a hundred miles of the US border. We get irritated when Americans can’t name all the provinces, though most of us can’t name all of the states.

  We invented basketball and butter tarts, insulin and the telephone, the jolly jumper and the Wonderbra (two separate things it turns out).

  Here’s a trivia question for you. The Robertson screwdriver (another Canadian invention) was named after:

  a.Lloyd Robertson

  b.Robertson Davies

  c.Ed Robertson of Barenaked Ladies, whose real first name is Lloyd

  None of the above.

  Here’s some more trivia for you. Trivial Pursuit was invented by Canadians. As was Hockey Night in Canada. Speakers’ Corner. The Royal Canadian Air Farce.

  Stompin’ Tom. Rita MacNeil.

  Is your heart swelling with pride? No? Are you sure you’re even Canadian?

  To be sure one way or the other, take our very short TnT Canadianity quiz. If you answer yes to most of these questions, you’re as Canuck as Steve Podborski.

  1.Do you know who Steve Podborski is?

  2.Have you ever bought something with Club Z points?

  3.Do you have an Optimum card/Aeroplan miles/Canadian Tire money?

  4.Can you say, “The one with McCain punch” with a straight face?

  5.Were you taught to “play safe”?

  6.Is Maple Leaf your national symbol and your luncheon meat?

  7.Do you know who Hal and Joanne are?

  8.Did you ever get Roots boots for Christmas?

  9.Have you ever celebrated Bad Days?

  10.Did you roadtrip to Alberta or Quebec for your eighteenth birthday?

  11.Does “Snowbird” refer to a plane, people who go south in the winter and an Anne Murray song?

  12.Have you ever spent a Friday night at the Electric Circus studio?

  How did you do? Do you feel like you’ve just completed the 20-Minute Workout (that’s worth a Google)? If you answered yes to the majority of these questions, you’re as Canadian as a GST refund cheque.

  If you didn’t, get reading, bahd! You have work to do. And so do we . . .

  Over the next several hundred pages, we’ll fly the flag with pride and shine a light on some of the people, places and faces that make this country so great from coast to coast to coast.

  Please note: this is not the definitive list. This is OUR Taggart & Torrens list, cobbled together from our trans-Canada adventures and misadventures. So don’t bother pointing out that we forgot the Gaétan Boucher “skating on butter” ad. ’Cuz we may well have.

  Along the way, we’ll also share some Tales from the Road about how this country has shaped us into the soon-to-hopefully-receive-honorary-doctorates-from-some-low-end-university men we are today. Jeremy’s two decades touring the country with Our Lady Peace have resulted in some doozies. Jonathan’s travels with Street Cents, Jonovision and Trailer Park Boys have yielded some solid yarns too, although maybe overall a little less rock ’n’ roll in tone.

  We’ll even throw in our suggestions—and some of yours—for the best places to [insert aggressive action verb] food across the country.

  So grab a donair and a frosty soldier, put on your best Beaver Canoe rugby shirt with matching Cooperalls, and settle in for a journey through Canadianity.

  Let’s start at the start. What the hell even is Taggart & Torrens?

  The Poddy and the Page Turn

  Torrens

  The shelf life of a “celebrity” in Canada is relatively short. Just ask the cast of any high-profile original CTV drama from the 2000s. Or the members of b4-4. Or Alligator Al from Mr. Dressup. However, there is one exception to this rule: if you make it big in the States.

  Or if you’re Rick Mercer.

  Or if you’re a hockey analyst. Or a star in Quebec. Or Anne Murray. Or named Gord.

  Okay, so there are a few exceptions, but generally we Canadians tend to think that as soon as someone achieves any amount of success on screen, it’s someone else’s turn. One and done. Hard to build a star system this way, but I guess it’s the Canadian Way in that more people get a shot.

  It’s not lost on me just how lucky I am to have worked for twenty-five years-plus in the business here. Pretty sure I’ve managed to stick around for two reasons:

  1.I’ve never been the star of my own big prime-time show. Instead, I’m usually second to seventh banana on a high-profile show, or on a kids show, which has allowed me to fly under the radar. Hard to get overexposed on a Saturday morning consumer-affairs show for kids.

  2.The 180. Doing Trailer Park Boys after Jonovision was such a change-up, so out of left field, that it allowed people to see me in a whole different way. Same as playing buttoned-up Robert Cheeley on Mr. D after sporting track suits and Ardene bling as J-Roc on Trailer Park Boys.

  The last thing you can afford to be in a market this size is typecast. It’s the Dan Hill factor. After “Sometimes When We Touch,” most people saw him as a saccharine balladeer instead of the hardcore folkie he was before that.

