We like that the Economist, Mercer and the UN have repeatedly named Vancouver one of the swellest places in the world to live. It’s true. We live here, and it’s a very nice place indeed. But we’re far from perfect. There are a few things we should consider doing to ensure our now very visible house is in high gloss order for when our global guests arrive in anticipation of the Games…

London Calling

We’re very sorry, anti-Olympic protestors, but you lost. Badly. And that is shocking really, because the confidence we once had in your leadership had me thinking you really could stop the corporate Olympic juggernaut with Facebook groups, chants, and camouflage pants (personally, I thought you really blended in). We were totally on your side, and still are, so why not move your talents to London right now to prep for 2012? The British people have a long history of responding really well to foreigners willing to give them direction, and your efforts are now, more than ever, desperately needed. Go for gold. Answer the call. And good luck to you.

STFU Urban Whiners

If you live in an urban neighbourhood like Yaletown, Gastown, or the West End, you don’t get to complain about big city realities like noise, crowds, parking, or anything symptomatic of your environs. It’s true that nobody sympathises with your complaints precisely because you’ve elected to live in the place where the things that you complain about are supposed to happen. City Hall thinks you’re a bunch of wankers, for sure. If you want quiet during the Games once you’ve flogged your expansive 500 sqft “loft” for $500 a night on Craigslist, consider moving back to the burbs for good.

Suburban Steroid Douchebags

Dear VPD, please put up road blocks on all arteries leading to the city from Burquitlam, Abbotsford and Surrey to ensure we aren’t overrun with fist-pumping freakazoids during the Games. Nothing is quite as guaranteed a buzzkiller than a troop of douchebags pissed on Red Bull and Stoli let loose with flags on the Granville Strip, especially the shirtless ones with bodies that look like greased up and bloated cadavers filled with cocaine and protein shakes. Sadly, our jails aren’t big enough to contain their numbers, and the subculture is too racially diverse to actively profile. Damn.

Destroy Your Hummer

What? They’re still around? Yup. There’s even a dealership right in the city’s backyard. Appalling stuff. It’s not so much that these mega-SUVs waste a verifiable shitload of gas, it’s that there’s a unrepentant militarist ethos enveloping the brand making its drivers look like small penised jerkoffs of the first order. Sell it. Park it. Crash it. Take it the Grand Canyon and Thelma and Louise it. Whatever. Just stop embarrassing us.

Hide The Bacon(s)

Dear local media, everyone loves bacon, especially our European visitors, so temporarily halt all Bacon brothers coverage so as to keep the confusion level at a minimum. Whenever we read about their fabulous escapades (as if they’re the Olsen twins), we all die a little inside, as if we’ve been asked to choose between the New Kids On The Block and the Backstreet Boys. We want to hate them, but they’re bacon.

Hotel Laziness

It would be great if those hotel front desk people who have no qualms about recommending boring restaurants to out-of-towners were put on holiday during the Games and replaced by those who actually like food. To experience what I’m on about, call around the major hotels and ask for advice on the best restaurants in town. Some stay up to date, but too many will make you throw your phone against the wall.

Stick To Radio

Dear CBC Television, what the hell happened to you? Ratings dip aside, in the last stretch you’ve lost all Olympic coverage to CTV, the Hockey Night In Canada song to TSN, and Ron Maclean’s brain to Satan. Maybe take a rest for the duration?

Legalise Weed

Why not float a test balloon that sees grow operators afforded the same licenses as hot dog vendors downtown so as to showcase our top export? I’m not advocating that we get our international visitors totally stoned, but Germans are a lot funnier when they’re baked.

Defeat Hipsterism

Wow, when the teens usurp your look, it’s over. Trying to look ironically stupid and unaffected at the same time was a weird call. Thanks for muddying the zeitgeist. Next.

