Wiretap - Into America

Episode Date: June 22, 2020

This episode is all about Americans and Canadians: the ways in which we fundamentally differ, and the ways in which we're pretty much the same.

It's not just you. News in Canada and around the world is moving at an incredible pace, which is where we come in. I'm Jamie Poisson and I host Frontburner, Canada's most popular daily news podcast. And what we try to do is hit the breaks on a story that you actually want to know more about. So try us out. Follow Front Burner wherever you get your podcast, Front Burner, stories you want to follow five days a week. This is a CBC podcast. You're listening to Wiretap with Jonathan Goldstein on CBC Radio 1. Today's episode, Into America. Thursday.

My friend Starley calls me up from Brooklyn and tells me how she met a woman that morning who was cursing a pile of laundry on the street. She couldn't carry it all home, so I helped her, Starley says. When they arrived at the woman's house, the woman told her that she was lonely, as she'd only recently moved to the city and had no friends. Before they parted, the woman asked for Starley's phone number, which Starley gave her, correct, all but for the last digit. I just knew we can never really have a friendship, Starley says,

and changing just one number made it feel like a smaller lie. As you get older, making friends becomes more difficult. Even keeping them does. And so you end up having no choice but to start enjoying your own company. more than you might otherwise be inclined. I am reminded of John Candy in the movie Space Balls, a Star Wars parody where he played a Chewbacca-like character named Barf. I'm half-man and half-dog, he said,

and so I'm my own best friend. That woman with her laundry, Starly, me, and perhaps all of us, must all learn to become a little more like Barf. Sunday. Starly calls up again, this time in a nostalgic mood. She begins reminding me of when we first met, when we both worked at the same radio station in Chicago. Remember when you first moved to America and didn't know anything about our culture, she asks? Remember how star-y-eyed you were? Star and stripy-eyed, I correct. Do you remember, she continues, how I introduced you to all-American treats like soft honey-glazed pretzels and aerosol cheese?

Sure I do, I say. To some extent, my friendship with Starly has always been a relationship built on cultural exchange. In Chicago, riding the bus to work, I used to try and teach her the ten provinces. Saskatchewan, Manitoba, she would do to flee recite. And when she comes to visit me in Montreal, she acts like Alice down the rabbit hole. During her last visit, when we went out for steamed hot dogs, she overheard me asking the counterman where the mustard was. La Moutard is sur la Pubelle, he answered.

Such a beautiful language, she said. If I have a girl, I'm going to name her Pubelle. Moutard if it's a boy. Not only does it sound like a unitarred for cows, I said, but Moutard means mustard. Well, I think it sounds debonair, she said. And Pubelle, I informed her, that means garbage. Well, I think it sounds southern and feminine, she replied, growing slightly annoyed.

But now on the telephone, there is no trace of annoyance. Only bon omie. When we lived in Chicago, she continues, do you remember how out of place you were? You were like my cousin Balky or Mork for Mork. Remember on your first day at the office how you tried to pee in the water fountain? That's a lie, I say. And anyway, where exactly are you going with all this? It's at this point that Starleys brings her question on me,

her condescending, patronizing question. Did you hear what happened in America? What are you referring to, your new president? You think I'm referring to, yeah, that Barack Obama is our new president. Well, yes, yes, word has traveled to Canada. All the way to Canada. Mm-hmm. It was very exciting here.

I'll bet. We're a respectable country now. Oh, do you feel that way? I feel patriotic. I'm bursting with pride. It's a great day in history. You must feel pretty left out being in Canada. Well, I mean... You're not going to feel the pride that we feel.

Well, I feel, I don't know, adjacent to pride, I guess. Not the same, not the same at all. Like, I'm bursting and you're kind of sleeping with pride. And, like, I feel like it's been so long since I felt good about America that I wanted to kind of do something to commemorate it. I wanted to do something to honor that feeling. Well, you're not going to burst into song, are you? I'm not going to burst into song, but there's only 10 provinces, but there's 50 states in America. Okay.

And that's a lot. Even Americans have a hard time remembering all 50. And so I assembled, in honor of our new president, President Obama, I've assembled a sort of virtual road trip across America, Jonathan. Oh, yeah? And I'm going to be performing this road trip with my upstairs neighbor, Arthur, who you also know, I think. Yeah, I've met Arthur. Okay. So, Arthur, my neighbor and I, he's going to come down to my apartment. He lives right upstairs, and we're going to perform the 50 states. You're going to do the... For me?

