Expo 67

One uncharacteristically cold Vancouver Island morning, I finally enquired as to the origin of my mother’s unique keychain as it dangled from the ignition of our car. She angled it toward me so I could make out the words “My Expo Sweetheart” from its scratched and tarnished metallic lettering. She, in detail, explained how this small ornament, which shared a likeness to that of a miniature hubcap, was in fact a keepsake from a world fair she had attended many years ago. As a child engrossed with world affairs, I had heard of Expo 67 in passing, though I was not yet privy to its significance in shaping the Canada in which I lived. It was only after my questioning of that unique trinket when my interest surged around all things ‘Expo’. When I left my mother’s car that morning to join my regular pre-bell schoolyard conversations, I could do nothing else but imagine the descriptions of “a constant party in the streets” and “the best of everything from each world”.