Deachman: What's the most Canadian thing you own?

Barry Padolsky models a top hat once owned and worn by former governor general Vincent Massey. Photo by Bruce Deachman /Postmedia

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What’s the most Canadian thing you own?

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That, I decided a few days ago, would be my Canada Day assignment: to ask Ottawans about their most Canadian possession.

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Before heading out, though, I looked around my own apartment.

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The stuffed ptarmigan, frozen in time in its winter-white finery? Maybe, although taxidermy is understandably out of fashion.

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The six-foot image of the Peace Tower that once adorned the exterior of the Ottawa Citizen building on Baxter Road? Possibly, though then I’d have to answer questions about how it ended up in my apartment.

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Or perhaps my 35-inch Canadian Tire windshield scraper — actually made in Canada, according to the label, albeit with “domestic and imported parts.” It’s kind of crappy and I have to replace it all the time, but I wouldn’t get through a Canadian winter without one.

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Yes, definitely the scraper.

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Nothing I own, though, rivals the (literally) over-the-top bit of Canadiana that my friend Barry Padolsky offered when I put the question to him.

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Barry owns a top hat that once belonged to — and was worn by — former governor general Vincent Massey, along with the hat’s handsome travel case.

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Barry inherited them from Massey’s son, Hart, when he died in 1997. Hart was an architect whom Barry worked for in the 1960s, and the gift stemmed from an old inside joke. Years earlier, while Barry was working on a Canadian government exhibition, a young researcher naively phoned the Governor General’s office and asked to speak with Georges Vanier, who at the time held the position. She hoped to borrow one of his hats for an exhibit. She was promptly rebuffed.

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Barry later told the story in Hart Massey’s office, where it became a favourite anecdote. Decades later, when Hart died, Barry received the hat with the message: “Now you can get your Governor General’s hat.”

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Barry says the hat belongs in the Canadian Museum of History. “I’m going to eventually donate it.”

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So what about my other fellow Ottawans? What gems of Canadiana — likely falling somewhere between a sovereign representative’s top hat and an ice scraper found in a bin at the end of Aisle 7 — might they be harbouring in their homes?

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The most Canadian object that Ryan Ait Mamar owns is a device that when spun makes a loon call. Photo by Bruce Deachman /Postmedia

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In Parkwood Hills, Ryan Ait Mamar chose a noisemaker/musical instrument that he picked up in a Canadian tourist shop. Made of two handles, a rope and a disc, it imitates the haunting call of a loon when you spin it right. He isn’t a musician; he simply likes that it’s quirky and celebrates what he calls “probably the most Canadian bird we have.”

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Former Ottawa Fire Services captain “Captain” Kirk Reid with his most Canadian object — his fire hat with a metal beaver on it. Photo by Bruce Deachman /Poistmedia

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Near Crystal Beach, retired Ottawa Fire Department captain “Captain” Kirk Reid chose the helmet he wore during his 32-year career. The surprise isn’t the helmet itself, but the small metal beaver that fastens the front crest in place — with its front teeth, no less. The manufacturer, Reid said, chose the beaver simply because it’s one of Canada’s enduring symbols.

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The most Canadian object that Teresa Barrosso owns – the top of a 200-year-old B.C. Spruce with a large burl attached – is also her favourite possession. Photo by Bruce Deachman /Postmedia

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Teresa Barrosso’s most Canadian possession, which sits in her Vanier living room, is also, hands down, her favourite possession. It’s a burl-covered top of a 200-foot B.C. spruce that was felled on the 40-acre hobby farm in Hudson’s Hope, in northern B.C., where she and her family once rehabilitated injured wildlife. When she saw the burl, she fell in love with it, refusing to leave it behind: “I was, like, ‘This is coming with me!’” she said.