One of the benefits of old age is the ability to turn off your internal censor. In yet another attempt at getting myself fired (and if this doesn’t do it, nothing will), I will relate to you a conversation between my elderly father and the nurse who was preparing him for hernia surgery. She told him that after the surgery he would have to refrain from lifting anything heavy. Without batting an eye, my dad said, “So how am I supposed to take a piss?”

If you have a sweet tooth as big as mine, you have not only heard of, but you have probably also consumed, a wonderful product called Nutella. For those of you unfamiliar with this semi liquid heaven, it is an Italian spread meant for toast or bread but most often eaten straight from the jar. It’s like peanut butter, but made with chocolate and hazelnuts. And did I mention it is beyond insanely delicious?

Just recently Nutella made the news as some health advocates in Italy wanted the nutritional information posted in giant red type on the front of the jar warning you of this product’s possible obesity hazard. Let’s not kid ourselves, like most of the best things in life, this product is a heart attack waiting to happen. One taste of Nutella and you wont need a degree in nutritional science to know that this product is composed pretty much entirely of fat, sugar, and flavouring. But that wont stop me from melting it over ice cream.

Sorry to do this to you, but as a guy gets older, the following phrase comes out more often: “When I was kid…”. Well, when I was a kid we didn’t have Nutella. We had Koogle. Yes, I am not on crack (for a change). Kraft made a spread called Koogle that was pretty much Nutella but it featured wild flavourings like cinnamon and banana and vanilla. If you don’t believe me, you can Wiki it. As a child, I lived on peanut butter 6 days a week but just for a treat, mom would buy a jar of Koogle and make that sucker stretch for months. It was crazy good and for some reason Kraft stopped making it in the late 1970’s. Now, years later, I get to relive that wonderful taste, only the jar now says, Nutella!

I love my country and I love hockey. I can’t help it; I’m Canadian. What can be said about Canada that hasn’t already been used as a punchline?

Well, I finally watched, in its entirety, the 4 hour movie made in 2006 about the Canada-Russia 1972 Hockey Summit Series. As a boy growing up in Canada there were very few events that gave me the kind of pride I felt from watching (but not understanding) Canada beatin’ them Russians at our homegrown sport. As I got older, I vaguely remember overhearing adult conversations about the tactics we had used to win and other disparaging remarks tarnishing our wonderfully modest Canadian demenour. I insulated myself from that reality for a very long time. Then I saw this movie.

It’s one thing to crush the spirit of a seven year old boy, and quite another to crush a ‘forty something’ grown man, but this blow hurt me just the same. With all the sugar coating removed, during that entire hockey match, we Canadians acted selfish, stupid and unbelievably egotistical. Why? Because we knew deep down in our souls that we really don’t have anything to brag about except for hockey; and unfortunately in the grand scheme of things, that ain’t much. I know a lot has changed and we have far more to be proud of now, but back then, hockey was a way of life.

That’s what people in other countries don’t understand about our pride in hockey. We played it here for 8 months of the year and got incredibly good at it because that’s all there was to do when I was a kid growing up. It was too damn cold to do anything else!

There was a movie made right here in a small town in 1973 that completely explains our “National Pastime”. It was called “Paperback Hero” and starred Keir Dullea and Elizabeth Ashley. See if you can find it, watch it, and my promise to you is that you will be entertained and educated. Then I’ll apologize to you. It’s what I do because, after all, I am Canadian.

Almost at 500 posts… go Rodeo go!