Stop Stereotyping

Dear young, red-blooded Australian men in Whistler, it’s a mystery as to why and how there are thousands of you on the mountain in the first place, but since it’s too late to launch a full counter-invasion (the Army is otherwise bogged down in a fight against the reanimated bears on snowless Cypress), you can stay…for now. But remember, you represent your host country in the interim, so while we fully appreciate that you’ve never seen so many attractive women in your lives, tread gently, or better still, pretend to be Kiwi. It’s just two weeks.

Lose The Bluetooth

We know that driving while using a cell phone is illegal now, but those futuristic bluetooth headsets make you look ridiculous, now more than ever. Everyone totally agrees.

Eat Independent

Since we’re ranked as one of the world’s most exciting food cities, it’s a joke that McDonald’s has been granted the title of’ “official restaurant” of the 2010 Olympic Games. No matter how much money they paid for that bit of silliness, those who live here know the fast food chain represents Vancouver and winter sports about as much as Stephen Harper represents Saltspring and erotic massage. How does one fight back? By eating independent.

RCMP Restraint

Dudes, if you draw the short straw and find yourself on airport duty, resist the urge to taser foreign dignitaries who don’t speak English. Oh, and when the Polish Olympic team arrives, try to blend in. Act natural.

Cambie St. Merchants

Behold the local price of nationalism, the moment you’ve been destroyed for! If you haven’t received your free tickets to the opening ceremonies yet, wait another week. Then another. Then another…

No More Ed Hardy

If you wear this crap without constantly slapping your shins hard with a wet whip, you’re letting the side down.

Leave Us Alone

We know you don’t like our presence in Afghanistan much, neither our crazy civilisation, nor our prediliction for sport, but we ask that you put our differences aside and allow us our little corporate adfest until we’re destitute and feeling especially violated by our own government (win for you). Respect it as you would a regilious holiday, only with skiing and ice dancing. Forgive us our trespasses. Let the lugers luge.

Ease Up On The Aggression

Dear excessively aggressive panhandlers not suffering from any sort of adverse mental health condition, you’re very effective! But since few of our European and Asian visitors are going to be convinced that you couldn’t find a temporary job during the biggest mass-heist in the history of money, maybe dial down the asshole sense of entitlement and say please. There may be many nanny states like ours among the winter sports countries, but over there they keep the exchange between beggar and enabler much sweeter. You might just rake it in.

What Happens In Vegas…

In recent years it’s become a trend in some of our bigger restaurants to mimic what they see happening in the Las Vegas. Case in point: equipping management types with communication earpieces. If you ever see one, hold back the urge to punch him in the neck because you will be thrown out after being made to pay your bill (never fun). Instead, gently remind him that he’s not only making himself look rather silly, he’s also making his customers feel like they’re being watched. And that’s not cool.

Take A Tourist To The DTES

As this surprisingly unglossy MSNBC story about the DTES reveals, there is still such a thing as journalism in the big leagues. It would be great if other major media outlets followed suit, covering more than just the pomp and circumstance of the Games, like the fact that the DTES has the worst HIV rate in the developed world, or that its safe injection sites are the planet’s busiest. While we love basking in the warm glow of visitors gushing over our scenery and sterile architecture, we’d be naive to think those same gushers wouldn’t be aghast at what they might find should they ever stray off Vancouver’s sanitary paths. So, since there isn’t enough time or will remaining to do much about the DTES, if the opportunity presents itself, do your best to direct all the tourists you meet in that direction. Show them what a lot of short-sighted Vancouverites don’t want them to see. Instead of balking at admitting the failings of our fair city, we should trumpet them in our loudest voices, for the more the world knows about them, the faster our municipal, provincial and federal goverments might work better together to find lasting solutions instead of the bandaids they’ve applied so far.

Stop The Violence

No murders, K? If, during the Games, no one “known to police” is found shot to death on some Burnaby front lawn or slumped thoroughly slugged over a Range Rover steering wheel in front of a school, we’d consider it a major victory. Lets all come together on this. You can do it!

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