Now, I don’t know if you grew up in the Middle of Great Canadian Buttfuck Nowhere like most of us here did, but if you did, then I won’t need to explain to you the great Canadian principle and tradition of the bush bash.
This has nothing whatsoever to do with American politics, except that, in all likelihood, we did something like this when we invaded Washington in the War of 1812, and that should Dubya finally go down in flames, or up in a puff of fire and brimstone, it’ll be another fine excuse for such a celebration.
The bush bash is nothing more than a huge party, involving anywhere from about 15 TO 300 people: you all leave town at different times, by different routes (assuming your town has more than one road, not a given in some small towns) and rendezvous out in some farmer’s back 40. It is considered friendly-like, but not compulsory, to invite the farmer as well.
You bring beer.
There is a bonfire.
That’s it.
Once, my parents were out at one such bash (yes, respectable-ish middle-aged people go to these things, not just teenagers; the teenagers are all home playing video games and playing on MySpace) with the mayor and the head of the local RCMP detachment. At one point, some uniformed officers materialized and shamefacedly walked over to their boss to tell him that they’d be busting up the bush bash and arresting people, “in about twenty minutes, okay?”
Thoughtful of them; the place emptied faster than a can of Moosehead! No arrests were made: the raid found the bash mysteriously empty.
In any case, there comes to the raincoaster blog word that last year’s award dinner for the BC Liquor Distribution government agency was not exactly the picture of decorum. No indeed: it appears that the BC boozefloggers showed an entirely overenthusiastic dedication to the product, with one of the award-winners securing his place in mythology by being too drunk to walk up the short staircase to the podium.
He crawled it. Respect!
…an unholy combination of circumstances developed at the province’s annual long service awards dinner at Government House that left many guests shuddering. The event turned into such a drunken horror show it took almost a full year of legal wrangling to resolve. The full story, recounted in a recently released arbitrator’s ruling, is a hair-raising tribute to Lt.-Gov. Iona Campagnolo‘s grace in the midst of chaos (and ability to keep a lid on the story of the Party Disaster of the Century).
With 25 years service to Her Majesty on his record, the janitor — let’s call him Party Boy — was given an invitation to the dinner. He checked into the Laurel Point Inn and had four ciders to relax, before attending the pre-reception reception, where he downed four rum and cokes, and two glasses of wine from the open bar. He had four more rum and cokes at Government House.
With 250 guests assembled, including every single one of his bosses from the deputy minister on down, the festivities began…
The lieutenant-governor was at her imperturbable best when she noted at one point during the carnival: “It’s always entertaining when liquor distribution branch employees are receiving awards.”
There must have been video, or otherwise how could anyone have remembered?
