Unless you live next door to the Playboy Mansion, I think we can pretty much agree that neighbors suck. They borrow your last egg, they call the cops on you for having a “small” gathering and they get way too upset when you accidentally crawl into bed with their wife after drinking too much at said “small” gathering.
Over the years, I’ve had lots of awful neighbors: opera singers, aggressive drunks, marching band members, juice-heads, lesbians with cats, reality show stars, etc.
America, on the other hand, only has two neighbors; upstairs (Canada), and downstairs (Mexico). While we don’t get a lot of stomping around from upstairs, occasionally the Celine Dion is turned up a little loud. Meanwhile, our buddy downstairs always smells like weed, his place is kind of dirty and I’m pretty sure he’s not paying renter’s insurance. So who is the better neighbor: Canada or Mexico?
BEST BEER IN THE FRIDGE
Do you like your beer garnished with a piece of ice at a hockey game or with a lime poolside? Both are good options, but as the late great John Candy (Sheriff Bud Boomer) said in the film Canadian Bacon, “…Canadian beer sucks.”
Mexican beers signify a good time is happening; vacation, summertime, hot tub party. Canadian beers usually just signify a sale at the grocery store. Corona vs. Molsen. Dos Equis vs. Labatte Blue. Sol vs. Moosehead. If Mexican beer is good enough for “The Most Interesting Man in the World,” then it’s good enough for me.
At any given moment, either of our neighbors may have some quality trim hanging around, but I’ll put it this way: if your night ends in a Canadian strip club, there is an 85% chance your night ended well. If your night ends in a Mexican strip club, there is a 0% chance your night ended well, (and a 75% chance your penis will develop more bumps than a poorly paved Mexican road.)
The Canadians have given is some real gems: Pamela Anderson, Playmate of the Year Jayde Nicole, and Entourage’s Emmanuelle Chriqui.
Our neighbors downstairs have given us some ladies as well, namely my housekeeper, Rosalinda, who “don’t do the laundry.”
Going to a preseason hockey game in Canada is like going to game seven of the World Series in America. Our northern neighbors excel at all sports that take place on top of frozen water. Our Friends down south, on the other hand, can’t even drink their own water. Ice Hockey and Curling are cool and all, but can they really hold their frozen ground against boxing, bullfighting, soccer, cockfighting, baseball and Mexican wrestling? I think not. Even though Canada is our only neighbor to have teams in the NHL, NBA and MLB, we all know the best part of going to a Toronto Blue Jays game is getting nachos.
In the history of civilization, nobody has ever gotten so stoned that they jumped out of their beanbag chair and proclaimed, “I feel like Canadian food!” However, tacos, quesadillas, tamales, tortillas, gorditas, salsa and guacamole have satisfied more stoners than a New Years Eve Phish show. The best part about Mexican food is that you don’t even have to be high to enjoy it. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s the only type of food that you can melt cheese on top of ANYTHING, and it works. Canadians are known for their syrup and seafood, two great tastes that don’t taste great together. This category would be a shutout in favor of our downstairs neighbors if it wasn’t for Canada’s culinary secret… Poutine: a dish of fries topped with cheese curds and gravy. That shit is delicious.
My knowledge of Mexican music consists of seeing 12-piece Mariachi bands shoved into the corner of bars on May 5th and lunch trucks blaring “La Cucaracha” as they push the above mentioned tasty treats to sweaty construction workers. Canada has given us the good (Arcade Fire), the bad (Crash Test Dummies), and the ugly (Celine Dion). From Sum 41 to The Barenaked Ladies to Rush, the party mix coming from our upstairs neighbor is a bit better than the horn section coming from downstairs. Plus, lesbians love Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morissette, Nelly Furtado and a totally different type of barenaked ladies.
Sorry Mexico, but your weed sucks more than a “senorita” during donkey show sweeps week. If I’m running dry in the bud department, I’m heading to our upstairs neighbor. You gotta trust a country that has a leaf on their flag to grow decent weed, and Canada doesn’t disappoint. Mexican weed is equal parts seeds, sand, and stems – hard to believe from a country that produces so many fine gardeners.
Mexico and Canada are only separated by a few thousand miles (the coolest miles in the world). And even though I have pretty much hated every neighbor I’ve ever had, I think our neighbors are not too shabby. We got the slopes and dope upstairs, and the surf and sopas downstairs. Hey, it sure beats the hell out of living next to North Korea.
Secondhand Smoke is a weekly column by Playboy Radio Morning Show host Kevin M. Klein. Follow Kevin on Twitter.