The Deserted Bandwagon

Author: Matt Kunzweiler

Living in the resort town of Whistler, British Columbia - a snap-together wonderland designed for the explicit purpose of making American tourists spend their newly acquired, multi-colored, wildlife-adorned Canadian currency - one's morals can get a little mangled and bizarre pleasures can be found in unexpected places.

For many, compulsive lying has become a popular past-time. And tourists are the perfect target - you will probably never see them again and you probably harbor some sort of animosity towards them since they are intruders in your community. (Okay, this is a flawed viewpoint, as tourist dollars prevent the local economy from collapsing, but, regardless, we're allowed to irrationally dislike them...we're all emotional people).

Popular fictions told to tourists include: "The metric system is a myth," "You can't get sunburned if there's snow on the ground, it's simply too cold" and "Go ahead, pet the bears." One would think that I'd have a special sensitivity to lying to American tourists since I grew up in the United States. Oddly enough, this isn't the case. One morning I found myself on a chairlift with a family from Texas, the state where I was born and raised. When I lived there, some of my childhood friends convinced me of the existence of jackalopes - rabbits with massive antlers, a sort of Texan unicorn. I never managed to recover from the shame of being so severely duped. But here on the chairlift was my opportunity to avenge this disgrace upon the entire Texan people!

After some small talk, the father, sitting next to me on the chairlift, commented on a large sticker I had affixed to one of my skis. The sticker, shaped like a sports pennant, read: "Go Satan!" The man looked at me dismayed, "Is that a joke?"

"Oh, that? No, I put that on my skis as a polite gesture. For a friend."

"Um. I..."

"Many of my friends are Satanists," I explained. "It's a very popular religion in Canada - the fourth most popular. Actually, it might even be the third. I should look this up. Anyway, all the Satanists I know are good people. Strong morals. Strong sense of family. True, Satan got a pretty bad rap in the Bible. Satanists are trying to restore the reputation he deserves. And the Temple of Satan has done a lot of reforming over the past decade. They've entirely done away with the cannibalism. They're pro-charity and anti-war. My friend is trying to convert me, so I told him I'd put this sticker on my skis and think about it. To be honest with you, he might have found a believer in me. Good people, Satanists."

They bought my story, and the jackalope ordeal had been settled after seven years of frustration. We unloaded at the top of the lift before I had to invent any more theology. I wished the family an enjoyable vacation, but as the father stood up on his snowboard, he lost balance and, in desperation, grabbed my jacket and tackled me to the snow before I could get away. He was a large man, and the Texans had humiliated me again.