It’s been a while since I’ve written in my usual way, and there’s a reason for that. Most of my time, heart, and focus have been devoted to the Forever-Canadian Citizen Initiative. But sometimes the world shakes your keyboard and says, “Put the clipboard down, Nancy. Type.”
So here I am, sitting in Mexico, the southern slice of what I call the North American sandwich, surrounded by people from across the U.S., Canada and Mexico. The conversations by the pool drift inevitably toward politics. Some Americans are furious about their leadership, others are numb to it, and some don’t even know anything is different. Most have no idea what’s happening in Canada, except to wonder why we’re upset.
But this morning brought something worth a few keystrokes. The orange buffoon spent the night on Truth Social, searching for a distraction from his gilded ballroom and the latest headlines involving Jeffrey Epstein’s victims, including Virginia Giuffre’s new book. What he found instead was Canada.
Trump claimed that the Ronald Reagan Foundation had “caught” Canada in a $75-million “fraudulent” ad, one that allegedly misused Reagan’s words about tariffs. He ranted that “Canada cheated,” that we’ve “long defrauded the U.S. with 400% tariffs on dairy,” and that our government was trying to “illegally influence” his Supreme Court case.
Let’s pause there. The man who regularly steals music, photos, and even faces for his AI campaign videos, including one last week of himself flying a golden jet to Danger Zone while wearing a crown, is suddenly a crusader for copyright law? That’s not irony. That’s self-parody.
This latest tantrum isn’t about Reagan or Canada. It’s about fear. He’s staring down a Supreme Court ruling on tariffs, one that could flatten his economic mythology, and he’s looking for a new villain. He found it north of the border. He’s trying to turn a provincial ad into a federal conspiracy.
Could the ad have overstepped by using Reagan’s image without approval? Possibly. I’m reasonable enough to admit that. If a clip was condensed or spliced out of context, lawyers can sort it out. But let’s not pretend that Donald Trump, who’s spent his entire public life mangling other people’s words, suddenly found religion on ethical editing.
Reagan, for all his faults, valued Canada. He believed in partnership, not punishment. When he talked trade, he spoke of allies, not adversaries. His remarks in that original clip were about Japan, not us, but his message was clear: tariffs are blunt weapons, not strategies. Trump, on the other hand, loves tariffs in a way that has concerns only for his own personal gain.
When the walls close in, whether from courtrooms, creditors, or reality, he grabs a megaphone and a scapegoat. Canada became both. He’s desperate to muddy the waters before the Supreme Court rules, to create just enough noise that if he loses, he can claim it was “rigged.” It’s not strategy. It’s survival instinct.
The tragedy isn’t just his behaviour, it’s the normalization of it. Sitting here by the pool, I hear Americans say, “Oh, that’s just Trump being Trump,” as if pathology were personality and chaos were leadership. The indifference terrifies me more than his words. Democracy doesn’t die with a bang; it dissolves quietly in apathy.
And here’s where the poolside analogy writes itself. Canada and Mexico are like the sturdy pieces of bread, still strong, still holding together, still trying to keep the middle from spoiling. But the middle, the United States under Trumpism, has become the rancid filling. The mayonnaise has gone off. The tuna’s turned. You can smell it from both borders.
And yet we still love our neighbours. We share history, trade, and friendship. We want the sandwich saved, not thrown out. But we can’t pretend the smell isn’t there. When the U.S. turns inward, the world loses balance. When it lashes out, it wounds not just others but itself. The gilded ballroom becomes a bunker, and its golden glow turns toxic.
Back home, we’re far from perfect. But we’re led by a government that still values integrity, international cooperation, and evidence over ego. We debate fiercely, but we still believe in decency. And as John F. Kennedy told our Parliament in 1961: “What unites us is far greater than what divides us, for what geography has joined together, let no man put asunder.”
That’s still true today, even as another American demagogue tries once again to divide us.
So yes, I’ve been quiet for a while, working on something deeply Canadian, rooted in unity and respect. But this morning reminded me why voices matter. The world doesn’t need more silence in the face of absurdity. It needs clarity, compassion, and a little Canadian sarcasm.
So from the poolside in Mexico, the southern crust of this slowly spoiling sandwich, I raise my coffee to the hope that the filling gets fresh again someday. Until then, I’ll just try not to lose my appetite.
Nancy's Notes 