Way Out West

Although it's a civic holiday across Canada today, in BC we refer to it as "BC Day." British Columbians, even in Canada, are a unique breed. Some might see as "more American" --especially West Coast Americans, but I believe we've taken it even further --we're a special bunch, indeed!

With that in mind, I've 'borrowed' the following from the Vancouver Province...

You're Not a Real B.C.er unless...

You're not a real B.C.er unless you picked Terry Fox as the Greatest Canadian... but secretly, you wished it was Pamela Anderson... and you realize you don't know a single thing about David Suzuki.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've gone up the Grouse Grind and... come down with the help of North Shore Search and Rescue.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've been to the PNE and... eaten those little doughnuts and... returned them in an unorthodox manner from the top of the Coaster.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've been to White Spot and... you've lied about your age to remain eligible for a Pirate Pak.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've chanted "Leafs suck!"... alone in front of your TV.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've spent 10 minute battling a dogfish you thought was a Coho... and cut yourself trying to release it.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've switched allegiances from the Grizzlies to the Mavericks to the Suns.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've slammed the Vancouver Olympics organizers for picking the inukshuk as their logo and... don't have a clue what an inukshuk is.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you love going to the Vancouver Aquarium but... wonder about the plight of animals in captivity... and wish Vancouver had a world-class zoo.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've scoffed down a Sunshine Breakfast on the Queen of Esquimalt and... can only stomach it because you haven't eaten for 12 hours... because you failed to realize there'd be a four-sailing wait.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've been to B.C. Place stadium and bitched about the Lions playing indoors on a hot summer night... but wouldn't be caught dead going to an outdoor stadium in the rain.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've visited the Okanagan and taken a wine tour... but still think that Kokanee is for the sophisticated palate.

You're not a real B.C.er unless if you know how to spell Tsawassen (or is it Tsawwasen? Oh never mind). (for the record, it's Tsawwassen.)

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've gone to the Merritt Mountain Music Festival... and not actually seen one single musical act... and returned home with a cowboy hat and a concert t-shirt... but not a single pair of pants you took with you.

You're not a real B.C.er unless if you haven't been to a Vancouver Canucks game... and cursed the day the Clapper was born.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've visited Point Roberts, enjoyed a pint at The Breakers, filled up on cheap gas... and been strip-searched at Customs for bringing in too much cheap American cheese.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've laughed at people who believe in Ogopogo... but are too scared to swim in Lake Okanagan.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you are spending 90 per cent of your wages to live in a nice neighbourhood... and had your nice neighbour on one side busted for a grow op... and the cool neighbour on the other side busted for a meth lab.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've passed Ben Affleck on Robson Street... and thought it cool that he's making yet another movie here... and realized you can't remember one single thing he's done.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you have ordered a large pizza at 2 a.m. on a Saturday morning and... it does not contain at least two of the following toppings: barbecued chicken, pine nuts, shallots, duck l'orange or tofu.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've been to Nat Bailey Stadium on a warm summer evening... got into your car and realized you have no idea whether the C's just won or lost... can't recall the opponent and don't really care.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you have had a movie or TV show shoot in your neighbourhood... and you haven't cursed under your breath at the latte-holding wannabes standing on the street looking important and waving you away from your regular parking spot.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've been to a Chinatown night market and bought a Gucci purse for $5... and wondered, afterward, if Gucci is supposed to be spelled with four c's.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you realize what an institution Tony Parsons is.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you really are sick of the rain... but still won't let that whole David Duchovny thing go.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've waved a white towel and... actually understood why you did.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you're curious how much those AirCare guys make.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you can drink a venti strong blend on you mountain bike, crossing a bridge during morning ruch hour while also eating an organic millet muffin and checking your e-mail on your Blackberry.

You're not a real B.C.er unless you've innocently asked your dad, "Why is everyone booing the goalie?"