I’m Moving to Canada. Part 3: It's Happening!

 

I’m Moving to Canada. Part 3: It's Happening!

Settle in, grab a glass (or vat) of vino or a cup (or 4) of coffee and take some time for this one. It's pretty granular, but that's what you've asked for, and who am I to say no?

In Part One of this now-3-parter, I explained why we made the life-changing decision to become permanent residents of Canada (not citizens). In Part 2, I did my best to explain how we went about it, what it took, and tried to provide more answers to your questions. In Part 3 I will ask your indulgence as I chronicle the more emotional side while hopefully providing even more information about what we've learned and what we still have to do.

I'm writing this only days before we start our 1200-mile drive to our new home.

To catch you up, we still have our leased townhouse in Port Moody, BC where we've lived part-time since October 2022, and will continue to, with our twins, until we can buy a house or a townhouse. Slim pickin's doesn't even begin to describe the market there. The houses are either way too big or way too cramped and small, not much in between. Homes are actually less expensive there than here in Southern California, but still on the high side, so at least we're uncomfortably comfortable with that. 

And for some reason, a whole lot of the homes have some inexplicable loyalty to the '80s in terms of finishes. So it'll cost us to renovate. We're game, though. We redid our current house top to bottom, inside and out, and I loved every second. Designing is a passion for me, so it wasn't intimidating or in any way intolerable. But whether we'll be able to afford to do that again is the Big Question O' the Day because it's taken us much longer to sell our current house than we thought it would.

Speaking of costs: Some things in BC (like the aforementioned houses) are less expensive, some are about the same, and some are more expensive than in greater Los Angeles, so not a big issue to grapple with. Here's another example: Comparable cable TV/Internet bundles are about $100 cheaper in Port Moody than they are where we currently live. 

We still have to find a family doctor. They pair you up with one after you sign onto a wait list. The shortage you may have read about is for realsies, so we'll keep our American doctors and dip down into California for well-checks as we wait. It can take a year, although it only took a few months for our sons to be paired. The Medicare-For-All style health care system in BC is great (supplemented by vision, dental), and there are clinics and care centers everywhere (which will refer us to specialists on the spot), but we need the continuity of a family doctor who knows our outsides and insides the way Trump knows crime, especially at our age. That challenge awaits us.

We're still figuring out the financial twists and turns. For example, there's a Tax Treaty. Who knew? We have our accountants and financial experts on it, and they're good. We opened credit card accounts, so we're starting to build credit, and our credit score is so good in the US that we'll have no trouble getting loans, should we need to. 

We got a P.O. address at Mailboxes International, so the few items that won't ship to Canada can be shipped there, and it's right on the border, about 40 minutes from Port Moody. 

Our twins are starting their second, and final, year of college so that they can get a 3-year work permit. That's what they must do, at 39 and with careers and years-old Masters degrees under their belts, to qualify. Then they have to find jobs at places that will go to bat for them when they apply for their own permanent residency. That means the employers must fill out a bunch of forms and vouch that the boys are uniquely suited for a job, rather than hiring a Canadian. That's their ticket in. Our requirements were different (see Part 2).

I've been asked a lot if we had any family ties, or anyone else who helped get us in, and the answer is no. We knew nobody, have no family there, but, as I said in Part 1, coincidentally, we discovered that Mr. Laffy's TV show was owned by a Canadian conglomerate. Someone there did him a favor by writing a letter saying that he could pitch shows to them (not that he would, but that he could; there was no requirement for proof, just that there was the potential) when we got there. That was a very tiny point in the cumulative point system they use to build a total point score. Our age got us zero, which worked against us. His vocation in the arts was a plus. The letter was minimally helpful. It's really convoluted, and as I keep saying, every person's requirements are different. We used a top immigration lawyer to guide us through because, honestly, we didn't think we stood a chance.

Yes, jumping through endless hoops is part of moving to Canada... in case that somehow got by you. One can't just decide to move there. Well, one can, for 6 months at a time and no free health care. 

