Studies in Skid Culture #3

So I've been kinda sorta neglecting my blog lately. To my tight-knit cadre of devoted readers, I apologize. Other writing projects, a testy dial-up internet connection, and the new season of Canadian Idol have all conspired to derail my once-regular ranting schedule. That, and I've been busy catching up on the local culture in my hometown, an entertaining, oftentimes scintillating, yet time-consuming task.

Just in case you thought I was indulging in a bit of poetic license in my first entry on skid culture a couple months back, I have recently gathered much empirical evidence that the skid community is still indeed alive and well around these parts. For example, when I was walking out of Swiss Chalet last night after dinner, I witnessed a truckload of skids drive into the local Tim Horton's (conveniently located across the street from Swiss Chalet). True to form, the boys had a rusted-out Skidoo in the back of their pickup truck. In the middle of June. I kid you not. They were hollering unintelligbly but gleefully out the windows as they drove past, perhaps in anticipation of picking up a few limited-time-only strawberry tarts from Timmie's along with their double-doubles.

Sometimes this place is just too Canadian to be true. I have to say, it's great to be home.