For those of you with a passing memory of grade-school history, our so-called founding fathers signed Canada into existence in 1867. The location was… - Rick Mercer

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For those of you with a passing memory of grade-school history, our so-called founding fathers signed Canada into existence in 1867. The location was Prince Edward Island. A bloat of prosperous men from all over British North America came together and, fortified with a ridiculous amount of liquor, they argued and drank until a country was born.
It was not an immaculate conception; it was a messy one.
Modern-day Canada prides itself on being a diverse nation, and the Fathers of Confederation were no slouches in that department. There were many shades of white and a variety of English accents. Diversity was encouraged as long as everyone was Protestant. Rumours persist that there were a few Irish Catholics in the mix. If true, they kept their lifestyle on the downlow.
The man at the centre of the founding bender was Sir John A. Macdonald. He would go on to become Canada's first and drunkest prime minister. After we was sworn in for the first time, he was asked what is the most he ever spent on a bottle of whiskey. His answer? Forty-five minutes.

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About Rick Mercer

Richard Vincent "Rick" Mercer (born October 17, 1969) is a Canadian comedian, television personality, political satirist, and author. He is best known for his work on the CBC Television comedy shows This Hour Has 22 Minutes and Rick Mercer Report. He is the author of four books based on content from the shows and the two part memoir consisting of Talking to Canadians (November 2021) and The Road Years (October 2023). Mercer has received more than 25 Gemini Awards for his work on television.

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Alternative Names: Richard Vincent Mercer
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Additional quotes by Rick Mercer

There is an expression in Ottawa that every member of Parliament believes they should be in cabinet and every member of cabinet thinks they should be prime minister. The exception is any member of Parliament from Newfoundland. They go to bed at night thinking they should be ambassador to Ireland.
What a job it would be, lying around the fancy house in Dublin, representing the not very pressing interests of Canada in the land of your forefathers. The spare bedroom in the house would be filled with a steady stream of relatives and old high school buddies hell-bent on having a party and finding out where their great-grandparents are buried. The best Newfoundland musicians would be at the embassy, hobnobbing with their fiddle-playing Irish counterparts. The kitchen parties would be epic.
Mother Ireland. The Emerald Isle. The Land of Saints and Scholars.
She's easy on the eyes and hard on the liver.

"In my early comedy days, I made loads of fun of this guy. "The Spicer Commission spent millions of dollars," I declared, "they produced five phone books' worth of paper - and they still didn't answer the question." I added: "Our founding fathers would have been appalled."
This was back in the day when you could use the term "founding fathers" and not get hissed at."

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"But legend has it that when Sir John, or JohnJohn as he was known to friends, signed the country into existence, he eloquently defined what it meant to be a Canadian. Unfortunately, the next day, crippled from the sauce, nobody could remember what it was he said. "I remember it was jolly good," said Sir Edward Barron Chandler. "Mais oui," said Sir Jean-Charles Chapais. "Magnifique!" They then had a round of straighteners and started all over again.
The answer to what it means to be Canadian was lost to the ages.
For his part Macdonald had no recollection of signing anything important, let alone saying anything profound. In fact, he only learned he'd helped form a country when he read about it in a day-old newspaper on the train home. That's a hell of a thing to find out you've done while you're nursing a hangover. Also, he was missing a shoe.
Personally, I blame this prime ministerial blackout for the fact that, 150 years later in 2004, nobody had answered the question yet."

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