I’ve expressed my fear of the Olympics before. I’ve despaired about mass chaos, a plague of international douchery and an overall loss of joy. I’m proud to say now, a few days into my Olympic sizd hangover, that my fears were unfounded.

During a certain five ringed seventeen day event that happened here in Vancouver, the city did us proud. It has shown that art, culture, the ability to have fun and the ability to not take ones self too serious are truly Canadian traits. Vancouver might just be a fun city after all!

Both our opening and closing ceremonies showing that art and culture truly do matter here despite what funding cuts may have to say. From slam poets to the majesty of Canada’s first lesbian cow-punk poet singing Leonard Cohen, we made a decisive statement that we are cool.

From shindig’s in Ion Magazine’s pop-up shop in the Downtown Eastside, to large scale events with Girl Talk and Deadmau5 in the heart of Yaletown, Vancouver showed itself to be ready to get down.

The normal placid yuppie havens of Yaletown were awash in red, white and maple leaf. The staunch yoga wearing mavens of Kitsilano decided forgo their Lululemon and small dogs to tie a flag around their neck. Even the notorious hipsters of Main Street could be seen rocking Team Canada hockey jerseys over top of skinny jeans and asymmetrical haircuts.

Yes, there were issues, nobody’s denying death, totemic erectile disfunction and anarchy didn’t occur, but for these shining days, Vancouver did something it doesn’t do very often publicly. It reminded itself it was pretty damn cool