Canada Provides a National Service

I've always admired Canada. Even though their socialist policies scare me, they are a friendly people. Their country is large, green, and wide open (relative to the U.S., of course). I've always wanted to visit there, but there's still so much of my own country that needs checking out first.

Of course, my desire to visit may become tempered somewhat with news that certain celebrities may move there if Bush is re-elected.

Others - those with money - are also looking into such countries as Ireland or (hah!) France.

While I'm sure this will not sit well with certain of their fans, many of the rest of us will gladly hold the door for them whilst they make their exit. Sayonara, dudes. Enjoy your new freedoms.

There's nothing new about Hollywood types running away from their country of birth to make a statement. Heck, even Sean Connery left Scotland because he didn't like England's oppressive rule. Or something like that. Fact is, I've never really cared.

More to the point, I've never been able to respect someone who would cut and run, rather than stay and be a participant. But, you say, they have participated, and the rest of the country just won't cooperate! This is true. I, personally, think it's absolutely ludicrous to spend more money and legislation protecting dogs and cats than we do protecting unborn children. If that makes me insensitive, then thank goodness for numbness.

When I was growing up, I deeply feared being sent to war. We had one, then, and it was nasty. It hit home when one young man that Dad was giving french horn lessons to tried to get into one of the military bands so he wouldn't see combat. Dad knew, in his heart, that the kid wasn't quite good enough to make it into the band, and tried to dissuade him. Sure enough, the kid was assigned to a combat unit and was killed in Vietnam. Broke Dad's heart. That was the only time in my life when I even considered running to Canada after graduation.

As graduation loomed larger, however, I began to see the futility of running away. What would it accomplish? Sure, I'd be alive, but I have an incredibly guilty conscience, and I knew, deep down, that I would hate myself for a lot of years to come. As it turned out, both the war and the draft were history the very year I graduated, so I'll never really know.

And so, to the celebrities I say, "Fare thee well." Perhaps you'll find a fruitful field in your new homeland. Maybe you'll find people who will by god listen to you for a change. Maybe you'll find someone who'll care about your expatriation.

I don't. Maybe if Hollywood loses enough of you, they'll start putting out family-quality material again.

Aw, who am I kidding?

UPDATE: Gerard at American Digest suggests a helpful packing list for KOS' pending relocation to the Great North.