Welcome to the First World

The word "Canada" means "village," and we certainly do seem like one sometimes. Last night, the national and Toronto news reports devoted half their broadcast time to the weather. By this, I don't mean that they shared stories about how people are dying as a result of the heat wave, or that our electricity is being stretched to its limits with the possibility of blackouts across the country; I mean, the stories were all about telling us what we already know, i.e., that it's hot outside. You know, in case you live in an underground bunker, as so many of us do (note sarcasm), and you're completely out of touch with the natural environment, the Canadian newscasters are here to tell you for at least 22 minutes out of the hour that it's hot.

I don't want to be insensitive to the people who have respiratory problems, for whom this weather is really painful, but how ridiculous are we? You can't get much more simultaneous "First World" and villager than this. What about people who live in places where it's 50 degrees, and they don't have as much as a fan? But that's the beauty of living in North America; you can have anything you want and remain completely out of touch with how much of the rest of the world lives.

In Ontario, winter lasts anywhere from four to seven months, and everyone cribs about it. Then, as soon as it goes above freezing temperature, Ontarians get out the shorts, tank tops, and flip-flops and bask in the sunshine. And then, without fail, as soon as we get a handful of hot days—and they do tend to be a handful—the complaints come again.

I was more interested in hearing about inflation and the 1,800 immigrants who have been found to have obtained citizenship illegally last night.