Balls!
by Mike Johnston


Playing tennis has me thinking NAFTA. I recently chauffeured dad through mid-western America to his time-share. In Missouri I realized I forgot to pack balls with my racquet. I went to the Walmart in Branson, and found how lop-sided trade can be. Even factoring the currency exchange rate, Americans can purchase roughly 3 tennis balls for the price of one in Canada.

 

Canadians now have the option of buying a 4-pack can, a retarded option in my opinion. I can get away with using the word retarded here, because no doubt with a 4-pack you’ll lose one ball. Then you’d be stuck with a jiggling tube of 3 loose balls, the number meant for playing tennis. I believe 4-packs exist only as a measure born from stiffing Canadians. I didn’t see this arrested development in the US. By the way, it only improves the ball gap ratio to 2 to 1.

 

NAFTA is a load of you know what. It’s an agreement filled with details unknown to rank-and-file members of society. Tennis balls are just today’s example. Think of it, we pay three times as much for something that both nations engage in just for kicks. What’s more, I noticed the quality of the balls I bought in Branson are like nothing I’ve seen here. The can I opened at Branson’s public courts still has lots of life a month later. First can I bought here this year lasted a set and a half.

 


©2018 Michael Johnston,

Peterborough

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