You know you're Canadian when you ...

By Jim Withers

* know how to canoodle in a canoe (Pierre Berton said “make love,” but I prefer the alliteration);

* know that Montreal is pronounced “MUN-tree-all” in English, not “MAWN-tree-all”;

* know that Toronto is pronounced “TRAW-noh,” not TOR-on-TOE (the first O and second T are silent);

* shout “HARDER!” to your broom-wielding teammates after tossing a curling stone (while stoned or not);

* have attended a powwow;

* know there’s a scoring play in Canadian football called a rouge (not a mascara or a blush – a rouge!);

* have been stopped in your tracks by the awesome beauty of the northern lights;

* have, in your youth, gotten sloshed drinking caribou (a concoction mixing red wine with whisky blanc, with maybe a little maple syrup, brandy, sherry or vodka) from a hollow plastic cane while freezing your ass off at le Carnaval de Québec;

* have used rubber boots as goalposts while playing pond hockey;

* call that knitted hat you wear in winter a “tuque” (not a “woollen cap”);

* have been eaten alive by mosquitoes, deerflies, horseflies, blackflies, etc.;

* have been attacked by a Canada goose when you inadvertently got too close to its nest;

* refer to students as being in Grade 2, Grade 12, etc. (not “second grade,” “12th grade,” etc.);

* have driven across the Prairies, Rockies and Confederation Bridge, linking P.E.I. and New Brunswick;

* have tasted a butter tart (which is sickeningly sweet, but which was supposedly invented in Canada);

* have been beaned by a snowball;

* have as your favourite sounds those made by spring peepers, crickets and loons on a lake;

* have as your least favourite sounds that of spinning tires when you’re trying in vain to be Hercules and push your neighbour’s car out of a snowbank;

* wear a poppy on Remembrance Day;

* think 8°C in October is The Big Chill, but 8°C in March is T-shirt and shorts weather;

* are proud to be sesquilingual (speak 1½ of Canada’s 2 official languages);

* have witnessed moose, bears, whales and beaver in the wild (albeit not necessarily any whose home is decked out with a Maple Leaf flag and satellite dish like this one near Bancroft, Ont.);

* have injured your flicking finger while playing a spirited game of crokinole (kind of like curling but on a board, and said to have originated in southern Ontario’s Mennonite country around the time of Confederation);

* consider the Hockey Night in Canada theme song (”Dunt-da-dunt-da-DUNT-AH! …”) as Canada’s true national anthem; and, finally,

* consider Canada to be Uncle Sam’s saner, healthier upstairs neightbour.

Let’s keep it that way. Independent and free.

Joyeuse fête du Canada! Happy Canada Day!