💥SIDE BAR: Again, for those of you in the back, permanent residents do get free health care. The only thing we can’t do is vote. We’re still U.S. citizens. We still vote in U.S. elections.

Weather, you ask? You're moving from sunny Southern California to *gasp!* WEATHER? See Part 1, but short version: It's mild, it's Seattle, not Ontario. We love the seasons. Case closed.

Wait, what about Hamilton?! Is he allowed in? 

No worries, piece o' cake... or should I say kibble. Pets are allowed in, as long as you have proof of vaccination. We've never had any issues crossing the border with Hammy. Not once.

Crossing the border generally means driving up to a kiosk and answering a few standard questions (Guns? Drugs? Food? No. No. No.). When we actually move, we'll have to park our car, go into the border office, and show them a long list of all the household items we're bringing in with us. And by long list, I mean itemizing, on a form, every single thing in our house... plus their worth, in Canadian dollars. But because I got great advice from followers on Mastodon, we had no problem preparing for this: I snapped photos of every single thing, then listed them under each photo, then went back and estimated their value. It was tedious, but relatively pain-free. When the border agents see how thorough we are, they'll give us the okay to cross. If someone doesn't make the same effort, they start digging around, both physically and verbally.

Speaking of moving belongings, we're using Pods. We pack everything ourselves, load the Pod, they pick it up, it can then be stored in nearby Surrey, BC (at a cost) for as long as we need, it's accessible, and we have it all delivered when we buy a house and move in. Pods required and has a copy of the inventory list too.

I'm also shipping my i3 EV to Canada, where it will be held for us in Surrey. Our son has been through that process, and it's relatively painless. Paperwork is always the most annoying part, but we've done that. They pick up my car around May 25th, we leave the 26th.

Now on to the squishy, sentimental, cathartic portion of our program. I'll wait while you replenish your beverages:

Please pay attention to this part, because I repeatedly get warnings, as if I'm either naive or oblivious to what may be in store. I've been praised and I've been criticized for wanting to make this move. I explained most of that in Part 1. But to reiterate: We are well aware that no place is perfect, there's no utopia, there's no "safe" place, especially these days when authoritarianism is rampant globally. But we do feel safER for the moment, in Canada. They haven't yet caught up to our political nightmare, and OMG, they better wake up fast. ::coughPOILIEVREcough:: However, BC was a good option for us, at least until we feel less threatened back in the US of A. So we chose to make a change, to live our "golden" years surrounded by the beauty and welcoming friendliness of Port Moody.

But it was such a difficult choice. So very painful, yet also liberating. 

"Well, I'M staying and fighting!" people say to me. Well, I'm leaving and fighting, I say back. And oh, please do define "fighting." I'm not about to pick up my musket and shoot the Red Hats, now am I? I'm still pro-active, still vocal, still prolific to a fault on social media. 

So, no, nothing in that respect changes but our location. Mr. Laffy remotely continues his work on "Naked and Afraid" from Canada. I still rant and live-post the Trump trials. I bet nobody can tell where I'm typing from unless I reveal my surroundings, so not sure why I've been challenged about this so often. My political efforts remain uninterrupted and constant. I will continue to do exactly what I've been doing, only from a place that brings me more peace. I need some peace. We all need some peace. 

Leaving the US brings a lot of relief vis a vis the respite we get from the unrelenting wallops by American politics. Thankfully, and obviously, there are no Trump signs in Canada. We can breathe again. Crossing back into the US is culture-shock-slap-in-the-face brutal, inflicted by obscene, intrusive political and faux-religious signs, makeshift scrawls, banners, billboards, and even hideous "patriotic" novelty knickknacks sold in local diners. They reverberate, even weeks after the jarring offenders are hundreds of miles away.

What also reverberates are a lifetime of memories. And our walls. Our house now echoes when we speak, because everything is cleared out. It's surreal. And my mind now echoes with an onslaught of memories, some warm and some not so warm, but so many. God, there are so many. 

