2005-06-21

It�s getting to the point now, having been away from Canada for a decent chunk of time, that I�m becoming mindlessly nostalgic over anything Canadian, no matter how trifling or stupid. Of all things, I find myself longing to see a Tim Hortons doughnut shop. Why? Why? I�ve probably bought comestibles at Tim Hortons a grand total of three times in my life. Tim Hortons shops are grubby dives staffed by Cro Magnon throwbacks in polyester. If I were still living in Canada and all the Tim Hortons shops magically disappeared overnight, I would neither notice nor care. And yet, the fact remains. I miss Tim Hortons.

Also: the Canadian flag. I�m not a rah-rah patriot; I�ve never knowingly brandished, saluted nor �honoured� my flag; as far as I�m concerned flags are a handy desk-labelling system at the UN and that�s about it: and yet. I see a red maple leaf and I get all misty. This state of affairs is really irritating me. I hate being the kind of person who indulges in nostalgia for its own sake. Like, gosh, remember Molson Canadian beer? NO, because IT IS SHIT BEER AND I NEVER DRANK IT. Remember Hockey Night in Canada? NO, because I HATE HOCKEY AND NEVER WATCHED IT. I lived in Canada, and now I live in Great Britain, and maybe someday I�ll move back to Canada and maybe I won�t and that�s the end of it. But I�m stuck with this gut-level reflex to hone in on any passing North American accent, this hard-wired instinct of like being attracted to like. I don�t like it. Anyway, yesterday I used the word �cuppa�, so I�m now officially naturalised. Moot point.

Speaking of retarded, pointless nostalgia, did you know that two hundred years ago, Admiral Lord Nelson sailed bravely out to sea and met his death facing down the vastly larger French navy and blah blah whatever? Yeah. Well, living in the naval capital of England, I get Nelson up the proverbial wazoo every which way I turn, and man, that pointy hat really chafes. The city is having some big �Festival of the Sea� this weekend with a Trafalgar theme (huge banners crowing �SOCKED IT TO THE FRENCH AND HOW!� exultantly emblazon the town hall), and today they�re doing a rehearsal of the planned air show. Low-flying aircraft have been swooping deafeningly overhead all morning. Nice one, Portsmouth: let�s celebrate a historical wartime victory by actively traumatising any poor dribbling pensioner old enough to remember the Blitz. I hope they crash into the Spinnaker Tower, and really make it a day to remember.