If you're reading this and you didn't know Robbie Burns Day happened last Sunday I'll let you in on a secret. Nobody cares.
Nobody really gets worked up about the one day in Canada's calendar where people of Scottish heritage are supposed to get excited about something. That's mainly because it involves some obscure traditions we rarely see or understand followed by a reading of poetry.
While I'm partial to a good sonnet, the popularity of poetry has been somewhat diminished in the time since Burns was taking quill to inkwell. It seems a poor tribute to one of Canada's founding ethnic groups.
As you've probably already guessed, my forebearers made the long voyage across the wee pond to Canada from Argyleshire, Scotland back in 1853, or more than a half century after Robbie Burns was in the ground.
In fact, as farfetched as the film Titanic may seem, my great-great-great grandpappy met his future wife on the ship. And we're all thankful for that.
An interesting aside - my grandfather's father, Alexander McNair, suddenly decided at midlife to add an "a" to his surname to more properly separate his Protestant faith from the Catholics in his community.
My grandfather's siblings were somewhat annoyed that the elder half were born "Mc" and the youngsters were "Mac."
Macs have made an indelible impression upon the historical landscape of Canada. In fact, our first prime minister, Sir John A. Macdonald, was born in Scotland in 1815 and moved to the colony as a boy.
Indeed, Scots contributed to more than half of Canada's founding Fathers of Confederation, including 13 of our 22 prime ministers.
Beginning in the 18th century and continuing for the next 200 years, the Scots migrated to Canada and became its backbone in farming, business and politics.
As Roy Macskimming notes in his review of the non-fiction book How the Scots Invented Canada, their influence is so pervasive it's invisible.
And although the stereotypical image of a fiery-haired warrior screaming barely intelligible insults on an English battlefield may be due to Mel Gibson, only a people as gregarious and durable as the Scots could find a place as miserably cold as Canada and call her a bonnie lass.
Scottish immigrants have had a great deal of influence on Canada's development into a nation, and the number of Canadians who today identify as having Scottish descent exceeds 4.7 million, or 15.1 per cent of the nation's population.
Ontario, where my family settled, has 2.1 million Canadians of Scottish heritage, nearly the population for all of Metro Vancouver.
The number of Irish Canadians, by comparison, is nearly equal, with 4.3 million people identifying as having full or partial Irish heritage in the 2006 census.
The reason I bring up the Irish is that if there's one ethnicity that screams party, it's the drink-until-you-drop, liver-damaging St. Patrick's Day in March. You don't need to be Irish to fall in love with Ireland on St. Paddy's Day. All you need is a group of friends, a list of Irish pubs and a green t-shirt.
Being Irish is fun and cool. And finding romance is as easy as wearing a t-shirt reading "Kiss me, I'm Irish."
Needless to say, the Scots do not have the same luck with the ladies on Robbie Burns Day. "Kiss me, I've just finished banqueting on sheep intestines" just does not have the same ring to it.
Other cultures seem to know how to celebrate. The Germans have Oktoberfest, the Punjabis get Vaisakhi and the Chinese bring in the Lunar New Year.
We know we'll never be as hip as the Irish but there's more to the culture than bagpipes and kilts. Let's throw a party and find out.
Adrian MacNair is a staff reporter with the Now. He can be reached at amacnair@thenownewspaper.com.