Yeah, because you're my friend. And I want you to feel a part of this amazing piece of history that's happening. That's amazing. And Arthur agreed to do this? Yeah. What's in it for him? I had to offer him a sandwich. Uh-huh. Okay, so I'm going to get Arthur down here, okay? Yeah, sure. This is exciting.

Arthur! Starly, what are you doing? I'm calling Arthur. Arthur! Starly! Arthur, get out of here! That's what you do? You don't call him on the phone?

I'm on the phone? I can't call him. I'm on the phone with you. This is how our building works. It's very, very thin walls. Arthur! I think he's coming. Hold on.

I hear him on the stairs. Oh, okay. This is how it happened all the time. Whenever I need some sugar, like the plunger or something. You just yell through the wall. It's better for the environment. How exactly is yelling at the top of your lungs better for it? Arthur is here. Arthur, will you pick up the extension?

Yeah, right, yeah. Hello? Arthur? Arthur, you remember Jonathan, right? Oh, hi, how's it going? Good. How exactly did you get roped into this? Starly said that I was going to be participating in a cultural exchange

and getting a sandwich. Upon completion of the job. Uh-huh. So Jonathan, just sit back and enjoy the 50 states. Okay. Okay, cool, thanks. Okay. Arthur, you stand over there, look at me, face forward, shoulders relaxed, deep breath.

Now, I'm just going to turn down the tape here for a moment to explain to you a little something about Starly Kind. She loves production value. And everything, from doing the dishes to taking the dog for a walk, becomes a production, a big fat production. For instance, one morning Starley woke up and decided she wanted to see a live panda. And so what did she do? No, she did not rent a documentary or even go to the city zoo. She flew to China. Another example?

When she moved from Chicago to New York, she had a going-away party. But unlike you or me, Starly Kine invited every single person she'd ever met in Chicago. Work acquaintances, waitresses from restaurants she ate at, shop keeps, everyone. She rented at a hall and hundreds of people came. There were several musical acts, spoken word performers, and in auction, where she had people bid on the belongings she was leaving behind, book jackets, used towels, and half-eaten boxes of cereal. So that she had brought down her upstairs neighbor

and had written a little play for them to perform for my benefit, to instruct me in American geography or something, that for Star Lee is par for the course. Deep breaths, just like we practiced. Johnny, I'm going to put on the speakerphone, okay? Okay. Okay. Ready?

Yeah, let's do this. Go. Vermont. I went to the last fish show ever in Burlington, Vermont. Worst day of my life. Rhode Island. Fun fact. Hanging above my bed is a poster of Buddy Sianci, ex-Mayer of Providence.

He went to jail for beating up someone with a ceramic fireplace log. It's true. Connecticut. I went to my friend Whitney's house for Christmas, and a wiener dog named Oscar fell asleep in my lap. Pennsylvania. Philadelphia's Muter Museum has a display of over 2,000 objects extracted from people's throats, through people's throats, including rusty safety pins, buttons, and childhood toys.

New York! A stranger I met on the street once told me the best pizza in all of New York is Picnic Pizza. It's Exit 19 off Route 28 in a Holiday Inn parking lot. What? New Jersey. Frankly, I'm still stunned by picnic pizza. Maryland. Home of the Charm City Roller Girls.

Delaware. Official state bird, the Blue Hen Chicken. Virginia. When I was there, I met a cop named Bill Murray and a cab driver named James Taylor. West Virginia. Birthplace of Olympic gold medalist Mary Louretton and also Don Nott's. Kentucky. Unofficial state cocktail, the mint julep.

According to the nerd who wrote the Wikipedia entry, mint juleps were mentioned in the season finale of Golden Girls. Tennessee. Home of Dolly Parton and the Great Smoky Mountains. Hubba, hubba. Georgia. Check out the Stone Mountain Laser Light Spectacular, where lasers dance off the carved faces of Confederate heroes.

