Differences, High and Low

Differences between Canada and the U.S. are legion, in areas both high and low, important and unimportant. The Canadians charge tax on stamps at the post office. In the U.S., a 41-cent stamp costs 41 cents, until next month when it will cost 42 cents, but then it will be a 42-cent stamp. I am always surprised when I go to the Canadian post office and ask for one 51-cent stamp and they tell me that will be 57 cents. In Canada, the public radio station is the powerful station, not, as in the U.S., the weak-signal station. In Canada, alcohol is so expensive because of high taxes that I can’t grasp how anyone can afford to be an alcoholic. In the U.S., by contrast, there’s a special market niche to reach out to the Thunderbird Wine crowd. In the U.S., virtually every kind of gambling finds an easy way to exist, but in Canada, if you are, for example, a quilt guild and you want to make a quilt and raffle it to raise some money, you have to incorporate legally as a non-profit charitable group that is eligible to do such a gambling-type thing. Amazing differences.

Like the U.S., Canada has a bicameral government, which includes the Parliament and the Senate. Even acknowledging the very considerable differences between a parliamentary and a congressional-type arrangement, the two systems might appear parallel. However, Canada’s Senate is by appointment only and the appointments are for life. In the U.S., it only appears that, say, Senators Helms, Thurmond, Byrd, and Kennedy are appointed for life: the ones who are still alive actually have to get themselves elected every six years, but it is only a formality.

A very high difference, of course, is that Canada has a real monarch, whereas the U.S. has only a pretend one, though the pretend one’s power is getting a little out of hand. Elizabeth II is a regular appearance in our lives up here in B.C.: she’s on the money, for one thing, but she also gets a very nice framed, color portrait of considerable size on all the ferries. It used to be a photo of her looking quite young, but of recent times, they’ve aged her up a bit, now that she’s pushing 80. She is “Her Highness,” and I guess the Canadians are “Their Lowness.” I don’t know whether the Canadians would prefer to have a queen; i.e., whether they would vote her off the island given the chance, but I suspect that they’d rather, for the most part, not have to answer the question. I’ve never much heard anybody say anything good or bad about her. Maybe when she goes to her final reward, I imagine them saying, the monarchy will just quietly go away and nobody will have to actually reject anyone. Because she’s a queen without power, she doesn’t have a scheming Rasputin at her side. Pretend King George of the U.S., of course, has real power, so he has a real Rasputin at his side, named Cheney, and that is an important difference.

The queen does get a representative, though. That would be called the Governor General and that office is not infrequently in my years here held by a woman and often by one of a decidedly different ethnicity than the queen’s, but the appointment is expected to alternate not between or among ethnic cultures but between an anglophone and a francophone person. I’m not actually sure what is the range of the Governor General’s duties, but it does include appointing those senators (with the advice of the Prime Minister), and the opening of Parliament when said Governor General gives what is called ‘The Throne Speech.’ The Governor General is also called the “Vice Regal Representative,’ and her/his husband/wife is called the “Vice Regal Consort.” Now, we have nothing to compare with that. Would Dick Cheney like to be called the ‘Vice Regal President”? Perhaps. Would Lynn Cheney like to be called the “Vice Regal Consort”? You bet your life. For the most part, however, it appears that the Governor General is largely a Ceremonial Post in the same way that the Queen is largely a Ceremonial Post. In the U.S., we probably don’t have nearly enough officially Ceremonial Posts.

At Christmas time, Canada’s Queen emits a Christmas message to her subjects here in North America and that message is broadcast a couple of times on Christmas Day on the CBC so that no one need miss it. I always listen to it to see what she has to say. Happily, she has very little to say: she makes some mention of the religious nature of the day and its meaning, but for the most part she urges their lownesses to do good work, be cheerful, think kindly of one another, and keep in touch. It’s a nice message for a secular tourist to hear, but also for the actual audience. I think of it as a kind of imperfect parallel to the U.S. pretend king’s State of the Union address. I admire the Queen’s brevity, but of course it is a ‘message,’ not an ‘address.’ How much nicer if it were the State of the Union Message. I admire the optimism of the Queen’s Message, but of course she gives it on a day of merriment and celebration, whereas the pretend king gives his at the end of January, the really cruellest month, T.S. Eliot to the contrary notwithstanding. Hard to be optimistic then.

Perhaps the U.S. could learn a lesson from these differences and similarities and could institute a New and Improved State of the Union Message to be delivered to the country at Halloween. We who listen and they who speak could all wear neat costumes and then dance around a bonfire. Or would that be more like Guy Fawkes Day?