When Gil and I decided to stud our own bike tires a while
back, we set out for supplies (a box of 5/8”metal screws) to the most aptly named
store I could think of: Canadian Tire. Those of you who live outside the Great
White North may not be familiar with this nationwide retail chain. It’s long
been as much a part of Canadian culture as Tim Hortons and maple syrup. For generations, at least prior to the big box revolution,
Canadian Tire was the place Canadians
went to for just about any cheap-to-mid-range thing you might need, from
automotive supplies to garden tools to hardware to kitchenware to sporting
goods and electronics.
Like many Canadians my age, I have fond memories of the
place. As a teenager, I would ride my CCM 5-speed to Canadian Tire about once a
week to spend my allowance, mainly on fishing tackle (Trilene, Mepp’s Black
Fury’s, Red Devils) and blank audio cassette tapes (Memorex, anyone?), and to
gawk at weird broomball shoes and displays of knives (under glass) and guns
(locked in a rack—this is Canada) kept behind the counter in the hunting
section.
But the absolute best part about Canadian Tire—ask anyone my
vintage—was (and perhaps still is) Canadian Tire money. That’s right, the store
has its own currency. CT money is part of one of the original customer reward
programs, created long before anyone had conceived of an Air Mile. When you pay
with cash (or, these days, debit), you get back a handful of Canadian Tire
money (between 1-3% worth of your purchase), in the form of money-like bills,
in denominations from 5 cents to $2. These can, in turn, be used against any
subsequent purchase at any Canadian Tire. As a kid, I loved this fake money— it
felt, looked, smelled surprisingly
like the real thing, and urban myths abound of Canadian-Tire-money pranks and
scams, usually involving some gullible American retailer in a border state, who
accepted the stuff as legal tender.
Annoying CT-Commercial Guy |
Now, the more I look at King Sandy on those bills, the more
he reminds me of those tweeded, sporty gentlemen often seen in old cycling
photos—the dignified club man, dressed for the elements, with pipe and pouch in
pocket, the kind of gentle old-school cyclist we’re fond of here at the Dusty
Musette. No way he’d let a little cold and snow stop him from running his highwheeler
to the Anchor Inn for a milk and soda at the weekend. In fact, I take that
scarf as a sign that Sandy would most definitely approve of our desire to ride
through the winter. And, being a frugal, self-sufficient, hardy Scot, he’d also
endorse—with a wink, I think—our stingy, do-it-yourself approach to tire
studding.
Alas Canadian Tire no longer holds the prominent place in
the Canadian retail scene that it once did. These days Canadians tend to get
their fishing lures and broomball shoes at Wal-Mart, like the rest of the
world. Indeed, there may well come a day when Canadian Tire currency needs a
bailout from the German government. Still, for now, Gil and I were happy as
haggis to fork over a few loonies in exchange for a box of screws and a brand-new-looking
10 cent bill. With our toques at a sly angle, we returned home to fashion our very own Canadian tires.
Hey he is not that annoying!
ReplyDeleteGill
A geat trip down memory lane at CTC, still my favourite store.
ReplyDeleteThis blog is truly extraordinary in all aspects.
ReplyDeletewinter