Let me just start by saying this: Canada is wild. Not like grizzly-bear-fighting-a-moose wild (although that might happen at their hockey rinks), but more like culturally polite fever dream wild. We’ve crossed the border into America’s 51st State—Canada—and let me tell you: things up here are just… off. Nice, but off.
First of all, I need to address something deeply upsetting:
It’s the letter Z. Pronounced “ZEE.” Not “ZED.”
What even is Zed? That sounds like a medieval plague doctor or a villain from Power Rangers. Oh wait, IT IS. Pretty sure I saw Rita Repulsa and Lord Zedd co-governing Ontario from a Tim Hortons drive-thru. Fenster from the Moon is in the back cobbling together maple-flavored monster minions out of hockey pucks and polite grievances. “Make my monster apologize!”
And don’t get me started on the food. I don’t want to say Canadians eat funny—but Canadians eat funny. Take poutine. They act like it’s some culinary revelation. It’s fries. With gravy. And cheese curds. Which sounds like the kind of thing you invent at 2 a.m. in college when the dining hall is closed and all you have is a microwave, a can of gravy, and sadness.
Look, I love cheese fries as much as the next red-blooded American, but we do it right—with Kraft Singles, thank you very much. Melted with love and processed confidence. Cheese curds are what you scrape off the factory floor before real cheese happens.
Then there’s Tim Hortons, or “Timmies” if you’re local. It’s like someone described Starbucks over the phone to a Canadian guy and he said, “Yeah, I’ll give that a shot, but with worse coffee and more hockey posters.” You can get a donut, a sausage biscuit, and an existential crisis for under five bucks. They have a thing called a “double-double”, which I thought was some epic Canadian dessert. Turns out, it’s just coffee with two creams and two sugars. That’s not a drink, that’s a cry for help.
Meanwhile, their snacks are confusing. “All Dressed” chips taste like someone dared a bag of Ruffles to wrestle a spice rack and lose. Ketchup chips? That’s not flavor, that’s a mistake. Bobby tried one and said, “It tastes like disappointment with a hint of French fries that never had a chance.”
We’ve also been navigating the language barrier. Which I didn’t expect to exist, because, you know, it’s English. But nope. Canadians pronounce everything like they’ve taken a vow to confuse Americans.
- “Sorry” is pronounced “Sore-yuh.”
- “About” is “Aboot.”
- “Process” is “Proh-cess.”
- “Centre” has an e at the end for no reason other than colonial guilt.
Also, they still use coins. I bought a bottle of water and got back what looked like a Renaissance Faire starter kit. Loonies, toonies, quarters with caribou on them—am I supposed to spend this or forge it into armor?
Geographically, we’re in Toronto, which they pronounce “Tronno,” because consonants are clearly optional up here. Nice city, though. Very clean. Very polite. I sneezed and four people blessed me, one apologized for my allergies. Then they gave me a maple leaf as a keepsake.
One thing I will say: the people here are absurdly friendly. Like, almost suspiciously friendly. It’s the kind of friendliness that makes you wonder, “Am I in a movie? Is this a prank show?” Andrew said the Tim Hortons guy gave him a hug after messing up his order. In America, that would involve a Yelp war and emotional damage.
Anyway, we’re wrapping up our stay in America’s 51st State—where the Prime Minister is probably just a moose in a suit and you can’t say “zee” without being fined by the Queen (who no longer technically rules them but still appears on their money like an ex who won’t go away).
All I’m saying is this:
ZEE not ZED.
Kraft not curds.
Starbucks, not Timmies.
And for the love of all things decent, fries don’t need gravy—they need freedom.
See you soon, real America. I’ll be crossing the border back with a bag full of loonies, a half-eaten butter tart, and a strong desire to teach our neighbors how to pronounce the alphabet without summoning Lord Zedd.
— Ian 🇺🇸🍁
Still confused, mildly caffeinated, possibly banned from Tim Hortons for calling it sad Dunkin’
Direct Line News is a Maryland-based free-access publication committed to the Republican reform tradition.
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