THIS IS THE TIME "WHERE" I WANT TO SING

the anniversary of vancouver's incorporation is not, in fact, the 5th of april as i erroneously wrote in my reflections on my stroll through douglas coupland's city of glass. the correct date is the 6th which, although it was not the day on which i looked through the book, was the day of the actual writing. that's light irony at best -- and heavily overshadowed by my incorrect and now completely nonsensical anecdote on the suicide of kurt cobain. so we were all duped by the globe and mail, which, four days after april fool's, ran a nostalgic column by a former resident in celebration of the city's birthday, but did so the evening before the day itself and without any mention of the proper date. it would seem that non-canadians just aren't supposed to know about canadian history. writing that, however, reminds me that canadians don't seem to be supposed to know about canadian history either. aside from some scattered plaques, the city of vancouver (outside of chinatown, that is) doesn't seem to care about its past. just ask around. according to coupland, however, vancouver's municipal esprit de corps is fostered by a collective desire for renewal and future opportunity. also known as "the terminal city," vancouver represents to itself the furthest thing from "old" canada. or it could really just be the pot smoke, which rises regularly the start of the morning commute and which vancouverites incorrectly call smog, having only experienced that phenomenon visually through television. either way, to hell with the past. vancouverites don't live there.

so i wouldn't be wrong to dismiss my error as ultimately inconsequential. (no one in vancouver seemed to care.) even more, i should probably celebrate myself for having come a step closer to understanding the diversity of the majesties of canada. if only. unfortunately, as i was stewing over the foibles of my amateurish research and my frustration with the globe and mail, ligia oancea herself was serenading a crowd of lightly ironic vancouverites at the biltmore cabaret. in celebration of the birthday of her adopted home, ligia performed her now northwest-famous ode to vancouver as part of a local talent contest. ("Ligia's soul is uncapturable. It would take a spirit bear trapper (in a fur coat) to track and trap that.") i can forgive myself the date confusion, but missing ligia's performance can't be so easily overlooked. then again, i won't put it past canada to have intentionally deceived me to test my commitment, in which case i wouldn't be surprised if i were stripped of my cultural exchange credentials and politely escorted back to square one (but on employment insurance, of course). that would be a shame, for sure, the worst possible insult after the pain of missing the show. but i'll have more than enough chances to get back and brush up. i never remember to buy ginseng (british columbia is a principle north american producer), and so far no one has seen me hard enough to write about it to the paper. at least it's the nature of the end of the line that you'll get there if you just keep riding.