Confederate Canuck Presents:

Today, we salute you, Mr. Lumberjack Shirt-Wearing Everyman.

Towel. Blanket. Tissue. Impenetrable shield of protection. It's not just a simple workshirt; it's your weapon against anything the world might throw your way.

Your manly sense of style sets you apart from the rest of us. Dirty red plaid flannel shirt, Kodiak boots, and a touque complete your all-weather ensemble. Rain, snow, 30°C sunshine -- environment means nothing to you. You wear this shirt at all times, day and night. If ever a rogue blizzard were to strike without warning in the middle of June, we know we can count on you to be ready.

To you, the term "fashion faux pas" is meaningless. You've transcended fashion, creating the perfect outfit that allows you to instantaneously blend into any place or situation: shopping, fine dining, church, even... working. Your B.C. Dinner Jacket does it all.

But that's not all. Not only does it match every pair of pants in your closet, it also advertises your masculinity at the same time. It lends you the unmistakeably masculine air of one who stands ready, able at a moments notice to work your working-class skills and save the day. Wherever there is a plugged toilet, we know who to call. Whenever a leaky carburetor needs fixing, you are there. We can always rely on you to know how to plow a field, build a shed, or shoot a moose and then skin it with your bare hands.

Your lumberjack shirt isn't just your average shirt, Everyman. It's a shining red beacon of hope, and a symbol of mechanical knowhow, common sense, and raw masculinity. That's why without you, Mr. Lumberjack Shirt-Wearing Everyman, the Land of the Maple Leaf just wouldn't be the same.

So crack open an ice cold Beaver Buzz, O Purveyor of the Plaid, because you know -- You're not a real man, unless you're dressed like one.

Confederate Canuck Presents:

Today, we salute you, Mr. Founder of the Canadian Medicare System.

You were the first to throw out basic principles of economics in pursuit of socialist medicine. Even simple common sense said your model wouldn't work, but you didn't let that slow you down in the slightest.

Faced with a small percentage of people who were without medical care, you devised a revolutionary system to combat the problem. By placing the responsibility of health care squarely on the government's shoulders, you created a system by which everyone -- regardless of income, age, race, or status -- would equally receive the same poor health care.

They told you that a single-payer health system would inherently tend to foster outdated medical technology. You courageously laughed in their faces. Old is better than nothing, you reasoned.

And when people complained that the wait times to see specialists were ridiculously long, you knew just where to point the finger of blame. Those greedy doctors that were moving to the States by the busload in search of better compensation for their services, as principles of the free market dictate. They should've stayed and stuck it out for the sake of the Canadian people. Besides, you said, when you're getting your health care as a government-bestowed gift, you can afford to wait. What's an hour or twelve in the ER waiting room, when the service is freely available to anyone?

That's why without you, Mr. Founder of the Canadian Medicare System, the Land of the Maple Leaf just wouldn't be the same.

So crack open an ice cold Canada Dry, O Wizard of the Waiting List. Because you know -- Paying an arm and a leg to the government for mediocre health care beats paying an arm and a leg to a private company for excellent health care, any day of the week.

Confederate Canuck Presents:

Today, we salute you, Mr. Ketchup Cake Inventor Guy.

From the kitchens of France came Crème Brûlée. The chefs of Italy gifted the world with Pasta. The Mexicans earned their place in history with the invention of the Enchilada. The Pennsylvania Dutch, Apple Pie.

But you dared to add Canada's name to the global roster of culinary genius with. . . a tomato sauce-based dessert.

While those around you were still enamored with the idea of eating ketchup for breakfast, you dared to dream for more. Embarrassed with the fact that Canada's only contributions to cuisine are poutine and some weird kind of bacon, you were the first to bravely take one of those 57 spicy varieties into the uncharted territory of the sweetmeat, and return with a confectionery delight destined to impress thousands of NASCAR fans worldwide.

Not only did you raise the bar for dessert makers around the globe, you also earned Canada an honored place among the world's culinary giants.

Without you, Mr. Ketchup Cake Inventor Guy, the Land of the Maple Leaf just wouldn't be the same.

So crack open a ice cold Pic-A-Pop, O Conquistador of the Condiment. Because you know -- once you muscle your way past the gag reflex, all kinds of possibilities open up.