During an extended ‘sabbatical’ in Europe folks were always trying to figure out from whence i came. spoke English, but with no accent (like none. dull as dishwater!) also didn’t wear Bermuda shorts or a hat, spoke softly, so: wasn’t an American… “ah! must be Canadian” In the final analysis it amounted to: “So ok he is a yank. but he’s from a funny/marginal part of the states (Seattle) so he’s essentially a Canadian”. i accepted this; but still don’t like poutine.
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