Canadianity

by Jeremy Taggart

  It bums me out that Billy Van hasn’t been more celebrated. People need to know how great he was. At least put the show out again with the full Wolfman jams.

  I love Canada during fall. I was a massive fan of Halloween—it relieved the uneasiness of a new school year. Seeing all the decorations and community spirit always got me going. Growing up in southern Ontario has its benefits. The colour of the trees in September and October is one of the best reasons to live here.

  My favourite area in fall has to be the Headwaters area, just north of Toronto. All those beautiful rivers like the Nottawasaga, the Boyne, the Rouge and the Mad, all meeting up in the glorious watershed of the headwaters. The abundance of fresh water created this beautiful landscape and incredible soil. If you get a chance, go for a walk in Horning’s Mills, Honeywood or my old stomping grounds, Mansfield, and you’ll be blown away by the beauty of this treasured space. I got real lucky growing up in that area. It’s so fresh and awake there in the fall, you can almost hear all the natural preparation for winter. Canadianity at its best!

  Bahd Ambassadors

  Maple Syrup Shots

  Neil and Dave from the podcast Maple Syrup Shots (named after our TnT game!) have these solid tips for Saskatoon.

  •Winston’s English Pub. Best beer selection in Saskatoon (seventy-two taps!)

  •Meewasin Valley. Great area to walk and take in Saskatoon’s beauty.

  •Mardi Gras Grill. Louisiana-style cuisine in the heart of the Prairies!

  •Wanuskewin Heritage Park. A great place to take in nature and learn some of the history of Canada’s indigenous peoples.

  Bahd Ambassador

  Jay Onrait

  Anchor and bestselling author Jay Onrait got his start pounding smaller broadcast markets in the Prairies before landing at TSN in Toronto. One half of Jay & Dan (he plays the challenging role of “Jay”), the super-popular TSN bahd-casters, Jay was kind enough to take some time out from husbandhood, dadhood and listening to obscure bands to offer these suggestions for where to eat and drink in Saskatoon.

  When I was living in Toronto, one of the things that used to make me truly upset was when a friend or colleague would travel to a city in the Prairies for work, and then come back saying something like “I couldn’t find anywhere to eat but bad chain restaurants. I am not a fan of that town!”

  Could there be a lazier statement? If Canadian bahd John Catucci has taught us anything on his hit Food Network show You Gotta Eat Here, it’s that this country is absolutely filled with amazing places to eat, drink and party in whatever city or town you find yourself in. All you have to do is ask a bahd who lives there.

  So if someone asks me where to have a drink or a bite in Saskatoon, where I lived in the late ’90s and love to visit to this day, I usually say the Yard & Flagon or the Crazy Cactus for drinks, and either of Top Chef Canada winner Dale MacKay’s two amazing restaurants, Ayden Kitchen & Bar or Little Grouse on the Prairie.

  Games Little People Play

  We were talking on a poddy about the ridiculous games we used to play as kids. It worries me that, nowadays, kids don’t have to use their imaginations to invent games the way we did. Games like Chuck the Boot, which Taggart used to play with his brother Jet. You’d sit on opposite beds with your legs wide open and take turns chucking a boot at each other’s midsection. Only rule was you couldn’t move if it was coming right for your . . . area.

  We love it when people are inspired to write in and share their own bits of Canadianity with us. For some reason, dumb kids games really struck a chord. Here are just a few of the submissions we got. Not surprisingly, some of the best ones come from the Prairies, where there’s nothing but space and time to fill.

  In Indian Head, Saskatchewan, we used to play a game on my buddy’s farm where we stacked up old tires on the end of an old rusty auger. Then we would climb up to the top of the auger to bring it down. As a few of us held the auger down, one person would let go, shooting the others up. One time we thought it would be funny to all let go and send our skinniest friend to the top. He couldn’t hang on when it banged to a stop at the top. He fell pretty hard. There wasn’t a very good grip, because it’s just round—hahaha. Most fun we ever had growing up. “Wanna go play on the auger?”

