ELBOWS UP
Mike Myers' Secret Message to Canadians
Folks across North America tuned in to watch SNL on Saturday. When Mike Myers came out with his Canada Is Not For Sale t-shirt, it probably jogged the memory of a lot of American viewers that Mike, like so many of the great "American" comedians, is actually from Canada.
Canadians who watched that moment saw something much more profound than a t-shirt. Mike was issuing marching orders. Right there on U.S. television, he mouthed a secret code, and Canadians from coast to coast to coast knew exactly what he meant.
The Secret Language of Canadians
Before I go any deeper into deciphering the code, let me explain how messages get passed on in Canada.
With a population one-tenth that of the United States, we have always been written off as less ambitious or brash than our southern neighbours. While they boast and flag wave, we Canadians just like to get on with things.
It is also the story of our nation that many of our greatest head south: Oscar Peterson, Kiefer Sutherland, Michael J. Fox, Leslie Nielsen, Jim Carey, Dan Ackroyd, Rick Moranis, William Shatner, and Catherine O’Hara. When we watch their shows, we are constantly parsing lines for hidden references to our home and reality.
Like Neil Young's Helpless.
When my widowed immigrant grandmother heard the song on the radio, she said, "He is singing about our town" – Timmins. I tried to argue that there were a hundred Northern Ontario towns Neil could have meant, but she was having none of it.
She knew.
He was singing about us.
And so, when we pick up home references from SNL or Second City or The Simpsons, it comes at us like a secret message just for our ears.
The Codes That Bind Us
Canada's most beloved band, The Tragically Hip, never made it in the United States, maybe because their code was less subtle.
“If there's a goal that everyone remembers,
it was back in ol' 72.
We all squeezed the stick, and we all pulled the trigger
and all I remember is sitting beside you.’
Every time I hear this song, I am transported back to Mr. Libourin’s Grade 4 classroom. It was the first time we were ever allowed to watch TV during class. Sitting at our desks, we watched the iconic moment when Paul Henderson scored the winning goal against the Soviet Union in the most intense hockey showdown in our nation's history.
As Canadians, we rarely think about the secret codes that bind us. It's just there. Like the land.
When I first hit the road with the band at 18, I was overwhelmed by the immensity and beauty of our country. On this vast geography, our cities and towns are strung out like isolated outposts. Getting from one town to another often requires 12 hours of straight driving.
Little wonder that by the time we hit these towns – Thunder Bay, Winnipeg, Saskatoon, Edmonton- there was a sense of relief as if we were coming home. And even if it was the first time in that town or province, we were always welcomed like we belonged.
Those road trips changed who I am. And I am not the only one.
I don't know a single "big city" artist who wasn't transformed by witnessing the Aurora Borealis over Lake Superior, or the incredible beauty of the North Saskatchewan or felt the exhilaration - and sometimes panic - of the nose-bleed drive through Kicking Horse Pass and then down through the long chute of the Fraser Canyon.
The first time this city boy saw Peggy's Cove, I was almost scared out of my skin by the power of the North Atlantic. These things stay. It's not like you talk about it; you simply absorb it. It becomes part of you. It makes you Canadian.
As if we would ever give up a land this profound and mystical to a convicted felon and pervert decked out in tacky bronze makeup.
But I digress.
Back to the code.
The fact is that most of us don't even realize that we are knit together by the odd expressions and references that make no sense to people from other lands.
But these are the things that make us kin.
For example, it's only since I began doing interviews with American and European media that I realized many of my political metaphors come from hockey. Few of those references make sense unless you can visualize what they mean – dropping the gloves, going into the corners, going over the boards.
If you say these things in Canada, everybody will just nod. Canadians just get it.
Which is why Mike Myers's appearance on SNL was so significant.
He didn't only wear the t-shirt; he mouthed instructions to his kin back home:
"Elbows Up."
What Elbows Up Really Means
I have seen this phrase a lot lately, mostly in the comments section about taking on Trump. It's a reference to Gordie Howe, the big lad from Floral, Saskatchewan – one of the greatest players ever to play the game. Gordie led the famous "Production line" of the Detroit Red Wings. This was not a team to be messed with.
The expression was personified in the style of play that gave Gordie the moniker "Mr. Elbows." The way he explained it, when someone dared mess with one of his teammates, he "put the elbows up."
When Gordie put the elbows up, guys lost teeth or ended up with black eyes.
On SNL, with the world watching, Canadians everywhere were sent a message from a venerable Canadian comic:
Now is not the time to be restrained.
Now is not the time to hope for the best.
Now is the time for elbows up.
A big surprise is coming for guys like Pete Navarro, J. D. Vance, and the Trump trolls who think they can bully, threaten and push us around.
Mike, we got the message. It’s already moving down the line.
Canada loves you.
Since you mentioned Mr. Elbows, I would love to share a story about the great Gordie Howe that is lore in our family.
My dad was an RCAF officer, and he was sent to do his Masters degree in Engineering at Purdue University in Lafayette, Indiana. When my dad was finishing up his thesis, my mom travelled back early to family in Manitoba. She connected through the massive Chicago O'Hare airport with my older brother, a very energetic toddler, and me, 9 months old and wearing a corrective harness for hip dysplasia. Any parent would know what a daunting challenge this would be.
As my mother waited for the flight to Winnipeg, my brother decided to have a toddler meltdown. My mom didn't see me crawl a few steps away until she realized that I was using my bottle to hit the leg of a man. She said she was transfixed by the man's hands, so very large, as he reached down and grabbed me by my hip harness and brought me into his lap. The she realized who it was. Gordie Howe.
Gordie Howe carried me onto he plane. Gordie Howe helped my mom with my brother and all our luggage. Gordie Howe helped us all when we touched down in Winnipeg until we were with my grandparents.
Gordie Howe, elbows up on the ice, was a kind and generous man in real life. To me, he embodies what it is to be Canadian: tough in the right places and for the right reasons, but otherwise, kind and generous and caring.
Thank you Charlie. I am American and live in Virginia. My boys both played hockey (my youngest is now a youth coach) and we spent many weekends in Canada for tournaments and Silver Sticks. Those are our fondest memories. Everyone was so gracious and kind, and indulgent towards the exuberance of children. Once while at Silver Sticks there was a significant snowfall. Hotel staff brought their sleds and toboggans from home so that our kids could sled on the new snow. How incredibly kind. I want you to know, and I hope you do, that most Americans stand with you. I don't know where this regime is driving us, but I don't intend to make it easy for them.