Canada and my moustache are young.
Canada is only 150 years old. My moustache is only five days old.
Canada and my moustache were born out of necessity.
Canada was created as a means of establishing an east-west alliance between the British colonies that could withstand the relentless territorial ambitions of the United States. My moustache was created as a means of establishing a character in an upcoming production of Guys and Dolls with the mostly modest entertainment ambitions of community theatre.
Canada is a little bit French.
My moustache is a little bit French.
Canada is a great producer of cheese.
My moustache is cheesy.
Canada and my moustache have displayed great valour.
Canadians performed with courage at the Battle of Vimy Ridge (1917). My moustache performed with courage at the Battle of the Not-Very-Sharp Razor (2017).
Canada has its roots in European colonialism.
My moustache has its roots in my upper lip.
Like Canada, as moustaches go, mine is pretty okay.
There are a lot of moustaches out there, and some are elaborate affairs with a long history of lubricants and totalitarianism. My moustache, like Canada, is fairly unassuming. It doesn’t claim to be the best moustache, though when you get right down to it, there are certainly worse ones. It’s not like it’s a Hitler moustache, for God’s sake! My moustache is okay. Maybe more than okay. Go ahead and call it the greatest moustache on the planet if you like, but in my heart, I know it’s just pretty good.
Canada and my moustache secretly crave attention.
Forget everything I said. Canada and my moustache really want the rest of the world (and my friends and coworkers) to say how cool and awesome and likeable and sexy they are.
Canada and my moustache are actually pretty needy.
I mean, why couldn’t you call this the best moustache going? Look at it! It’s way less pervy than I thought it would be. That’s quite an accomplishment, as far as moustaches go. Just because I don’t make a big deal about it doesn’t mean it’s not majestic. Call it understated panache. It’s simply that those big American moustaches get all the attention. Stupid vintage Tom Selleck!
When you come right down to it, Canada and my moustache are slightly embarrassing.
It’s almost as if Canada and my moustache are asking to be made fun of.
People think about Canada and my moustache a lot less than Canada and my moustache think they do.
No one really cares that much about Canada and my moustache besides Canadians and me. It’s nothing but a lot of navel-gazing, or, in this case, moustache-gazing. Either way you go cross-eyed.
Windsor, Ontario is across the river from Detroit, Michigan.
The character my moustache and I play in Guys and Dolls is Detroit, Nathan.
Canada promotes itself around the world as a tourist destination.
My moustache promotes its role on stage this July at the Haskell Opera House, also a tourist destination.
Canada is a humble country.
My moustache, not so much.
Prime Ministers of Canada who have had a moustache:
Zero. Sir Mackenzie Bowell (1894-1896) had a full beard and moustache but his name was also “Bowell” so let’s just pretend that never happened.
Canada and my moustache have a reputation for tolerance
Canada prides itself on welcoming people from around the world. In fact, this longstanding embrace of multiculturalism has effectively allowed Canada to resist the allure of nationalism that has proven so divisive in other countries. By comparison, my moustache has not made a single off-colour joke since it established itself on my face five days ago, though it is on the condescending side (the front).
Canada owes an apology to its First Nations peoples.
I owe an apology to all the people who have to look at me for the next month.
To celebrate Canada’s 150th, admission is free to all national parks.
But visiting my moustache will cost you 5 bucks.