I came in from freezing my arse off outside at the beginning of winter quite a while back now and wrote out my frustration. Y’know, the way writers handle all life’s little hurdles. I was full on freelancing at the time and fired this nonsense off to an awesome little testosterone-soaked Canadian online periodical likely no one outside Canada has ever heard of called Bacon / Fry My Bacon Magazine. My rant ended up on the front page for that month, which was pretty amusing.
Of late, I was sad to discover that this fabulous corner of the universe is no longer in publication, so with winter setting in, thought to repost this article for everyone’s amusement.
To Toque or Not to Toque
(original publication date: November 9th, 2006 on Bacon Magazine)
Yeah, it’s November and you’re still in denial, but let’s face it. You’re freezing and don’t want to admit it, right?
Yeah, I know how it goes. Halloween comes and it’s all good and then you’re standing there at the end of the night at the bottom of the last driveway watching your kids drag pillow cases full of junk food heaven the likes of which can only be properly appreciated by you the next night during the Leaf game, and right about then it hits you.
You’re freezing your nuts off.
Okay, so I live in Toronto where, arguably, you can sometimes get through the entire winter without having to even change out of your Nikes, because it’s possible to go from the underground parking garage of your condo straight through the drive-thru ATM and Tim Horton’s to the underground parking of your office, but still. In Canada? It’s the yearly dilemma.
The traditional Canadian toque is just not cool and that’s the whole thing right there. It’ll mess with that mullet you just can’t bring yourself to part with, because you’re stuck in the eighties and it’s still cool, right? Or maybe you managed to claw your way into the new millennium and now you’ve got yourself one of those baby mohawk jobs that’ll flatten out faster than the tires on the mid-sized ‘family’ van you traded in your Gremlin for through the left-overs of the summer road construction season.
No matter many of us have been domesticated, we can’t help the unexplainable panic that messing with your melon causes. I know it. You know it. It’s just a thing. Forget trying to explain it to your girl. It’ll just turn into one of those conversations full of questions there are no right answers for and you’ll be sleeping on the couch. Sssh! Don’t tell her it’s easier to watch Spike-tv from there. You’ll ruin it for the rest of us.
It doesn’t matter anyway, because we all know what happens. The snow will fall, everything ices over, and then you get that first call from your buddies for a shinny game one Saturday afternoon and the gloves and toques go on. Right? It’s all over after that. But how to deal with that four-month perma-mess on your noodle? Shave it, man.
Hey, it works for Messier, right?
So suck it up–it’s winter. Hit the barber, jam your Leaf toque over your exposed ears on the way to the rink and say it loud and proud–I’m Canadian, eh?
Link archive – Fry My Bacon Online Magazine – To Toque or Not to Toque