Why The Sun Never Sets On The British Columbia Empire

THE TRAFFIC JAMS you see at the Canadian border are no surprise. British Columbia truly is a shopper's paradise. This is not only the place to go for a great deal on a time-share condo at Whistler Mountain (thanks to the exchange rate, $200,000 Canadian equals about $9.75 U.S.), but also home to some unique products that could only come from a country so far north that South Dakota looks good in the winter.

Here are a couple of things we smuggled back across the border.

-- A bag of "Old Dutch Salt 'n Simulated Vinegar Flavoured Potato Chips." And you thought real vinegar was great. Wait until you try the simulated kind.

-- A bag of coffee from "Fungbucks" on East Hastings Street in Burnaby. The best souvenir from here is the business card of owner/operator Johnny Fung, which had on the back the names and numbers of his attorneys. Expecting a call from another coffee company?

The key to a long career

ON THE ROAD to Port Townsend is Hadlock Padlock, which wins our prize for having the best name of any business on that stretch of road. (Competition includes Sunshine Propane, Larry's Welding and something called Signs.)

Glen Robertson, 77, the dean of locksmiths on the Olympic Peninsula, said he has no plans to retire from his small shop, which resembles a cluttered shrine to keys and locks. "I'll keep going until I drop dead." That's because he said he gets a pension of only $9.09 a month from his earlier career as a teacher. Maybe he should move to Canada. He could almost buy a condo at Whistler on that.

Never too late to buy your way onto the team

IF YOU WERE TOO SMART to be a dumb jock and earn a varsity letter in high school, it's not too late. Thanks to recent changes in federal law (SB 1972 - The David Letterman's Jacket Act), anyone can now buy and wear a letter and matching jacket.

We recently picked up ours at historic Athletic Supply ("Where the smart dumb jock has been shopping since 1932"). Kathy Langston, who coached at Sammamish High School for 30 years before taking a job at Athletic Supply, said times sure have changed. Back then, "You couldn't just order a jacket without a letter. They made kids bring in a letter certificate."

Now all you need is check or credit card with at least a $200 limit. The all-wool jacket costs $165 (the sweater is $124) and a varsity letter runs about $15. The gold bars that indicate the number of years lettered and the symbols that indicate the sport are $2.25 apiece. Have your first name stitched on the front for $12.50 and your last name on the back for $25 and you're ready for the prom.

Name your school, name your sport and you're in. Nobody will question you. They're too busy. As Linda Jackson at Emblems & More in Auburn said when we asked about the jacket-adorning business: "Gotta go. Got a customer."

One honest man

NEVILLE HINES is a legendary athlete. Not because he set any records as a student at Franklin High in the 1940s. The Bothell resident, 74, is best known for being the oldest person to order a letterman's sweater from Athletic Supply. But even though he could have also bought a letter, he didn't, unlike some phonies we know. "I turned out for football for three days and somebody swiped my football shoes. That ended my career. It probably was for the best. I was only 127 pounds."

Bill Kossen is a writer for The Seattle Times. You may e-mail this page at pacificnw@seattletimes.com, or write P.O. Box 70, Seattle, WA 98111. Planet Northwest response line: 206-464-3337.