Alabama. Botanist George Washington Carver found hundreds of new uses for the peanut. He also loved giving backrubs. It's true. Florida. According to Russell Banks' book, Continental Drift, Florida is where Hope Goes to Die. Louisiana. Best Bloody Mary I ever had. Arkansas. Freeman Owens invented slow motion, which filmmakers have been using to emotionally manipulate us ever since. Oklahoma. 6,300 of its bridges are in disrepair. Missouri.

Childhood home of Arthur Jones. He's a former fat kid. The ice cream cone was also invented here in 1904. Iowa. Arthur. If you build it, they will come. Illinois. The movie Lucas was filmed in Glen Ellen, which captured on film the world's first slow clap. Indiana. Famous Hoosiers include Garfield, Dan Quayle, David Letterman, and my uncle George and Aunt Garnell. Ohio. Ohio is dead to me.

Why? It knows why. Michigan. Detroit Pistin, Tayshon Prince, hasn't missed a basketball game in three years. Way to perfectly attend, Tayshan. Wisconsin. The Ramada, in Fondelac, Wisconsin, is haunted by a ghost named Walter. Minnesota.

Kitty litter was invented here. North Dakota. Fastest growing population of people over 85. South Dakota. Home of beloved Native American crazy legs, whose name on Lakota meant into the wilderness. That his friends just called him curly. Wyoming.

State dinosaurs are triceratops. Nebraska. When I was six, I went to the University of Nebraska State Museum in Lincoln. I saw the skeleton of a giant woolly mammoth. Best day of my life. Kansas. Amelia Earhart was from Kansas. She was hot.

Hubba, hubba. Colorado. While traveling through the Rocky Mountains, Alfred Packer allegedly ate five of his traveling companions. University of Colorado named a cafeteria after him. The slogan, have a friend for lunch. New Mexico. Kevin Zucker's mom lives here.

Texas. Houston postal worker Jefferson David McKissick spent 29 years of his life constructing a museum dedicated to his favorite fruit, the orange. He called it The Orange Show. It's pretty crazy, but in a good way. Nevada. In leaving Las Vegas, Nicholas Kay decides to drink himself to death. He meets a cute prostitute.

They make a deal where she's going to be cool with his drinking as long as he's cool with her hoaring. Here's the scenery crashes into a coffee table and gets covered with glass. Oh, oh, whoa, I'm a prickly pear. I'm a prickly pear. Idaho. Mashed potatoes supposedly cure hangovers. Montana. Rolling Stone called its Governor Brian Switzer Hot.

Hubba, hubba. Washington. Mount St. Helens erupted on May 18, 1980. Oregon. Jolie, my cousin, lives in Portland. She sends me earrings every year of my birthday. Too bad my ears aren't pierced. California.

There's a 150-tonged concrete dinosaur along the side of the road of Cabazon, California. It was recently bought by a bunch of creationists who don't even believe dinosaurs existed. There's a brain teaser for you. Hawaii. Kind means excellent in Hawaii, and it's also my last name. Alaska. In Alaska, there are a lot of things. One of them is the world's largest chocolate waterfall.

Watch out. Johnny? Yeah. So what did you think? Do you like it? That was amazing. You really think so? You liked it?

I loved it. Thank you very much. Arthur Flushing. He's totally red right now. I was just trying to get all the blocking rights, so Starley wouldn't yell at me. Do you yell at him? I wanted to do it good. He did good, though.

That was great. Hey, Starley, could I get that sandwich now? Oh, yeah, one sandwich coming up. here you go wait this is it looks good right it's two pieces of white bread on a plate what are you talking about

this doesn't look like a very good sandwich do you have any mustard? I don't have any mustard I was expecting a deli quality sandwich all you said was sandwich okay guys I'm gonna jump off here in between the bread not the two pieces of bread it looks like a sandwich I'm gonna cover the room they would say oh

some sandwiches with that I can't eat a dry sandwich. Who are you here? You are there something? When did you be a little handy? So we finally found a podcast that speaks to you. Pure bliss. It's so good that when you finish the final episode, it leaves a hole in your heart and your schedule.

