by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

My wife is studying to become a Canadian citizen. She has to take a test. I’m trying to help. But it’s hard. My mother-in-law is also becoming a citizen, but she’s over 65 and they don’t test seniors.

I don’t see the need for this quiz. Testing people in exchange for documents isn’t an enshrined Canadian custom. Except for drivers’ licenses, where they understandably want to make sure you don’t accelerate through reds.

But really, if somebody has a heart attack next to you on the metro, would it help to be able to name Canada’s first prime minister?

Four years ago, researchers discovered that a mere 17 per cent of Canadians could pass the same citizenship exam that 90 per cent of immigration applicants pass on the first go-round.

That’s embarrassing. I felt that shame first-hand when I found a list of potential questions without the accompanying list of answers, exposing my Canadian knowledge gaps that I was trying to conceal. I blame the questions. They seem vague.

“Why did the early explorers first come to Atlantic Canada?” My understanding is that they weren’t happy with where they were going in life.

“In what sorts of jobs do most Canadians work?” It depends where. In some parts of town you’ll see a lot of people stealing bicycles and selling drugs, and in wealthier parts of town they’re spending daddy’s money.

“Why is the Canadian Shield important to Canada’s economy?” I hadn’t heard the term Canadian Shield since high school, so I assume it’s important to the teaching industry, as it gives them something to discuss.

“What fish is a valuable industry on the West Coast?” Whale-watching probably. But fish are fish, not an industry. I think of them as fish.

“Which trade spread across Canada, making it important to the economy for over 300 years?” Could be anything really: horseshoes, beaver-pelts, the sex trade.

“List four rights Canadian citizens have.” There’s too many to list. For example, I believe you have the right to smack the person in front of you with a grocery divider if they’re taking too long going through their change purse at the cash.

If Quebec separates, the questions could worsen. For example: “Who was the first mayor of Drummondville and how much beaver could he bag per day?” “What brand of shoe polish did Camille Laurin rub into his hair?” “What’s Celine Dion’s dog’s name?”

I disagree with the testing. Political obliviousness is a legit philosophical option, like not locking your doors, although I once got a ticket for not locking my car door. Your right not to know much about Canada should definitely be one of your four rights.

• • •

About a month ago, I announced that you could sue if your spouse refuses you a religious divorce, but Quebec judges recently changed their minds by overturning a payment of $47,500 to Stephanie Bruker from her ex, who refused her a Jewish ghet. Bruker wanted $1.35-mil. She’s getting zilch. Bruker also recently told reporter Joel Goldenberg that she was held in Pinel Institute for the criminally insane for 90 days after making 911 calls about her mother.

It must be cool to have a good hockey name. If you’re a Perreault, Dionne, Lafleur, Robitaille, Parent or Tardif, it hints at impressive stickhandling DNA. I sought to determine the best Quebec hockey name by comparing population to NHL goals scored. I stopped when I realized that this involved math. But my conclusion is that the nine biggest Quebec clans—Tremblay, Gagnon, Roy, Côté, Bouchard, Gauthier, Morin, Lavoie and Fortin—had better spend more time on the ice.

In 1992, West Islanders put fluorescent stickers in their windshields. The sticker meant that you don’t drive at night. So if a cop saw your car on the road at night, he’d know that the car was probably stolen. I doubt that they still do that, but here’s a tip to car thieves: if you plan to steal a car at night, remember to first check for and remove any fluorescent stickers.

Comments? kgravy@openface.ca