I feel as though I have betrayed the trust of my minuscule, but faithful, readership by not posting on Sunday. I was getting into a little groove there for a few consecutive weeks, but this past Sunday was spent doing handyman work at my sister’s new house and then watching the conclusion of the Olympics. I’d really like to spend a long time talking about the Olympic spirit, and the greatness of athletic feats, but I didn’t pay enough attention to the sports which actually encapsulate those things (I’m thinking cross country skiing and long-track speed skating). Instead, I just watched a lot of curling, which I actually learned to care about, and then a lot of sports that just prove how big some dude’s cajones are and, to be balanced, which female athlete has the biggest ‘girl balls’ (a phrase introduced to me by Dr. Kelso in an episode of Scrubs and which could possibly be more offensive than I find it to be).
All of that said, I would like to talk about an Olympics-themed topic: Canada. My friend Cody (who is becoming a mini-star here) and I had a long text message exchange in the first few days of the Olympics regarding Canada, and the possibility of living there. I think, by the end, we both agreed that it was probably a great place to live (especially Vancouver, in my case), because the people have a propensity to be nice, kind of wonky, like the outdoors, and produce generally pretty good music (Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, Michael Bublé, and recent-times Nelly Furtado excepted(I like that ‘I’m like a bird’ song, what can I say?)). Other factors we discussed were the large amount of successful Canadian comedians, the love of hockey (this was key for Cody), the low cost-of-living, and the free healthcare. There may have been a few more.
After that exchange, which was pretty playful, I started thinking about Canada a little more seriously. And then I listened to an episode of This American Life entitled, “Canadians Among Us.” The initial premise of that show was to document all the people ‘influential’ in American culture who are actually Canadian. The list includes Lorne Michaels, Dan Akroyd, Mike Myers, Neil Young, Jason Priestly, Pam Anderson, and, I don’t know, a bunch of other famous people plus all the hockey stars.
But, one of the interviews tried to get down to the real differences between Canadian and American culture. The point was that many of the Canadians who come in seem inherently American (Neil Young is the paragon of this). But, the person being interviewed saw it differently—he saw in Neil Young a universality to which he attributed American’s perceived American-ness of Young’s songs, but he also saw in his songs a very isolated, Northern feel which he said was distinctly Canadian.
Shortly after this discussion, the interviewer asked the guy what his favorite part of being a Canadian living in America was (he had apparently lived in America for some time as a writer). This led to a discussion about the difference between interviewing a Canadian and an American. Canadians were less forthcoming, and a big part of the process is just drawing them out and making them comfortable enough to talk. Americans, he said, were so much themselves that they often performed a lot of outlandish behavior without prompting. There was always entertainment, because everyone was being themselves all the time, and of course, some people are kind of insane, and some others are completely out of their trees (thanks to my friend Kaity for introducing me to that phrase).
The big difference, according to this guy, is that the countries themselves are different. Canada is a physical place; America is a place of ideas, a massing together of individualisms. Americans are so individualistic, they can’t conceive of the nation as a whole. He said that Canada has the absolute opposite problem; they’ve needed to be collective for so long, people do not feel as though they can be individuals and still be Canadian. He thought this was because Canada is more youthful as a country, and that the difference is clearly tangible in the wilderness. He said there are places, even 100 miles from Winnipeg (this is not where today’s title comes from—you’ll have to be patient), where one can go and feel as though he or she is the first person that’s ever been there. In America, all the places like that have a history, and so the rush one gets from standing in a beautiful piece of American wilderness, he argues, is the feeling that it is special because of all the great adventurers who have come before.
The maturity of the American society, and the history, he said, make it impossible to do something new, impossible to break out of the mold, and so we are forced to be more and more outlandish to try to do so. (In contrast, Canadians think, ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly do this, because no one’s ever done it before!’) This is the point that struck me as most relevant in his discussion. (I’m not entirely sure I agree with the wilderness thing, because whenever I’ve been in the wilderness, I haven’t thought about the ‘greats’ that were there before me. I don’t get a kick from standing in someone’s footsteps. I am, however, aware that I am not the first person who’s tread there, and I do sometimes think about the regular folks that were there before, so maybe he’s half right.) In senior year of college, I had a late night conversation with my friend Jason about the death of the American wanderer—that is, that not only are there no more Jack Kerouac-types, there can’t even be a Jack Kerouac-type in modern day America. On the surface, I don’t really care about Kerouac—I don’t think hitchhiking, beatnik, drug-addicts are generally a good thing for society, or for the reputation of young Americans. I think we can do without them. Conversely, while I have real problems with what Chris McCandless (Into the Wild) did because of his rationale for not talking to his family for three years, I have no problem with the fact that he was able to travel and live the way he did.
But, this whole ‘death of the American Wanderer’ discussion is representative of the feeling that many young people have (at least, I know I have) that we are bound by some externally imposed ‘natural’ order, and that we are forced into a mold and to do anything different would inspire a great deal of scrutiny that most people don’t want to have to deal with. That’s why there are 150,000 people in law school in America—it’s not because being a lawyer’s a hell of a lot of fun. On the other side of the coin, it’s also why Chris McCandless existed, and why there are so many semi-entitled twenty-somethings trying to ‘find themselves’ backpacking through Europe or Australia–while these people are not ‘followers,’ per se, they are, in many ways, reactionaries. In my view, that’s not much better–if one does something simply because it’s the opposite of ‘what everyone else does,’ that person is still defining their behavior based on the actions of others (except, doing it this way often results in a good deal of self-righteousness, which is a little obnoxious).
If I am to believe the Canadian guy above, this confinement is a distinctly American feeling, because we have an old society, and everything that can be done has already been done. But, I am not sure if that’s the case, or if it’s a distinctly age-related feeling. Perhaps this is something everyone at this age feels. Or perhaps it’s just a certain subset of this age-group that is thoughtful and strives to do, for a living, something that it deems worthwhile and important. See, this is the problem with being American—I have no idea whether this is a solely American feeling, or whether it’s more universal than that, because I only have access to my feelings, which are completely dependent upon the fact that I am who I have grown up to be, and (a pretty big) part of that identity comes from being American.
I guess the whole point of this tome is that the Olympics made me think about living abroad—something I haven’t really done since I was actively living abroad. And, as a result of those thoughts, I was confronted with my Americanism, and what that means, and how my life is shaped by it. I’m not willing to say it’s good or bad, and I kind of feel bad for condemning huge tracts of people in my age-group for their decisions. Some days, I feel like giving everyone the benefit of the doubt–we twenty-somethings are all trying to figure things out, and people need to be given a little slack to do it the way they want to. Most days, though, I feel like there are right and wrong ways to ‘figure it out,’ and that it’s never okay to be a jerk, especially when one doesn’t have to work and gets to travel around Europe.
(Before I go, here it is, the reason for today’s title: I don’t really hate Winnipeg. In fact, I’ve never even been there, and could hardly tell you where it is on a map. I just really like this song.)
As always, keep your head down, strive for balance, and walk with one foot in front of the other.
Balancing on Painted Curbstones 