Up until attending my brother's wedding in Australia on this very day last year, I'd never worn a kilt, never eaten haggis in its true form and rarely partaken of Scotland's national drink, whisky.
Suffice to say, I was a poor excuse for a Scotsman and, given my track record on national traditions, I hadn't darkened the door of a Robert Burns supper -apart from being forced to do so as a Primary 7 pupil (Grade 6 student) - until I immigrated to Canada six
years ago.
Now, every year, if I'm not at a Burns supper, I have friends around at my house to mark the birth of the famous poet on Jan. 25.
Before I took the leap across the Atlantic, however, I'm sorry to say that date now comes and goes in much of the old country with little more than a tip of a cap at best from the majority of the five million population.
The apathy is nothing a national holiday (yes, Robert Burns Day is not recognized as a day off) wouldn't cure, of course, and maybe that's up the sleeve of the Scottish National Party, should it succeed in this year's big independence referendum.
Just this week, a friend of my wife from back home was bemoaning on Facebook having to listen to her sons reciting Burns poetry as part of their homework for a project on the famous bard.
Heck, the actual birthplace of Scotland's most famous person, Alloway, and a national heritage centre in his memory to match, are a mere 15 miles from my home town in Scotland.
Maybe Scots have just gotten too used to listening to Burns poetry and may be getting a little tired of the stereotype of bagpipes, tartan and haggis? Maybe my generation was "traumatized" by the aforementioned practice of being forced, on pain of death, to attend a Burns supper in our youth?
It didn't help that the main dish at a Burns supper plays to the theory that most of Scottish cuisine is based on a dare.
It is strange, however, that the rest of the world seems to celebrate the memory of a philandering taxman son of a farmer, who was blessed with an uncanny gift of the gab
with women and a latent talent with the quill.
After all, the only nonreligious figures with more statues erected around the globe than Burns are Queen Victoria and Christopher Columbus.
And the work of Burns has influenced many a great human being, such as musician Bob Dylan, U.S. president Abraham Lincoln and author John Steinbeck.
Yet many a Scot, including myself, would hesitate if asked to recall what century Burns even lived his short, but colourful, 37 years (18th century, in case you thought I didn't know).
It's said that Scots croon louder about how much they love their homeland, the further they get away from it.
But I'm glad I moved to Canada to be surrounded by people who celebrate the most famous Scot more than the Scottish.
And I'm happy I finally plucked up the courage to wear the national dress and now enjoy the odd dram on special occasions.
Haggis? That's for the tourists and the English.
