I can think of two possible explanations:
1. Razor is more charming than I have previously realized and should go into international relations.
2. Canadians have something like a cultural battered-wife syndrome with Americans that keeps them earnestly explaining things to drunken Yanks and ignoring the condescension that they get in return, including cracks about their military, jokes about the worthless specie ("How much is that in real money?" went the refrain), and giggles about their shameful musical exports ("We send you the crap," said one Canadian fellow).
To all our Canadian readers (and we must have, golly, three or so?), it was a delightful visit. It had been years since my last visit to Frostback territory, and I am even more convinced of its charms.
Now, about this idea of paying $11.00 for cigarettes . . .