by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

Imagine being Jean Charest, stroking the pleats on your toga while practicing your regal thumbs-up-thumbs-down. Megabuck superhospitals, the opera house, highways, giant library, corporate welfare handouts, the metro to Laval - billions in contracts that he can ixnay on a whim, or at least delay long enough to ensure he eventually gets the credit for 'em.

With a stroke of his pen Charest could smash hopes or fulfill dreams, make lobbyists weep or squeal joyously. He could remake the culture of this province: demergers, language cops, whatever, it's his call.

That's because on voting day, Charest stood eight feet tall. He was the George Foreman Grill while Landry was the Davey Hilton Toaster Oven. And that day counts for up to five years. "Too late to change your mind, polls are now closed," he tellingly quipped after stumbling over a line in his victory speech.

Unlike on a dating line, our leapfrogging citizenry weren't invited to "press one for intimate encounters," and two for "long-term relationships." Like him or not, we've got Charest for a while.

So who is Charest, and what's cooking inside that curly-haired noggin, other than a biblical obsession to shorten our waits in the emergency room?

"After working for two years on a book about him, I practically learned nothing that people wouldn't know from reading the newspaper," says Charest's biographer André Pratte, who's also chief editorialist at La Presse. "He's remains a mysterious personality. That's why I called my book L'Énigme Charest."

Being a Westmount anglo born and raised, I think I've got a hunch about this Charest guy. Is it possible that Quebecers, known for their fervent national pride, have unwittingly elected a new premier that is, deep down... um… how can I say this delicately… um… you know… a Westmount anglo?

Pratte sounds annoyed. "Charest's not an anglophone. He's a bilingual francophone, from Sherbrooke." Suggesting that Charest might share my background is automatically assumed to be an insult. "Landry tried to raise the issue of him living in Westmount during the campaign, but it fell flat," says Pratte.

The Charest-is-a-francophone camp point out that he studied in French, married a francophone, sends his kids to school in French and speaks French while chowing down.

Yet an anglo mother named Rita and a francophone nicknamed "Red" brought Charest into this world and named him John. He joined the federal Conservatives, the party of the old-money anglo elite, and hangs around Sherbrooke, not his hometown but the anglo-dominated Westmount strip. He supports demergers, the holy grail of hardcore anti-separatist anglos who ruminate on separating in turn from a separate Quebec, and refuses to use the knife-to-Ottawa's-throat strategy. Charest speaks healthy doses of English in the National Assembly and even miffed some media by talking anglo to the French PM. On TV, he once claimed not to know the words to "Gens du pays" and he even ignored the recent Patriot's Day.

Societé St-Jean Baptiste prez Jean Dorion tried to explain the difference between our new Patriot's Day and the traditional June provincial holiday. "Patriot's Day is a bit more political, there are more interpretations," he says. "It's in favour of democracy and for people who want Quebec to be its own country."

I predict Charest will axe that dog pretty fast.

Unlike the Charest-o-philes, the nationalistic Dorion sees nothing wrong in our Premier being a Westmount anglophone. "It's not a bad thing to be English from Westmount," he says.

But pundit John Parisella, known to be friendly with Charest, anxiously denies that we've got ourselves a real live member of the detested elite running Quebec.

"Westmount anglo? I think the place of residence of a premier is as private and personal as any aspect of his life," says Parisella, who notes that so far, "Charest as premier is fitting into the suit like it was tailor-made for him."

A Westmount anglo running Quebec. Hey, weirder things have happened. On second thought, no. This is definitely the weirdest thing that has ever happened.

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