Hey Bryan Adams, I’m Cuhnnadian too.

I lived and worked in London for about six years at a consumer PR agency working for Audi, Levi’s, Umbro, Smirnoff, etc. Suffice to say, my days there were fairly star-studded and full of consumer PR foofiness. Lunch with Tom Cruise, drinks with Uma Thurman, a visit to Jeremy Irons’s house…all very enjoyable (we;; except for lunch with Tom Cruise).

A friend of mine, Phillip, worked for Tim Jeffries, widely known in England as the Green Shield stamps heir, at his art gallery. Tim was dating super model Elle MacPherson at the time and so Philip and I got invited to the opening of the Fashion Cafe in Leicester Square. Elle, Namoi and Cindy had invited celebs a-go-go so Philip and I were the token plebs at the event.

To get into the event, you had to walk an elevated catwalk with the paparazzi flashing away. Flashing away when you’re actually someone that is. Luckily at the time I was regularly mistaken for a famous football player so I at least got a few tentative flashes.

Long story short, vodka was flowing and Philip and I were drinking. We thought about going into the VVVIP lounge but the stairs up there were packed with stars. Luckily Tim came out at the right time, saw us, and invited us to cut in front of rock stars, celebrity athletes and TV personalities. I ended up standing in a circle of people that included Naomi Campbell, Noel and Liam Gallagher, Canadian singer Brian Adams and a couple of other folks.

Conversation was rolling along and I was swaying, trying my best to stay upright. At one point, my somewhat pickled brain made a very important connection and I suddenly looked at Brian and blurted out, “Y’KNOW…I’M…I’M CUHNNADIAN TOO.”


Conversation screeched to a halt, glances were exchanged and I excused myself, ostensibly to go to the bathroom. I left the event (on the catwalk – flash…flash-flash, uh what?), threw up on the underground train home, set the alarm off letting myself into the place I was house sitting at the time, had to convince the police I was actually supposed to be in the house and then missed what was to be the final interview for a new job I had been pursuing. I may have literally crapped my pants too.

Oh Canada…


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