  Here’s the other harsh reality: I couldn’t be J-Roc for a living. Creatively or financially. Even if I could combine shooting the series in the summer and touring as a fake rapper in the winter, that might last a few years. Then what?

  So, like a junkie, I’m always looking for my next buzz. How can I change it up?

  Shooting scripted shows is fun, especially ones like TPB and Mr. D, where we’re allowed to riff in and out of the script. Improv keeps you on your toes and keeps it fresh. But there’s a lull between shooting and when the show is released—sometimes up to six months.

  So I was looking to do something with a more immediate turnaround. Especially in this day and age, where feedback is instantaneous and you can incorporate it into your show as it evolves. Something lo-fi, where there was maybe less money, lower stakes and fewer resources involved, but ultimately more creative control. In other words, something that, for better or for worse, was exactly what I meant.

  Since Trailer Park Boys has been on Netflix, we’ve been spoiled. There isn’t a network executive weighing in with copious script notes like “I don’t think that character should be called Marsha because I went to school with a Marsha and she was nothing like that.” It’s a dream scenario and I’d gotten kinda used to doing/saying/writing what I wanted.

  Enter Jeremy Taggart. We’d met over the years. We were fringe friends—definitely aware of each other but not close. I’d heard him on The Jay & Dan Podcast, hosted by beloved TSN personalities Jay Onrait and Dan O’Toole, and thought he was funny. His storytelling style and experiences were so different from mine. Plus, I think we all secretly wonder what it would be like to be a rock star, and having a friend you can drill with questions about it is right up my alley.

  “What if you got a blister on your thumb before a big show? Would you cancel?”

  “What if you have to pee during a set?”

  “Have you ever trashed a hotel room?”

  The timing couldn’t have been better. He was ready for a page turn after leaving Our Lady Peace.

  Here’s what a lot of people don’t know: bands like OLP were instrumental to the success of Trailer Park Boys early on. The show had trouble
getting traction in its first season or two. It looked and sounded different from anything else that came before it. The TV landscape wasn’t quite ready for “Cops from a criminal’s point of view.”

  Fortunately, bands started watching the DVDs of the show on their tour buses. They’d pass them back and forth, share them with friends. Soon, pro sports teams were watching too.

  Still, it’s safe to say it wasn’t exactly a ratings juggernaut when Jeremy suggested that Ricky, Julian and Bubbles go on tour with Our Lady Peace as the opening act. I’m sure the other members of his band scratched their heads at this notion. What on earth would they do? They weren’t a band.

  For whatever reason, the idea went ahead, and Taggs often talks about witnessing Trailer Park fever strike as they made their way across the country. Band and boys. Slowly, surely, audiences were starting to not only buy in but really dig it.

  “Knock knock,” Ricky would say to an arena full of people.

  “Who’s there?” they’d reply.

  “Go f*ck yourself!”

  Cheers would go up throughout the venue. People suddenly couldn’t get enough of the Sunnyvale crew.

  Other bands like Rush and the Hip helped too, and soon Trailer Park Boys was well on its way. So thanks, Taggs, for helping me play J-Roc for fifteen years to the point where people were like “Why is that doughy dad wearing a do-rag?”

  The Explosion of TnT

  Taggart

  I’ve known Jonathan since around 2004. Mike Smith of Trailer Park Boys always appreciated my skill for comparing random people with noted celebrities, the more obscure, the better the chuckle. Mike told me I had to experience Jonathan’s same gift.

  I finally met Jono at a charity golf tournament in Toronto. We were paired together and we had a spectacular back-and-forth on the first tee. I told him I hoped he played as well as his lookalike, Jack Wagner, and he swiped back by calling me a Father of Confederation, what with my long hair all tied up and falling about. A solid thump by Torrens, earning my respect forever thereafter.

  We kept in touch and always kept in mind that we’d like to work together at some point. It wasn’t until I started becoming a regular on The Jay & Dan Podcast that I realized that’s what we should do. People were digging the tales about my dad and the road, and I was looking into ways of having my own pod with interesting guests. When Jonathan went on with Jay and Dan, with his ridiculous Sobeys bag story, he had a very similar reaction to mine. I gave him a ring and asked if he’d be into doing a podcast together. He agreed that it would probably be fun, so we made a demo at Newstalk 1010, a radio station in Toronto, with the help of Mike Bendixen, the station’s program director and a great bahd. We had such a great time doing the demo that we just started making pods and firing them onto SoundCloud.