Early as usual to pick up a friend at the airport. International Arrivals. Didn't even look to see how much parking is. Not like I can get street parking. The earlier I get there, the more expensive it is.
Starving, I went upstairs and could not believe the length of the security line-up. From the food court to ... as far as I could see. Which is always farther than you think.
The line-ups at the food counters were eight deep, so I went to the magazine shop and was shocked to see how few magazines and newspapers there were. In their place: chips, beef jerky, sweets. Camping food, but at Urban Fare prices. I wanted none of it.
Speaking of camping, there's a little nook at the southeast corner of the shop where you can find heavy, red-checked shirts, one of them with a t-shirt reading "CANADA" tucked inside. Water bottles, mugs, glasses, socks, slippers, all of them branded "CANADA", some of them sporting the maple leaf.
The last time I saw Canada represented like this at the airport was in the early-1970s. Fifty years of attempting a cosmopolitan Canada and now we are back to -- bush parties?
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