  Kevin

  We weren’t kids per se when we played this game, but I think it’s still worth sharing. My bahds Nick and Jon and I were hanging out one day with nothing do when we were eighteen or nineteen. We found an old Snapple bottle and a long piece of speaker wire at the side of a road, so Jon tied the wire around the neck of the bottle and began dragging it behind him and pretended the bottle was his pet dog. It was funny at first, but the joke went on for hours as we walked around our neighbourhood. Finally, the bottle hit a curb a little hard and it smashed, and Jon cradled the broken bits in his hands and feigned sobbing while people walked by, aghast. Once he stopped sobbing, I’m pretty sure we went to Jon’s parents’ place and got banged up at three in the afternoon.

  A few days later, Jon showed up at my door with a new bottle and the same speaker wire “leash,” but he managed not to smash his new pet while we walked around that day.

  Warren

  When I was around ten, a buddy and I used to play a game where we would take turns throwing rocks at each other while the other person shielded himself with a trash can lid. We would go into the gravel alley behind his house and stand about ten yards away from each other. One person would yell out the type of gun (rifle, machine gun, spread, etc.), and the other person would have to shield himself from the oncoming rock(s). A rifle meant you threw one rock, a machine gun was several rocks one at a time, and the spread gun was a handful of rocks thrown all at once. It was a blast, we were dumb, and it’s a miracle we still have two functioning eyes.

  Philip

  When I was younger, me and a group of bahds used to play a game we called “price check.” Basically, we’d set up a pop can about ten to fifteen metres away and throw rocks at it. The goal was to knock the can over, but your “award” for hitting the can was getting to run over and set the can back up, while the rest of the group ripped rocks at you and chanted “Make that fucker pay the price.” Hence the name “price check.” Oh, and a rule was you couldn’t wear a shirt. We played this game right into young adulthood and sometimes had fifteen to twenty people playing at a time. Great times.

  Graham

  I have got a couple of doozies for ya! The arrow game you guys talked about—shooting an arrow straight up into the air—me and my cousin did that. But we got slightly banged up and would play in the dark, losing sight of the arrow. We’d take off in one direction, hoping it would be away from where the arrow would strike the ground. More than once we would stop and the arrow would land terrifyingly close. Good times. The other one we played was with the old sharp-tipped lawn darts. We’d stand like twenty metres [apart] (gotta keep the Canadianity strong) and throw the darts, with the goal being to either make the other person move or have it land between their legs. Had a couple close calls on that one!

  Deaner

  Saskatchewan Gotta Do’s

  CRUSH some drinks and get nuts at the Crazy Cactus in Saskatoon. Tell them Jay and Dan sent ya!

  RIP the family around the Wascana Centre park in Regina for a beauty of a walk.

  WHISTLE back in time and say hi to Scotty the T. rex, the 65-million-year-old dinobahd in Eastend.

  Alberta: Choice Cuts and Truck Nuts

  Bahd Bands

  Ian Tyson

  Jann Arden

  Emerson Drive

  The Stampeders

  Stereos

  Corb Lund

  Paul Brandt

  Five Notable Bahds

  Bret “The Hitman” Hart. Wrestling legend from a wrestling dynasty. Jonovision guest. Perfect gentleman.

  W.O. Mitchell. One of our most beloved authors. Posed the question plaguing Canadians for generations: Who Has Seen the Wind?

  Kurt Browning. Four-time world cham
pion figure skater.

  Michael J. Fox. The actor of our generation. Family Ties and Back to the Future. Made skateboarding, guitar playing and—somehow—even being a Republican cool.

  Nellie McClung. Women’s rights activist known for using her great sense of humour in arguments. Smart and funny. Solid Canadian combo.

  Bonus Bahd

  Conrad Bain. The dad from Diff ’rent Strokes was born in Alberta!

  The Game of Our Lives

  Torrens

  People are always curious as to how I became an Edmonton Oilers fan. When I was a kid, fabled CBC broadcaster Peter Gzowski spent a year with the Oilers, when they were new to the NHL and Wayne Gretzky, Paul Coffey, Mark Messier, Kevin Lowe and company were all kids. Like, eighteen-year-old kids.

  Gzowski’s book was called The Game of Our Lives, and it became my bible. It combined my obsession over the game with my curiosity/nosiness. The behind-the-scenes aspect was intoxicating to me, and I devoured every anecdote, from on-ice drills to pranks played on the plane.

