đ¨ Disclaimer: The Maple Curtain is a satirical publicationânothing here is real, including our so-called journalists. Take it easy, eh? đ
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
âWhy Does My Hydro Bill Cost More Than My House?â
Dear Maple Curtain,
Can someone please explain to me how my hydro bill is now higher than my mortgage? I live in a modest three-bedroom house, I donât run a Bitcoin mining operation in my basement, and I sure as hell donât have a hot tub running 24/7. So why, in the middle of winter, is my hydro bill asking me for an amount that suggests Iâve personally been lighting up the CN Tower? Every month, I stare at the statement in disbelief, wondering if I should pay the bill or just sell the house and live off-grid in a shed. And donât even get me started on “delivery charges.” What exactly are they delivering? Itâs electricityâitâs not like a guy in a Purolator uniform is showing up at my door handing me a bag of volts. The rates go up, the service stays the same, and weâre all just supposed to accept that heating our homes in a country where winter lasts seven months is now a luxury. Iâd love an explanation, but I assume Hydro One would just charge me a fee for asking.
Sincerely,
A Freezing and Bankrupt Canadian
Dear Freezing and Bankrupt,
Welcome to the great Canadian tradition of being financially ruined for the privilege of not freezing to death in your own home. Your hydro bill isnât just a billâitâs a living document of government inefficiency, corporate greed, and whatever dark sorcery determines “peak usage rates.” Youâre absolutely right about “delivery charges” being nonsense. You donât get a package, you donât get a discount for living closer to a power station, and thereâs no opt-out option unless youâd like to go full pioneer and start heating your home with a wood stove and stubbornness. And letâs not forget the time-honoured scam of Time-of-Use Billingâwhere they encourage you to do all your laundry at 2 AM like some kind of deranged nocturnal raccoon.
We at The Maple Curtain wish we had better news for you, but unless you personally know a guy who can “accidentally” knock out your smart meter readings, youâre stuck paying whatever astronomical figure they pull out of a hat this month. In the meantime, we recommend adopting the classic Canadian Winter Survival Strategyâ˘: put on three sweaters, turn down the heat, and accept that your electricity bill is now the most expensive thing you own.
Stay warm (or at least try),
The Maple Curtain
âIâve Been in Line at the Drive-Thru for 30 Minutes. Is This the Apocalypse?â
Dear Maple Curtain,
I am currently writing this from the seventh circle of hell, otherwise known as the Tim Hortons drive-thru. I have been here for 30 minutes. THIRTY. MINUTES. In that time, I could have driven to the next town over, found another Timâs, and still gotten my coffee faster. I could have watched an entire episode of Corner Gas. I could have learned a new skill, like knitting or emotional patience. But instead, I have moved exactly four car lengths forward and now Iâm trappedâboxed in by the curb on one side and a lineup of equally miserable Canadians on the other.
What are these people ordering? A single coffee? No, of course not. That would be reasonable. No, these are the ones placing full catering orders at the drive-thru window, as if this is a five-star restaurant and not a place where the napkins come pre-soaked in coffee. Someone ahead of me just got four XL double-doubles, two breakfast sandwiches, a box of Timbits, and (I swear to God) a bowl of chili. A BOWL OF CHILI. Who orders soup in a drive-thru? And WHY IS IT TAKING TEN MINUTES?
I am starting to believe I will die here. My gas tank is running low. I am contemplating abandoning my vehicle and walking inside, but I know that if I do, the drive-thru will miraculously clear up the second I step through the door. I have resigned myself to my fate. If you donât hear from me again, tell my family I loved them.
Sincerely,
A Canadian Who Just Wanted a Coffee
Dear Just Wanted a Coffee,
We regret to inform you that you are officially part of Canadaâs longest-running endurance sport: Tim Hortons Drive-Thru Survival. At this point, you may as well start collecting sponsorships.
What you are experiencing is a time distortion effect that only exists within a Tim Hortons lineup. Minutes stretch into hours. Civilizations rise and fall. You swear youâve aged 10 years by the time you reach the speaker box. And yet, despite knowing this will happen, we all keep coming back.
Your rage at the “full catering order in the drive-thru” customer is fully justified. These people deserve to be tried in court. And the person who ordered a bowl of chili? Psychopath behavior. There is no excuse for ordering something that requires a spoon when people behind you are just trying to get to work.
But hereâs the worst part: When you finally get to the window, youâll still say “Thanks” out of sheer Canadian obligation, even though you just lost a year of your life.
We recommend that next time, you try the following:
- Assess the lineup before committing. If the drive-thru looks packed, do not fall into the trap. Just park and walk in.
- Set realistic expectations. If youâre in a Timâs drive-thru, know that you are entering a legally binding time loop.
- Bring emergency supplies. Snacks, a book, possibly a bedroll if youâre in Ontario during roll-up season.
Until then, stay strong, and remember: this is just the price we pay for being Canadian.
With deep sympathy,
The Maple Curtain
âDo You Have Proof That Beavers Arenât Controlling Our Government?â
Dear Maple Curtain,
I donât mean to sound like a conspiracy theorist (but letâs be honest, I absolutely am), but has anyone actually proven that beavers arenât secretly running this country? Think about it. What is the one animal that symbolizes Canada more than any other? The beaver. Whatâs on our nickel? The beaver. What does every Canadian government project have in common? It takes forever, costs way more than expected, and eventually collapses under the weight of shoddy construction. That sounds an awful lot like beaver engineering to me.
Need more proof? Consider this: Beavers spend their entire lives collecting resources, building elaborate structures, and flooding entire regions whenever they feel like it. Remind you of anyone? Thatâs rightâpoliticians. Beavers also chew through anything in their way, donât believe in efficiency, and have an unnatural obsession with red tape. Are we sure our so-called leaders arenât just highly trained beavers in disguise?
And donât even get me started on Ottawa. Itâs filled with waterways, dams, and an abundance of wood-based infrastructure. Coincidence? I think not. The so-called âHouse of Commonsâ is suspiciously close to being a lodge. Have we checked inside recently? How do we know Parliament isnât just a massive beaver dam cleverly disguised as a government building?
Until someone can definitively prove to me that beavers arenât pulling the strings, I refuse to accept that Canada is being run by humans.
Sincerely,
A Concerned (and Slightly Paranoid) Citizen
Dear Concerned and Slightly Paranoid,
Weâll be honest: We donât have proof that beavers arenât controlling our government.
And frankly? Your theory makes way too much sense.
Letâs look at the facts:
âď¸ Beavers are territorial and refuse to work together efficiently. (Sounds like Parliament.)
âď¸ Theyâre constantly rearranging things for no reason, even if it causes problems. (Sounds like city planning.)
âď¸ They build massive projects that often collapse under poor structural decisions. (Sounds like our infrastructure budget.)
âď¸ They flood areas with zero regard for the consequences. (Sounds like a new tax proposal.)
âď¸ They gnaw away at everything until nothing functional remains. (Sounds like politicians handling the economy.)
And now that you mention it, when was the last time we saw a politician and a beaver in the same room? Weâre not saying Justin Trudeau is a well-dressed beaver wearing a human suit⌠but weâre not not saying that either.
We believe you may have stumbled onto something truly groundbreaking. Until we receive definitive evidence to the contrary, we will remain deeply suspicious of any government policy involving water management, logging regulations, or tax increases cleverly disguised as “flood control fees.”
In the meantime, we urge all Canadians to stay vigilant, watch for tail slaps as a form of government communication, and demand transparency from our possibly rodent-led leadership.
Yours in barely controlled paranoia,
The Maple Curtain
