Maybe we were too hard on Canadian Tire Guy

January 2nd, 2005 Posted in Essays

Having been away from Canada, it was nice to visit for a week recently to see the place as an outsider for once.

First of all: snow. There’s a lot of it and Canada’s freezing. I suppose I always knew that, but a few months in balmy climates brought home for me that Canada is essentially unlivable for human beings four months of the year.

I was similarly surprised to hear our Canadian accent with fresh ears, and realize with sudden clarity that we do, in fact, sound sort of ridiculous. After several straight days of aboots and ehs, I was forced to concede that, while our educational system might be firstrate, we nonetheless sound like the sort of people who could reliably entertain themselves for hours with chocolate sprinkles or shiny ribbon.

After a three-month diet of strict American television, I was also prone to revelation after seeing a TV personality I’d forgotten all about (aboot, rather): the Canadian Tire Guy. I was unable to find a photo of him, so I hope my description suffices.

Canadian Tire is a northern version of Home Depot; Canadian Tire Guy is their television spokesman, who’s appeared for years in commercials touting the value of their many cheap and utterly useless MasterCraft products. Canadian Tire Guy’s appearance is that of an immaculately groomed, effete geography teacher–think Bob Vila with all the rough edges sanded off.

Unlike Vila—a spokesman who seems genuinely concerned about including you in the grand adventure that is ambitious home improvement—Canadian Tire Guy is more focused on the many products he owns that, once demonstrated in front of you, clearly illustrate his superiority to you as both a consumer and human being. The man is what the physical manifestation of smug would look like, if it wore a studiously trimmed beard and pressed its shirts.

No matter what the scenario—lawn care, bookshelf installation, weather-treating the windows—Canadian Tire Guy is sure to appear out of the shrubbery to talk with a startled neighbor, pulling some MasterCraft product from a hidden flannel pocket and proceeding to complete his neighbor’s project in a fraction of the time. He’ll laughingly demonstrate the inferiority of his neighbor’s tool while extracting nails from a wall or stripping paint from an old chair, taking care to thoroughly emasculate him in front of his wife and children—whose image of their spouse and father as competent guardian is crushed like breadcrumbs through Canadian Tire Guy’s self-satisfied, unrequested busywork.

Canadian Tire Guy: “Greetings, Joe! Repairing the deck, I see.”

Neighbor: [repressing a sigh] “Yep. Just puttering away, you know.”

Canadian Tire Guy: “You know–”

Neighbor: “I don’t care, Canadan Tire Guy.”

Canadian Tire Guy: [soldiering on regardless] “You know–with my MasterCraft Deck Treatment Pump-Pen, I can waterproof lumber while writing checks and making shopping lists!”

Neighbor: “That’s great.”

Canadian Tire Guy: “Check out that pressurized nozzle! That’s one even spray! The onboard digital clock means I’m never late, and the built-in, handle-mounted thermometer never has me at a loss for the temperature! And look!” [clips pen to shirt] “The titanium grip means I’ll never lose it! Thanks, MasterCraft!”

Neighbor: “Uh huh.” [cell phone rings] “Hello? What? Oh my god.”

Canadian Tire Guy: “Something the matter, Joe?

Neighbor: “I can’t talk now, my wife’s going into labor!”

Canadian Tire Guy: “Really? You know, my MasterCraft Adjustable Five-Speed Birth Pump can suction a baby out of a uterus in half the time of a hospital! It can be powered by most major car batteries and fits right in the glove compartment! Machine washable? It is! And look!” [clips birth pump to face] “The titanium grip means I’ll never lose it! Thanks, MasterCraft!”

Despite the fact that every single Canadian utterly, unequivicably despises the Canadian Tire Guy, he’s been around for years and shows no signs of slowing down. In fact, he’s recently expanded his empire with the inclusion of Canadian Tire Wife, allowing the pair to be condescendingly grating to twice as many neighbors as ever before. Now, while Canadian Tire Guy stands by the fence and patiently explains to his neighbor why not owning MasterCraft’s new Magnetized Plasma Screen Brad-Finder makes him a mewling sissy, Canadian Tire Wife is free to prowl around indoors, happily illustrating to an unsuspecting homemaker why failing to buy a MasterCraft Attachable Vacuum Laser Scope necessarily means you live in filth and are a horrible mother.

Clearly the Canadian Tire Couple wasn’t originally intended to be so upsetting; yet this unanimously appears to be the case. It remains a mystery to me why Canadian Tire allows them to continue to appear on TV. Perhaps they’re hoping to fuel buying interest purely through spite, hoping that people will buy their products if only to wipe the smile off their spokespeople’s faces.

I couldn’t say. However, given the general consensus, I’d advise Canadian Tire making lemons out of lemonade and transform the Canadian Tire Couple from mildly off-putting to full-blown social irritants. I’d like to see Canadian Tire thoroughly explore the love these two have for their MasterCraft products gradually transforming them into social pariahs.

Have neighbors turn off lights and pretend to not be home at their approach. Visibly show their neighbors’ soul-crushing aggravation whenever they appear. Have the Canadian Tire couple throw a Christmas party—complete with all manner of MasterCraft-brand party supplies—only to have absolutely nobody show up.

Make Canada feel guilty, in other words, for hating them so passionately. Maybe we wouldn’t be so quick to change the channel on the smug bearded man after we’ve watched him snap at his wife after a particularly awkward meeting with the neighbors, tromp off to the study and cry softly under the dim lighting of his MasterCraft Emergency Highway Battery Lamps.

“Maybe we were too hard on Canadian Tire Guy,” we’ll say, finally seeing his grating attempts to push MasterCraft crap on us in our driveways for what they were—desperate grabs at friendship from a socially awkward man, who hopes to gain love from his fellow man the only way he knows how. By illustrating the versatility and portability of the MasterCraft Adjustable Insect Repellent/Hair Styling Spray-Comb.