Almost everyone from the East Coast has a local band, actor, author or talent that they like to lay claim to.
Not in a boastful way, mind you. No, not at all. But it is a matter of pride.
First of all, Atlantic Canada is relatively small place. Chances are, you know someone who knows someone.
(I’ve heard all of the following in casual, completely unpretentious conversations: Sarah McLachlan went to my high school. Sidney Crosby is my cousin. I used to play soccer with Ellen Page.)
Secondly, Atlantic Canada is a friendly place. Even if you don’t have six-degrees-of-separation from the Trailer Park Boys, that doesn’t mean you won’t get an enthusiastic high-five from Bubbles in the Cole Harbour grocery store while you’re both buying frozen burgers.
Thirdly, Atlantic Canadians are just plain awesome.
As Canadians, we’ve all experienced that collective swell of pride when a fellow Canuck makes it big (and does good).
Multiply that feeling by one hundred when that person is from your home province. Multiply by a thousand when they’re from your hometown.
Which brings me to one of my hometown’s sources of pride, The Stanfields. Their band members are connected to our remote seacoast village in Nova Scotia. Everybody in our happy hamlet knows them (which isn’t hard, because everyone knows everyone).
And this weekend, my husband and I are catching their acoustic show in Calgary. We can’t wait.
Not just because we know them, but because they’re awesome.
Tell me, how could you not love a band that wrote the song, “The Dirtiest Drunk (In the History of Liquor)”?
When someone from Alberta learns that I’m originally from Nova Scotia, they inevitably want to know if I know their other friend from Nova Scotia, So-and-so.
Sometimes I do. Often I don’t.
But one thing I do know – they’re probably awesome, too.