  It’s interesting to reread the book now, knowing what they went on to accomplish as individuals and as a team. But that’s how my lifelong Oilers fandom was cemented.

  I got to meet Peter a few times over the years, and I’m pretty sure I told him every single time just how much I loved the book. If you knew him at all, you can imagine how uncomfortable that made him.

  Last year, I went to a game at Rexall Place. My first one ever. (In the days when it was Northlands Coliseum, I didn’t have the kind of bank to make the trip from PEI.) Tom Gazzola, the Oilers’ video host, heard I was coming and asked who my favourite player was. I thought about it for a minute. When I was a kid, it was Andy Moog, because we were both portly goalies. These days, it was Dave Semenko, I told him. Because we’re both used to playing supporting roles.

  When I arrived, the team presented me with an official Oilers jersey emblazoned with “27” (Semenko’s number) and “TORRENS” on the back. I had to really concentrate not to cry. Pal-berta’s full of bahds.

  Bahd Ambassadors

  Tom Gazzola, Chris Wescott and Ryan Frankson

  As the video crew for the Edmonton Oilers, Tom Gazzola, Chris Westcott and Ryan Frankson have their fingers on the pulse of what’s crackin’ in E-town. Here are a couple of their favourite hotspots.

  •Tres Carnales TaquerÍa. Solid Mexican.

  •Pizzeria Rosso. Food and drinks.

  •Woodwork Downtown. Food and cocktails.

  •Meat (off Whyte Avenue). Meat.

  Banff Bahd

  Taggart

  I’ve had some great times in the Alberta mountains. Back in the mid-’90s, OLP was sidelined for a week (Maida threw out his back and couldn’t move), so I went skiing at Sunshine Village in Banff for a bit—ripping up some slopes and falling on my ass continually while trying to snowboard. I was never meant for that means of transportation. High risk of wrist and ass-bone injuries. No thanks.

  I went to the best stag ever in Jasper Park Lodge. My bahd Tim Palmer was getting married, and his brother, Al—also a good bahd—was the golf pro at JPL, so he dialled us into a beautiful lodge, where we had such a great time golfing and walking around, enjoying the multiple mountain vistas. That place is the ultimate relaxation spot. Every inch of it is gorgeous.

  Bahd Ambassadors

  Jay Onrait and Reid Wilkins

  TSN anchor Jay Onrait is a native of Athabasca, Alberta, so he finds plenty of comfort food in his home province. So does his good friend Reid Wilkins, host of Inside Sports and the Oilers hockey show on 630 CHED radio. Thanks to Reid for sharing his recommendations for where to eat and drink in Edmonton.

  •Black Dog Freehouse. Great “dive bar” on Whyte Avenue. Good spot to listen to live music and meet folks of all ages and lifestyles. Stickiest countertops in the west!

  •Cook County Saloon. Underage two-steppers abound.

  •Corso#32/Bar Bricco/Uccellino. Three Italian restaurants side by side on Jasper Avenue offering a variety of dishes. Get a hearty plate of homemade pasta at Corso#32, or head to Uccellino for some tapas. When Corso#32 opened, you’d have to wait months to get a reservation.

  •Northern Chicken. New addition to the Edmonton food scene. Co-owner Matt Phillips grew up loving fried chicken. Now he’s perfected the recipe and serves it. The Doritos mac ’n’ cheese is a must-have side dish.

  •Rostizado. Same gentlemen who own Tres Carnales. This is their option for more formal Modern Mexican cuisine. The chicken, beef and pork platters are all delicious. The roasted cauliflower and sweet onions are perfect sides. Located across from Rogers Place.

  •The Lingnan/Chicken for Lunch. Owned by the Quon family, these Edmonton institutions earned national attention when featured on a TV series called The Family Restaurant. The Lingnan offers Chinese dishes for all tastes, while Chicken for Lunch is one of the city’s busiest lunch spots. Order quick or risk losing your spot in line!

  •Underground Tap & Grill. Best beer list in the city, with seventy-two rotating taps featuring craft brews from around Alberta and the world. Excellent food menu too. I recommend the bacon/avocado grilled cheese sandwich.

