By Lou Maze

Goat Humour Columnist

My son regularly boasts that he is “an interior kid,” but eight years back he was a Vancouverite.

Being a Vancouverite means you own more than one umbrella. One is formal (almost always black) and one is whimsical, festooned with little yellow ducks wearing rubber boots or smiley faces.

Pot smokers and optimists always have one prettied up with a rainbow. Come January, this can get you beaten up in some parts of town.

The most confounding thing Vancouverites do with umbrellas is carry them in a snow storm. They have no idea how ridiculous they look to the rest of the country. Those who spend six months of our lives shifting snow have no interest in sporting a load of it over our heads and carting it off to work.

In Vancouver you can sit outside one hospital and be walking distance from another one. At 12th and Oak, you have your choice of four others. If you call an ambulance it will be there in less than an hour because the guys always grab a cappuccino down at the Starbucks on the corner between runs.

In the interior we learn to drive and bleed at the same time. Wounds requiring stitches at 12th and Oak barely get a Band-Aid, and they heal in fascinating patterns bordering on artwork.
Who needs tattoos?

Vancouverites would never eat venison — that’s Bambi’s Mommy. They are horrified by the sport of hunting, while living off meat derived from factory farms.

In the interior we eat venison and moose. Until we arrive to ruin their day, these creatures had a life, running through the forest; swimming in rivers; they’ve even had a sex.

In Vancouver if your car breaks down there is always a tow truck nearby.  While you wait, your spirit will be buoyed up by ridicule from kids in cars that cost more than your condo.

In the interior, when your car breaks down, you will probably get a ride from a neighbour, or help from a stranger, or you’ll know how to fix it yourself. A breakdown becomes an opportunity to connect with old friends, make some new ones or hone your mechanical skills.

I don’t think interior people are better than Vancouverites, but I think we are better at balancing self-reliance, with reliance upon each other.

And that’s the best recipe for a happy life.