What now? Personally, is here for you. It's a collection of true stories that explore what it means to be, well, Human. The best part, there are six incredible seasons to dive into, with more on the way. Personally, get lost in someone else's life. Available now, wherever you personally get your podcasts. Wednesday. It is perhaps a good thing that Starley has just given me a refresher course on the US of A, as I am supposed to deliver a lecture there at a radio conference in Illinois. noise on Friday. The thing is, though, that I still haven't finished writing it, and I'm

nervous, so I call out my friend David, a Canadian living in New York, to share with him my concerns. I don't know what I have to teach news reporters and radio documentarians, I say. These are serious people, professionals, journalists. I mean, I make radio dramas. It is at this point that David says he is going to stop me right there. I'm going to stop you right there. What? This in Chicago, I would simply advise you to use the American and or British pronunciation of the word, D-R-A-M-A. Drama. No.

Drama. Drama. Yeah. You will just throw them from the roller coaster if you say drama. You will lose them almost immediately. They will think he said drama. Well, I mean, they know that I'm Canadian, so, I mean, maybe they'll find... Yeah.

All the many charming Canadian pronunciations in the world. That's not one of them. Nor is pasta. They wouldn't find that a little exotic? Yes, but exotic in all its sort of icky, ethnocentric, 19th century anthropologist assumption kind of ways. Oh. Do you know what I mean?

They would think that you were kind of lesser, less intelligent than you actually are. Right. Can you say drama trippingly off your time? try it drama yeah it's it's i'm gonna forget i mean i'm not gonna be talking about what i would advise you to say is uh something wrong about like i don't know why i'm here at a reporting you know essentially a radio documentary festival because what i essentially do are little radio plays so just avoid yeah avoid the drama yeah avoid the word drama it's the way it's the way like when someone says um instead of horror they say hoor yeah

that's off-putting. Doesn't it make you think that, yeah, that they come from an inbred population who've been, you know, drinking the local bilge water and thereby trace metals and all that? And you think this is comparable? It sounds sort of small town.

And there's some charm there. Yeah. But with all those small town values. Right. Oh, God. Don't get me starting on small town values. Oh. Sorry.

But that's just my little bit of advice to you. On top of everything I'm nervous about, David has also made me worried that I'm going to show up seeming like a Liederhausen-clad Foreign Exchange student. Thursday. Still worried about the lecture, I wake up out of a dream in which the venue has been changed at the last minute, from Evanston, Illinois, to my parents' basement. Instead of a podium, my notes sit on a pile of old TV guides. The only people in attendance are my parents, and Howard Stern. He is dressed in an American flag top hat like Uncle Sam. As I nervously read through my notes, the room grows smaller and smaller,

until finally I am nose-to-nose with Stern. I see my reflection in his round-mirrored sunglasses, and it is not a pretty sight. Saturday. I've completed my lecture, and it went off with no major gaffs, and so I'm feeling pretty happy. Highlights include someone pointing out that I have shaving cream on my earlobe, and being told by a hunched bespectacled man that he used to have a sports jacket exactly like mine until his ex-wife made him throw it out. In such moments, I am reminded that the beauty of radio is that,

you cannot be seen. Back at my hotel room, I take a victory bath. It's something akin to a victory lap, except without clothes and all that running. I love taking baths, but hardly ever get to have a proper one because my tub at home is about the size of one of those buckets in which cowboy soak in old westerns. While my home tub does succeed in making me feel like a big man, in much the same way that drinking from a tiny espresso cup does, and I never have to worry about falling asleep and drowning. It would be as difficult as drowning in a shallow bowl of consummate. It does feel like a treat to have my legs and arms wet at the same time. I sink beneath the water, and for the next several seconds, I bask.

As I am checking out of the hotel, the clerk looks at my file and says, Canada, eh, the other white meat. I laugh, but my laughter is mostly out of gratitude for not having been charged for the $5 bottle of mini-bar water I accidentally opened the night before. I continue to laugh as I slowly inch backwards towards the door, towards Canada, towards friends, and towards family. Hello?

Hey Dad? Why are you calling me on the other line, Johnny? Oh, I'm sorry. Because I said I don't like to talk on this phone. Oh, how come? It gives me a headache, I think. How come it gives you a headache? I don't know.

There's something in maybe the airways, the electrical waves or something, the cell things. I doubt you can get a headache from a cell phone. Oh, I don't know. I'm starting to get one right now. Okay, I'll call you back. Yeah. Yeah, hi. Anyway, so how was your trip in Illinois? It was good.

It was nice, but it's also, you know, it also feels good to be back in Canada. I'm glad you're back, and your trip was safe? Yeah. Hey, how long has it been since you've been living in Canada? Since 73, so it's about 35 years? Wow. So it's almost half your life? Yes, almost half my life.

