Well, here’s . . .
Coming soon to a bus stop near you.
A short (boo hiss) break from my comics and such. For absolutely no reason, here is a short primer on OUR currency. Thankfully I am so rich, I never have to TOUCH the stuff. Ever notice that? The richer one is, the less contact they actually have with ACTUAL money. I always let my butler carry a satchel or whatever it is the proles carry their filthy lucre in. I buy sight unseen and it goes directly in my storage locker unseen. It’s like it never happened! (Sorry, rich joke there, how we laugh)
We know you’re interested in our quaint money, rest of the world! Don’t pretend otherwise. Canadian money. We have it. We stopped using fish hooks and pelts at least twenty years or more ago. As weak and sickly as it is compared to the mighty US dollar (and many other currencies), I have a soft spot for it. It is so cute compared to, say, heavy English money that drags your trousers down. I will expound on our currency here. Why? Because I like telling people stuff about this country I am so proud of! Who’s a good country? Why, you are, Canada!
We have recently abolished the penny because of all the train derailments, and the denominations are as follows:
nickel (5 cents)
dime (10 cents)
quarter (25 cents)
loonie (one dollar) – so named because of the depiction of the loon on the coin.
toonie (2 dollars) – so named because it is TWO loonies, or a TOONIE. Get it? For awhile, people called it a ‘Doubloonie’, but it never caught on. Occasionally, I have seen the gold centre part pop out. Then you have yourself a rarest of coins, absolutely worthless but cute as all-get-out.
Our bills come in fives, tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds, and even higher denominations which have seldom seen in my wallet, and are usually found in the pockets of money launderers at casinos. For shits and giggles, here is an old TWO dollar bill I have, which are no longer circulated. It still blows my mind that we actually used these bills! Dig the colour? Kind of a Pepto-Bismal pink.
It all looks like play money, but this is all legal tender. Our latest bills are fiendishly difficult to counterfeit, but does not stop criminals from trying. Here is an example of a legit bill. Note the fine line work, watermarks, transparency. It’s like an early Rembrandt!
The feel of the bill is unique, very smooth, like mylar. Not quite sexy, but getting there. A colour photocopier will no longer do the trick. The good old days, when you could go to Kinko’s and run off some hundreds. HAHA kidding, authorities who may have detected the word ‘counterfeit’ and ‘currency in some algorithm and are now sending the RCMP to my residence. I never did it, though I thought about it, I decided that working legitimately for it was actually LESS work than the tedium and gruelling nature of setting up a counterfeit ring.
All our money has a likeness of our monarch, Queen Elizabeth II.
Why? No, she is not our ultimate boss nor can she (any longer) order beheadings. Ok, before Canada was a country, Great Britain was ruled by kings and queens, just like in fairy tales. Early settlers to this country came here in part because they didn’t LIKE their king or queen. (And a lot still don’t to this day) And they wanted fresh water that did not have human turds floating in it.
Still with me? British, French, Dutch, and Spanish colonies were settled, on land that had been home to First Nations (formerly referred to as Native Indians or, less derogatively, as indigenous peoples) people for thousands of years. Wars were fought, treaties signed until Britain controlled almost all the colonies. Some of the colonies turned around and fought to be free of Britain, as well. They won their freedom and joined together into a fledgling little country known as the USA. Colonies to the north of them remained British and continued to be ruled by British kings and queens.
There. That, in a nutshell, is why the queen is on all of our money. When she passes on, her son Charles
is the ‘heir apparent’ and will wear the king’s hat. After him, HIS son William is the next in line for the non-porcelain throne. You know him from such sitcoms as the 6 o’clock news, and every magazine cover, except Inked, that tattoo magazine.
Well, I hope you found this edifying or, perhaps, a cause for mirth. You guys are so lame! Who has a queen? Is it true that she has her own toilet that she brings with her everywhere? We Canadians (or Canucks) are proud of our country but not to the extent of Americans, who wear their patriotism on their sleeve more than we do.
Thanks for checking this post out. The cartoons will resume shortly. I have quite a backlog of material and . . . hey why is everyone running away screaming?
This scenario did not exactly play out, but it might have. My mother has an annoying habit of doing just that – pilfering sugar packets and napkins. Plastic knives and forks, and on one memorable occasion, a lot of free T-shirts hastily given out on the occasion of Prince William’s visit here a few years back. You were allowed one; she lined up multiple times and got about four.
I had just had coffee with her and was waiting by the exit, as she visited the loo etc. Another lady was standing at the exit as well, waiting for a friend. Perhaps inspired by irritation, I remarked, to her, that that was my mother at the condiment station, shoving napkins into her bag. A glorious sight, to be sure.
The lady then said something that made me burst out laughing. She suggested that maybe she could pretend to be the ‘Starbucks police’ and ‘accost’ my mother at the door. Fortunately, I did not give her the nod, and we shared a laugh at such a scene playing out. I did tell my mother of this little incident and she thought it was the height of hilarity. She may be many things but she doesn’t lack a sense of humour.
I can’t say I am entirely guiltless – our kitchen drawer is jam-packed with (cough) souvenirs. At least (trying to justify my actions) I make an effort to be surreptitious about it. My mother makes zero effort at concealment of her actions, to the point that I think she is daring someone to say something.
Thanks for visiting!
I usually enter the New Yorker caption contest – the one where a captionless cartoon is presented, and readers must come up with a clever/funny caption for it. It is voted on, by readers and staff, and a winner is chosen. They receive thousands of submissions. Thousands, which must be sifted through, and collated as: FUNNY/SOMEWHAT FUNNY/NOT FUNNY. I think I know which category they receive the most of.
I enjoy the exercise of brainstorming, and coming up with captions that match the scenario presented in the cartoon. It taxes the creative side of my brain nicely, if nothing else. I then submit it and check in two weeks to see if my caption won. This would then fulfill a lifelong dream of having a cartoon of mine (sort of) appearing in The New Yorker.
Imagine my surprise when I saw that my caption was selected (and ultimately won) one week! The scenario: The great Sphinx is inside a typical office, before a man at a desk who is saying something, typical job interview cliche. My caption: WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN 20,000 YEARS. I won! Yup. However, someone had submitted the exact same caption. Even that exact number. I had read what I thought was my caption, and in my excitement, did not notice that it was submitted by a lady in California. The injustice of it issued a low pressure system that remained in my brain pan for a few days. Prevailing breezes of sense made me gradually come to the realization that they had obviously come across that person’s submission first, thus negating any similar or exact copies.
I’ll still submit now and then – I’m not THAT jaded. I love the gag cartoon format too much for that. Ever since I was a kid I’d zoom to the Saturday colour comics, my highlight of the week. That might explain a lot, given my lack of smarts in world affairs.