Friday, February 23, 2018

Why I'm not Canadian

The news moment of celebrities threatening to move to Canada when elections don't go their way has long since come and gone. But we non-famous citizens think about it sometimes too.

 Politics here have been ugly for a long time, but Trump  made it worse. His very existence makes life psychologically challenging for those of us who are liberals in red states. It took months to accept that most of the people I go to church with, people I have known and loved my whole life, voted for someone that horrible. (Actually, I haven't accepted this so much as chosen to live in denial.)

Then there is health care.

 Insurance companies and drug companies are impossible to plan around. A very expensive biologic that I received for free most of last year is now costing $150 a month and may soon cost up to $2000 a month unless I am able to do a paperwork and phone call equivalent of  triple backflips through the right flaming hoops.

 Every time I have to switch drugs, my doctor gives me a couple choices so I can see which one my insurance company prefers. What the doctor or I might prefer is far less important. So, national health care, socialized medicine, I'm all over that.

So sometimes I will tell my husband, or my children that we are moving to Canada, or Sweden, or Norway, but I don't make big announcements because it's never going to happen.

 Here's why:

1. They don't want me.

You know how folks complain about people moving into the U.S. just to go on welfare? I'd be one of those people in another country.

Sure, Canada takes in a fair number of refugees, but I hardly qualify.

What they (and Mexico) want as far as immigrants go is what every country wants--people in high-skill, high-demand professions.

I have yet to find a place that is in desperate need of people to explain poetry while sitting in a comfortable chair. If you know of such a place (preferably tropical) please share.

2. Snow

Utah may advertise "the greatest snow on earth," but we've only had about four snowstorms this winter and I'm fine with that. We need more snow in the mountains, but I really like being able to walk on sidewalks in the park almost year-round. I live on a narrow, "country" road (i.e. no curbs and gutter, no sidewalks), which only counts as two lanes because they painted a yellow line down the middle. It is scenic, but not safe to walk on. It snowed about two feet Sunday and Monday, so I didn't leave the house until Wednesday.

Socks are also an issue. I really don't like them. My feet may be claustrophobic. I spend most of my time barefoot and when I must wear shoes I have bare feet in moccasins. Canadian knitters seem obsessed with socks and I get it. It's snowing right now and I'm wearing socks. I'd have to do it all the time if I moved somewhere actually cold.

3. Dark

I suffer from raging seasonal affective disorder, at a very temperate latitude, in a dry climate with 300+ days of sunshine a year. Just thinking of the mid-day winter photos my sister sent when they lived in Sweden for two years makes me want to cry.

4. This is my country

I am both the daughter of an immigrant and a daughter of the Mayflower and the Revolution. When Trump was elected, I hung an American flag on my front door. It is my battle flag. This is my country and I am determined to work towards making us live up to our ideals.

(Bald eagles are jerks and America the Beautiful would be a much better and more singable anthem than the Star Spangled Banner, but let's accomplish liberty and justice for all first.)

Still stuck and behind on the knitting, but I have another podcast--mermaids and maybe attempted metaphorical rape. Tell me what you think

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