A grandmother is a mother who has a second chance

Monday, October 1, 2007

Metric, Schmetric

As part of our recent trip to Maine, we decided to spend a couple of nights in St. Andrews, New Brunswick. I've always loved Canada and the Canadian people are so friendly - this trip was no exception. But it presented a few challenges for my husband.

We drove up the coast of Maine and headed for a town called Calais. This is right on the Canadian border - just need to go over the short bridge. We stopped at the Visitor Center in Calais and got a few brochures and the woman told us they would have more information at the Visitor Center across the bridge in St. Stephen, but they closed at 6:00pm. Ed looked at the clock and said, "Oh, well it's only 4:45 so we have plenty of time." The woman informed him that there was a one-hour time difference so it was 5:45 across the bridge. For some reason, this really freaked him out! He's certainly traveled enough and changed time zones, but always by plane or through an invisible time zone line in the middle of nowhere. The idea that you could stand on one side of the bridge at 5pm and literally see someone on the other side for whom it would be 6pm was a big hurdle for him. We did manage to get through it with only a few scars.

So we crossed the bridge (when we came to it.... sorry, sometimes I just crack myself up) and went to the St. Stephen Visitor Center for some more brochures. Then we hit the road. Saw a speed limit sign with a big 100 on it. Man, I could hear the testosterone in Ed boiling to the surface. His eyes got really big and his hands gripped the wheel. I patted his knee and said, "Whoa, cowboy - that's metric. You know, kilometers! Slow the crap down." It was sad to see him so deflated, but someone had to tell him!

Then, the next day, we stopped at a gas station and I went in to get something to drink. When I came out he was pumping gas and said, "This is great! Look at the prices - gas is only $1.05!!" Again, I had to come to the rescue. "Dude, that's per liter! There are close to four liters in a gallon!! Not a great deal." He said a few choice words and immediately stopped pumping. Poor little bucko, this just wasn't his week.

So he heaved a sigh of relief when we were back in the good old US of A and he didn't need to calculate anything anymore.

5 comments:

Fleur de Lisa said...

I lived in Hawaii many years ago and went I first moved there, gasoline was sold by the liter. How confusing! Your story made me laugh. :)

Halfmexican Mama said...

too cute..living an hour and ten min from canada, we michiganders know all that mumbo jumbo pretty darn well!

Desert Diva said...

You've gotta feel sorry for your poor hubby - a stranger in a strange land.

Apparently, he was able to navigate the subtle differences in language (such as water closet or wc for restroom)!

Alison said...

This post made me laugh! Hey, Happy Anniversary! Today is the 5th! :)

Jenni said...

Ha! Poor Ed.