I mean, would you have ever imagined, you know, when you were, when you were, you know, growing up in Brooklyn that you would have ended up an older man in Canada? In reality, no. I never thought I'd end up in somewhere else in another country. And, you know, really a different culture, too, to a great many degrees. Did you find yourself making social faux pas as kind of like freshly minted Canadian? Oh, yeah, very much. Did you feel like when you first came, people sort of teased you for your accent? Yes. Yeah.

When I used to say coffee, a dog. And did you mind when people teased you? Sometimes it was annoying. Sometimes I took offense to it sometimes, yeah. Really? Like in what circumstances? Oh, if they would make fun of a word I pronounce in a very New Yorkie kind of way. You know, like?

I can't think of it. Oh, like sometimes I had the habit if I'd say. the country Cuba I would say Cuba Wow Your accent was much stronger back then Yeah much stronger Yeah I kind of

I don't know why But there was an R at the end of Cuba For some reason Even to this day You know Are you surprised Do you hear Do you hear an accent in yourself

Only if I hear a recording If I if you play back something to me I hear the accent Not now I don't hear it as I speak Even yeah And how would you pronounce My name

What do you call me Johnny How would a Canadian pronounce your name? Maybe it would be more like Johnny. Johnny? Maybe more like that, yeah. And how would you pronounce F-L-O-R-I-D-A? I guess Florida. Florida? Florida?

Two ways. If you weren't thinking about it. Florida. Or maybe Florida. So it's sort of like at this point, I mean, you've been here. Florida, Johnny. That's where I said in New York. Florida. And that's the way you'll always say it. I guess.

What, you say, you say that with such resignation. No, I mean, yeah, you know, I mean, I'm a new, you know, let's face it, what's the old thing about taking the boy out of the country, but can't take the country out of the boy? But what do you feel like? I mean, do you feel like a Canadian now? I feel like a Canadian, yeah. I feel, I feel both. a chair for both teams in the Olympic Games but I feel Canadian I feel a stronger I have a stronger feelings for Canada

but why do you now feel more Canadian than American well this country's been good to me I remember the first time the first the we came here at New Year's it was for me I found extremely extremely cold but something beautiful there was a little bit of snow on the ground it was just around Christmas

time and it was so quiet it was so quiet and peaceful the street yeah i was happy this country has often me a lot of opportunities even offered me the opportunity to learn french which i found hard going you know when you get older it's very difficult i would have enjoyed i would have liked it give me a little bit of your french what can i say uh comea sava so va bien Wow, and you made it all these years on that French. Yeah, terrible French. Well, that's kind of amazing.

So, va bien. And you're That's... That's... That's... ...sova bien. Tucker and I are sitting on my couch, passing a container of Hagen-Doss chocolate ice cream back and forth. In between delightful spoonfuls, I tell Tucker about my earlier conversation with my father.

This gets him thinking about some of the other differences between Canada and America, like the currency. Wouldn't it be great if the Canadian dollar and the Canadian calorie were somehow linked, he asks? How do you mean, I ask back. Like, when the American dollar is weak, Tucker said. American calories would also become weak. So when 100 Canadian calories are the same as 82 American calories, the time would be right to go over the border and rent a motel room and spend the weekend eating hamburgers and milkshakes.

And then the moment you cross back into Canada, you instantly get fatter, I ask? Yes, Tucker replies. But the beauty of it is that since we weigh ourselves in kilograms, we'd still be able to trick ourselves into believing we're fit. Whatever happened to those colonies on the moon we were promised, a place where we could all join together to eat ice cream all day long, while still being able to bounce around as light as smoke. It is this dream of endless, guilt-free ice cream, that I think makes us all, whether Canadian or American, ultimately the same. All dreamers, all potential victims of the unbearable fatness of being. Let's get together, let's get together, sing a happy song.

Sing a happy song. Canada forever. Canada forever. Going right along. Go and right along. Land of the free marching as one. On Wiretap today, you heard Starly Kine and Arthur Jones, David Rakoff and Buzz Goldstein. Wiretap is produced by Jonathan Goldstein, with Mirabirtwin-Twin-Wertwin-Wing.

and Crystal Duhame.