This time, we’re over in World War I. This one soldier is friends with a bear and, since it wasn’t until World War II that people realized it would be awesome to have bears on your team, so the soldier had to give the bear, named Winnie after Winnipeg, to a zoo.

And so, ten years later, after all the bears friends have been horribly killed in trench warfare, we come across a man (Double-A Milne) who has brought his son and his illustrator to that same zoo. Young Christopher Robin likes the bear so much that Milne says he’ll write some books about it (though the fact he already had Mr. Shepard drawing the thing suggests that he was going to do that anyway, so Christopher Robin’s opinion means jack). The young lad suggests that they call the bear “Winnie-the-Pooh” but when pressed for answers, even he doesn’t know why. Literally nobody in this commercial can explain the bear’s name, but it remains the bear’s name. It is a fact embedded into the fabric of reality since time immemorial. This can only be the mysterious will of the Unknowable Beings Who Maintain Reality, they being the only ones who could be fomenting this fanciful idea, this sacred name, to grow in this young boy’s soul, hatching it into the world according to their plan. Why would they do this? I don’t know. Just Winnie-the-Pooh.

Anyway, this is another attempt to tie Canada into the creation of an enduring pop culture icon. I suspect that there is more validity here than in the Superman one, because the only claim Canada is making is that the bear is named after Winnipeg, instead of having Mr. Shepard in Canada showing his sketches to his cousin Piglet five years before the character was really created (again, that’s a reference to the Superman one). Still, as Heritage Moments go, I have to give the Superman one the higher esteem, with its fast-talking Joe Shuster easily trumping strange little Christopher Robin. Apart from that, we’ve got a decent musical score, we’ve got a little bit of quotable material. I feel I can confidently give this Heritage Moment Five out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake.

Okay, this time we have some people voting in the Frenchlands. Some guy rolls up with his crew and they want to vote. That’s when the trouble starts. Later, the trouble is over, so the guy goes to Englshton, and everyone is quite impressed by the idea of a Frenchman running for office in a place where everyone thinks he talks funny. C’est la vie!

Here’s something: Apart from a tingle of familiarity over the last couple lines, I don’t recall this one from the indoctrination during my youth. Is it a newer one? The quality doesn’t seem to suggest that. Did they just not play it as much as the others? Well, it does have an awful lot of French, maybe it played more prominently in the Frenchy parts of Canada than it did here. I don’t know.

I don’t get much information from this one. Apart from being called a “lousy rebel” I don’t know the cause of the strife. I appreciate the callback to the Responsible Government Moment, and I like to commend anyone who doesn’t resort to violence to make his political point, but I just don’t get much from this spot. I give it Two out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake.

It’s Dan Ackroyd!!! Today’s Heritage Moment is an encapsulation of the story of the Avro Arrow. That was an impressive jet plane that Canada built this one time and then didn’t build.

According to research I did a decade ago and don’t feel like re-checking, this Heritage Moment is pieced together using clips from some movie about the Avro Arrow, which explains how they got Ackroyd in there. I’m all for recycling, so I approve of their repurposing of the clips. Plus, it has the benefit of making the filmmakers aware of the fact that they probably spent two hours to tell a story that can be told in a minute.

As a side note, my most significant Avro Arrow-related memory is the time, during high school, when a fellow student angrily insisted that the program being shut down was the turning point when Canada could otherwise have been the world’s military leader. I have never cared as much as he did about Canada’s military prowess, that’s for sure.

Time to rate it: It’s certainly one of the great quotable Minutes, that’s for sure. And it’s arc is pretty sad, really: “We want to make a plane, but it is hard to do. Then we made the plane! We’re awesome. (Later we didn’t make the plane.)” This is hardly the stuff out of legend. But it has Dan Ackroyd in it. Four out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake.

Étienne Parent is this guy who wrote that French and English could probably get along without armed conflict. Nobody wanted to hear that, so he got put in prison. That did not stop his writing, though. Here we see him smuggling editorials out of his cell under a pie while a guard fails to catch them.

This guard is apparently concerned enough about Parent’s writing that he’s willing to ruin a pie, but he isn’t bothering to check the guy’s pockets, or even to look into the cell to see if Parent is writing. I don’t consider this guard exceptionally good at his job.

Why is the pie going out of the cell? Certainly Parent is not baking pies and sending them out into the world. Is he just being given pies and straight-up not eating them? Dude deserves to be in jail. Three out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake. There’s nothing to be quoted and the pie desecration is the only truly memorable bit.

We join Emily Murphy mid-conversation apparently. She is reminiscing about her early days when she was to be Senator, but under Canadian law, women weren’t people. Uh oh! Anyway, later they fixed that.

The primary problem with this Heritage Moment is how little there is to it. Emily Murphy just remembers this time when there was a problem, then reminds us that it was fixed. There’s no sense of the struggle. We don’t get to see Murphy struggling with the problem like we do the early women in medicine. We don’t get to see her petitioning the “noble lords of the privy council” or whatever. All we get is a gentle reminiscing and we’re done. There’s no style to the soliloquy like John Matheson’s.

“I was not a person” has a bit of quotability, but it isn’t enough. I would be lying if I gave this Moment anything more than Two out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake. Having seen how much can be crammed into a minute, this little lesson in Canadiana simply does not make the most of its time.