Now there will be new ones. 

It's sadly and oddly remarkable that I don't miss much when we're in Canada, probably because BC feels like home to me; many of my childhood vacations were spent there. Friends and family are now scattered all over the world, so we rarely see them. I will miss some things dearly, others notsomuch. By the way, the Metro Vancouver area (Port Moody is about 40 minutes east of Vancouver proper) is Americanized in many ways. 

Some random observations: 

• Physically, there's a kind of big, wide-open feeling in the US, more modern, whereas our Canadian location seems more European and close-knit, if that makes sense; a little more timeworn punctuated with lots of new, modern pockets sprouting up more and more.
• Canadians are amazingly nice, helpful, and endearing.
• I'll really miss barbecue-style restaurants.
• I really won't miss the dry landscape and lengthy heatwaves. I love being only 8 minutes from lakes, and being surrounded by forests, including bears and deer. I love the critters, despite the downsides.
• We're only minutes from Washington state if we need a US fix, so yay!
• I love the diversity. Where we live now (Thousand Oaks, CA area), mostly monochromatic.
• The restaurants are dee-lish.
• FRESH AIR. I will not miss L.A. smog.
• There are parks EVERYwhere, and most have little foresty areas that are gorgeous. They're called greenbelts. Most neighborhoods have greenbelts in Port Moody, another reason we chose that city. That and being part way up a mountain, surrounded by nature, just enough snow (about 2 weeks total if you count all the separate days, and it melts quickly).
• Port Moody is part of a tri-city area (along with Coquitlam and Port Coquitlam) so we have the best of all worlds, including being so close to Vancouver, lots of shopping, so convenient, everything at our fingertips.
• Between the cities, inlets, beach areas, rivers, lakes, forests, and rural areas, we're covered. Everything we need, want, cherish.
• Instead of supermarket packaging in Spanish and English, as it is in So. Calif., it's in French and English. I took French in high school, so it's a fun change.
• DOGS. There are dog-lovers everywhere, and I mean, EVERYwhere. They stop and chat. We see them on their walks, rain or shine. Shop owners have seen me waiting for Mr. Laffy outside with Hamilton (our mini Australian Labradoodle), and invite us IN. It's our version of paradise. 

This is an ENORMOUS upheaval, life-changing, scary, exciting, nerve-wracking, momentous, crazy-fun, sane, insane, comforting, invigorating, eye-opening, beauteous, strange, familiar, you name it. 

We're so ready for this move. I've accomplished nearly everything I've ever set out to do in the US, as has Mr. Laffy, we're lucky that way. I've had a comic strip run in papers all over the country, I've worked with major celebrities, I've had a stage and TV acting career, a writing career, a directing career. Hell, I directed f'ing Dick Van Dyke in a stage production for 2 years and performed improv comedy with f'ing Robin Williams! I nearly got hired as an animator at Disney by... Donald Duckwall! I've taught comedy to every age group from 5 to 75, at every level from grade school to college. So I'm certainly past looking for a career, been there, done that. I fell into political commentating accidentally, and can continue that seamlessly from BC. But still...

Still...

Leaving my home of eleventy-two decades makes me cry. 

It's a little like breaking up amicably. It hurts, but it feels right, the time is right. 

In response to some persistent questions, no, we're not running away, we're running TO. It's a sensation of being coaxed, not dragged. Trumpism/fascism assaulted us, sure, but Canada beckoned, and we said, "Why thank you, don't mind if we do." We could use a break. 

Let's call it out: We're old. We're counting on our next episode to provide us with a little less stress, a little more adventure and beauty. Our US home has started to drain us, and we can't afford that physically or mentally. Our new home will inevitably also be stressful, but in a different way, a more pleasant way... hopefully. So far, after living on and off in Port Moody for nearly two years, it's proved to be everything we'd hoped for.

So instead of raising an eyebrow, raise a glass. 

Here's to the next chapter. Cheers!