I went back to Calgary for a week-long vacation after about a year and a half. I usually go home at least once a year at Christmas and once in the summer, but due to various constraints this past year, I haven't been back since December of last year.

What always strikes me is that no matter how long I've been away, no matter what I've experienced, and no matter what wonderful cities I fall in love with in the meantime, the minute I step off the plane at Calgary International Airport, I feel like I've finally come home.

To many people, they probably wouldn't understand the loyalty I feel for Cowtown. The Flames haven't made it to the playoffs in like ten years, and to those born out east or in the States, Calgary has very little to offer (except to our friends in California and Texas where they see Calgary as a big fat paycheque dripping with natural gas and oil). In fact, the top ten list of things people would probably think of when Calgary is mentioned would probably look something like this:

1. Calga-who?
2. Cows
3. The Stampede
4. Didn't they hold the Olympics sometime in the 80's?
5. No, seriously... Calga-who?
6. Ralph Klein, love or hate him
7. Oil, gas, jacked up oil prices
8. The Flames: team with heart or exercise in futility?
9. Cowboys in full hat and boot regalia, driving...
10. Big Ass SUVs and Ford Pickups

However, when you were born here and grew up here, you can't help but feel a little attachment to this city. Okay, so because we tend to use wood siding, newer communities tend to look like tinderbox towns when they're first built, and new drivers to the cities will find navigation in said communities daunting ("Okay, so we've reached Strathcona Hill, now how do we get to Strathcona Lane again? Was it left on Strathcona Drive, right on Strathcona Crescent, past Strathcona Circle, then right on Strathcona Avenue? Or was it right on Strathcona Crescent, left on Strathcona Circle, then..."), not to mention that the drivers here still haven't decided whether they want to drive like Torontonians or small towners. Part of the problem might be Calgary's slightly below par traffic planning. (For example, if you drive in Calgary, you better like traffic lights.) Also, Calgarians tend towards the right politically (Preston Manning was an Albertan, and I went to school with Joe Clark's nephew), though unless we live in High River or similar towns, we don't tend to believe in owning firearms. And unlike my old Social teacher, they generally don't believe in aiming them at Reform members either.

Still, there's a charm to the city you just can't deny. I challenge you to find a cleaner downtown core than Calgary's (besides Singapore, of course), and any person who visits would be impressed how friendly most Calgarians are. I remember once when I was driving on one of busier "highways" (defined as any road with a speed limit of 70 or above), and I noticed that the door to my car wasn't entirely closed. I pulled over to shut it, and almost immediately, the woman in the car driving behind me pulled over as well, came up to my window and asked me if I was having car trouble and could she call road assistance for me. I felt a little stupid telling her that I just had to shut my door. Still, after I thanked her for her concern, she waited until after I had pulled away from the shoulder before taking off herself. You just don't get road-side assistance like that in, say, Montreal. If you're a pedestrian, you'll also notice that no matter where you want to cross, if a driver notices your intention, he will slow down for you, if not stop altogether.

Despite the lack of night-life in the downtown core (the place is dead after 6:30 pm), people really know how to have fun here too. Every year at Stampede time, everyone goes to work in blue jeans and (if they own them) cowboy boots. In fact, work practically comes to a standstill during those 10 days. Every other corporation is holding pancake breakfasts available to the general public, giving away Stampede discounts to the Exhibition grounds to their employees or holding either a company bbq steak lunch or dinner accompanied by line dancing lessons or some such. Given, if you don't like country music, walking in the downtown core can get irritating during that period, but still, it's a wonderful time in the city when everyone lets loose, and enjoys itself in general.

Believe it or not, one of the things about Calgary I missed the most was... the weather. It's odd, I admit, considering how... capricious... the weather can be in Calgary. For instance, as of last August, I can say that within my lifetime, Calgary has had snow every month of the year. Not every month of a single year, mind you, but still since I can remember, there hasn't been a month that I can with conviction that there has been no snow. The motto around here is that if you don't like the weather, just wait 30 minutes. We're probably one of the few cities on this lattitude that can have 20+ Cweather in the middle of winter, courtesy of the good ol' chinook wind. Okay, so we're also probably one of the only cities in North America to go through the four seasons in less than 3 days, but still, at least we get that reprieve from -30 C weather.

Gotta admit too, we native Calgarians rarely complain about the weather in other parts. I mean, sure, in Calgary, we're always complaining. (See previous paragraph.) For some of us, it's the only thing we have to talk about. But anywhere else (except maybe the Yukon), you can bet anything that when the weather turns lousy, the only person NOT complaining will be the Calgarian. At below 10 C, when all the Easterners are starting to bundle down into sweaters, the Calgarian is the guy still out in shorts and T-shirt. At -20 C, when Torontonians are complaining about how cold it is, the Calgarian is the guy who's looking at you going, "Cold? Funny, I didn't find it that cold." At -30 C, when Montrealers are starting to whine about the lousy winter, the Calgarian will be that really irritating guy going, "Listen, you wanna know cold? You wanna know lousy? Well, lemme tell you..." This, of course, is shortly before he is bludgeoned and stabbed to death by an angry mob armed with icicles. I should know. I've escaped this fate numerous times since I came out east. :)

If I love and miss the place so much, I can hear you asking, then why the hell don't I go back there? Well, there's a lot of things keeping me out East for the time being. This job of mine that gives me opportunities I wouldn't have in Cowtown, the fact that I still dream of going back to Montreal some day (the second city in my heart), and well, a few other reasons that I'm not willing to share on such a public forum. This, of course, won't prevent me from spouting about the many virtues of my native city that I know and love so well. Ask any of my friends.

They're the guys in the background brandishing icicles.

Apr. 13, 2003

Definition:
Chinook Wind: A really warm, dry wind that blows from over the Rockies. If you're interested in the phenomenon, what happens is that as air coming from off the Pacific it gets forced up over the mountains, and as it does so, it is forced to shed the majority of its moisture. When it gets to the other side, it rushes down through the foothills, gathering speed as it goes, pushing the "native" air upwards in an inversion. These winds have been known to reach 50 kph or more, depending on where in the foothills you are. back

 

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