  •Highlevel Diner. Historic spot near the University of Alberta at the south end of the landmark High Level Bridge. Six cinnamon buns to go? Yes, please!

  •Costco. $1.50 hot dogs.

  #GetMeBackFromFortMac

  Torrens

  In the spring of 2016, a wildfire unlike any I’d ever seen ravaged Alberta. It was out of control for several weeks, and though most of it raged in relatively uninhabited parts of the province, Canadians held their breath as it danced around Fort McMurray a couple of times but retreated.

  Then it didn’t. Winds changed and so did the intensity of the fire. Within hours, the fire engulfed the town and panic-stricken residents grabbed what they could and did what they had to in order to get out of there.

  Of course, in this day and age, most of the people fleeing were able to capture video of their harrowing escapes. The images were terrifying. Flames licking the sides of their vehicle as they inched their way out of the danger zone, like a morbid parade, praying they didn’t run out of gas. Almost in the same way that your brain couldn’t process planes flying into buildings on 9/11, images of cars driving through walls of flame were inconceivable.

  There was one video in particular of a mom driving through a tunnel of fire with sparks landing on her windshield. You could hear her kids in the back asking hopeful questions, wanting reassurance, and the tension in her voice as she tried to calmly respond.

  It really rattled me. Thinking about having to flee the place we love with the people we love through atrocious circumstances was inconceivable. It was like a Hollywood blockbuster, but real.

  I knew I wanted to do something. But what could I really do so many miles away?

  Being a father has made me two things: wimpier and braver. I’m wimpier because I don’t want anything to happen to me that will leave the girls without a father, but braver in that I’ll do anything to protect them.

  Fort McMurray is home away from home to so many East Coast sons and daughters, fathers and mothers who sacrificed a lot to provide for their families. They went where the work was and left families behind so that they could give them a better life.

  I can relate to that.

  They’re also people with a good work ethic, who don’t want handouts and are happy to put in the time to make a wage to put food on their table back home. It’s very admirable, really.

  Soon the stories started to emerge. A family that had lost everything had no place to stay. A couple and their dogs were stranded at the airport. A grandmother who’d been helping her daughter had to flee and had lost contact with her.

  Home.

  These people had lost their home.

  Home.

  People rallied immediately in typical Canadian fashion. Every story of hurt was countered by a story of hope. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time.<
br />
  But I just kept thinking about home. What it means to me and what losing it would feel like. So I put out a tweet saying that if anyone from the East Coast was affected by the fire and wanted to come home but didn’t have the means, I’d help arrange their travel.

  That was it. With no real plan other than my sincere offer, I decided that it didn’t matter if I didn’t know anyone in Fort McMurray or have any family there. What mattered was that people were in need and I wanted to help in my own small way.

  Boy, did I underestimate the response.

  I wrestle with using social media as a place to do community work. It’s obviously a great way to reach a great number of people, but the notion that what I was doing could somehow be perceived as being for personal gain grossed me out.

  Ultimately, though, I just decided that I knew the reason I was making the offer. And I didn’t have anything to promote or gain from the exposure.

  The initiative took off like a rocket. I started getting messages right away. “Can you help me?” “Can you help my parents?” “Can I put you in touch with a shelter that has lots of people who need to get somewhere?”

  Yes, sure, I said. I just kept saying yes, secretly not really knowing how I could manage to help more than a few.

  I used my own personal points to book three or four tickets home. Then I used cash to buy a couple more.

  But the demand kept coming. Almost every single person who got in touch with me started by saying, “You have to know if I had any other option, I wouldn’t be contacting you.” It broke my heart.

  So I put the ask out: Who had Aeroplan miles they could part with? Out of nowhere, people were sending messages saying, “I have two thousand—they’re yours if you can use them!”

  Soon people were offering drives, couches and gas to those who were driving home. We helped get a couple of Via Rail tickets for people who couldn’t fly. I was pairing this person who needed a lift with that person who needed gas money.

  Comedian Ron James asked what he could do. So did Gerry Dee. I paired them each directly with families that needed some help. Ron got the tickets booked and the evacuees on their way. Gerry even booked a mother and son a room at Pearson airport so they had somewhere to go during their five-hour layover.