BRING US YOUR WEARY, YOUR “TRUMPED”
Never have so few barking, maniacal Americans done so much for so many polite, immigrant-loving Canadians.
Thank you Donald Trump. We ought to give you a medal. You too, Boris Johnson of Brexit fame. Together, you have managed to raise this country’s reputation in the world as the last, best hope for social sanity.
Indeed, gentlemen, a recent poll by Ipsos Group found that a whopping percentage of troubled Yanks would move to the Great White North should the improbably coiffed reality-show impresario, real-estate tycoon and sometime billionaire actually ascend to the presidency of the United States later this year. According to Global News, for whom the survey was conducted, “The number was especially high among young respondents: 28 per cent, age 18-34 said they would consider the move.”
Don’t worry, dear Boris, you, too, are doing your part to enhance Canada’s primo site-selection opportunities. Says another Global News report: “After the U.K. voted 52 per cent in favour of bouncing from the European Union, many internet users began to search on Google ‘How to move to Canada.’ Google Trends (indicated) the term was searched most frequently in Wales, followed by England and Scotland. (Other) popular search terms (were): ‘How to move to Canada from U.K.,’ ‘move to Canada from U.K.,’ and ‘Can I move to Canada?’”
Well, of course you can, darlings. The more the merrier. In fact, I notice you’re already taking the requisite steps. Tourism industry associations in the Atlantic provinces this past summer provided compelling evidence that 2016 was the best season for foreign visitors in many a year. Tellingly, the biggest bump came courtesy of Americans and Western Europeans ostensibly looking for a beach or two on which to lay down their weary heads — the bitter rhetoric of isolationism, intolerance and outright racism still ringing in their ears.
Still, while industry might call them tourists, I’m more inclined to call them scouting parties. Strolling down Moncton’s Main Street on a hot, windy morning the other week, I chanced upon a man and woman with their two teenagers in tow. They appeared flustered. I did what any resident of a small Canadian city might do: I apologized for disturbing them and asked if I could help.
“Listen, mate,” the fellow responded in a distinctly North London accent, “is there any place good to eat around here?”
I proceeded to point out some of my regular haunts, but something in his demeanour suggested he had a rather more pressing question on his mind. He came close and, almost under his breath, asked: “What are house prices like around here?”
I smiled and invited him and his family to follow me up the street to where I own a vacant, downtown duplex. I showed him and his assembled brood around, discussed the annual utility rates and told him the monthly rent. “Bloody hell. . .that cheap?” was all he said.
Donald Trump wants to build a wall along the U.S. Mexican border to keep, as he has infamously declared, the rapists out. Where he gets his information is anyone’s guess. (I’d guess it derives from the classified advertising section at the back of any issue of any magazine devoted to some Americans’ pathological affection for semi-automatic rifles.) But keep it up Mr. Trumpinator.
Boris Johnson likes to refer to Democratic candidate for the U.S. presidency, Hillary Clinton, as a “sadistic nurse in a mental hospital” before offering this afterthought: “I’m afraid there is such a rich thesaurus of things I’ve said that have been, one way or another, through what alchemy I do not know, somehow misconstrued.” Again, Mr. Boorish, keep it up.
The more these gentlemen bloviate, the better Canada looks and the finer this nation’s immigration prospects appear. Certainly, here in the Atlantic region, we could use every bump in the population of sane, educated, tolerant, skilled, determined workers, entrepreneurs and professionals we can secure.
Messrs. Trump and Johnson, of course, need not apply.
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