Author Archives: Jay Menard

It’s a Nice Day for a Green Wedding

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By Jason Menard

The time is fast approaching when a white wedding will be a thing of the past – replaced by the dominant colour green. The days of the wedding gift seem to be fading rapidly into memory, as the traditional lavishly decorated box is fast being replaced by a non-descript envelope.

Perhaps it’s a case of people now getting married later in life, when they’ve already established a home and don’t need new household goods, but I find it a little sad when the closest thing to intimacy that a modern wedding gift imparts is its signature.

It’s sad that weddings have now become slaves to functionality and practicality. Heck, if marriage ceremonies were truly committed to being practical, the expense of a lavish church wedding would be banked in lieu of a cheaper, civil service. A wedding is a celebration of love and a new life together, but today’s wedding gifts seem less about an expression from the heart and more about balancing a ledger.

How many people have heard the familiar refrain that a wedding gift should cover the cost of the meal? Does it not cheapen the intention of the gift when it becomes a barterable commodity as opposed to a token of affection?

My wife and I differ on the subject, in that she’s nowhere near as perturbed by the trend. At our wedding, she was fine with either option, whereas I was much more interested in the gifts because they offered me more than just another household appliance or decoration – they gave me a tangible remembrance of my wedding celebration and the person from whom the gift came.

Money simply goes into an anonymous pile. And whether it’s used to defer the cost of a wedding, purchase something for the home, or saved to help start a new life together, it eventually gets lost in the shuffle and the unique nature of the gift is gone. However, an actual gift can stay in a family for years.

We still have the coffee maker given to us at our wedding, and I consider that one of the best gifts we got. Simply put, the person who gave us the gift was known for her coffee consumption – and by giving that gift to us, we continue to be able to smile at how perfectly a gift matches the giver. No matter how pretty the picture, a cheque just doesn’t have that same cachet – and, eventually, the only one who sees it is the bank.

To gauge the importance of a gift, let’s look at what the married couple gives to their guests. I’ve yet to go to a wedding where the newlyweds forked over a few bucks to each attendee – instead, they offer special mementoes and keepsakes to help you remember the day. Although I never wear it, I still have a pocket watch given to me at a wedding in which I was a groomsman, and when I stumble across it, the memories of that event come rushing back.

Admittedly, the issue isn’t so black and white today. People are getting married later in life. Many people have been living on their own or in relationships wherein they’ve already accumulated a significant portion of their home decorations. A few already have purchased a home by the time they tie the knot, so there may not be an apparent need for a wedding gift.

But that’s the beauty of the process. It’s challenging to find the right gift for the right person, but when you do it’s a magical moment. Our young kids have it right – without a full comprehension of what money means, a piece of paper signifies nothing, but a well-thought-out gift brings a smile to their faces that warms the heart.

Call me a romantic at heart, but I really don’t feel a wedding should be about a net balance. My wife and I were lucky in that we received financial support from both sides of our family – and we made sure that our wedding plans were, by no means, extravagant. As such, even if we received no gifts whatsoever, I would have been happy because my wedding was a celebration of my love for my wife in front of our friends and family – not a way to pocket some extra cash.

Our guests’ presence was gift enough and anything we received on top of that was gravy. While I can still look around my home at the odd gift we received during that time, it’s sad to say that I no longer have any memory of the money I received. Understand, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and I appreciate each and every gift we received whether it came in an envelope or in a box. I just worry that we’re going too far away from sentimentality.

It’s ironic, in giving cash on a wedding day, we’re bankrupting a significant source of the couple’s happy memories for the future.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Oh Canada – So Many Reasons to Celebrate

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By Jason Menard

Break out the flags, line up the fireworks, cue up Anne Murray – Canada Day is almost upon us and it’s time to celebrate. But, for many of us, the question is what exactly are we celebrating?

Canada Day is a day when we’re supposed to celebrate what it means to be Canadians (well, most of us will be. July 1 also happens to be “Moving Day” in Quebec, so thousands of Quebecers will eventually be celebrating – but first they have to set up their living room). But if you ask 100 people what it means to be Canadian, chances are you’ll get 100 different answers.

However, the one common thread that you’ll hear when asked what it means to be a Canadian is the refrain, “Well, we’re not American.” As if playing the game of negative association is definition enough. But instead of disregarding that statement completely, maybe juxtaposing ourselves with our neighbours south of the 49 th parallel isn’t such a bad exercise.

The most noticeable difference is that, while it’s somewhat more clear what it means to be an American, we’ve accepted that there is simply no one suitable definition of who or what a Canadian is. The U.S. is fond of using the melting pot analogy. No matter where you’re from, you’re mixed into the Great American Melting Pot and the resulting soup is whole-heartedly American. As Canadians, we’ve found that homogenous soup a little watery for our tastes – and we prefer to savour all the meats of our cultural stew.

Instead of working in the kitchen over the melting pot, we’ve chosen to sit in the living room weaving our cultural mosaic. People coming to Canada are, for the most part, encouraged to retain their cultural identity and add it to our national fabric. And while our commitment to diversity has resulted in a few frayed edges from time to time (Quebec and Western separatists spring to mind), we’ve understood that a patchwork quilt made up of many different threads, in the long run, is much stronger than one woven from the same fabric.

We are thinkers, not doers. Instead of knee-jerk reactions, we prefer pensive reflection. While our friends to the south are often swayed by passion to act, we find ourselves willing to let the first flames of passion subside to allow for a more controlled burn. The people of Canada refuse to let emotion drive their actions. Case in point, while we may be angered by the revelations that have come out of the sponsorship scandal, we have chosen to take a wait-and-see approach to the eventual results. The day of reckoning or absolution will eventually come and we have chosen to let nature take its course.

But we’re more than just the sum of our opposites. We are a nation that’s trying to do our best – even if we stumble along the way. And even our negatives turn into positives.

As a nation, we’re subject to a huge inferiority complex. Living next to a country 10 times your size will do that to you. Because of this, we have a deep-seeded need to be liked, and that has resulted in our desire to be a player on the international stage. And while we may not have the wherewithal to take a starring role, we relish the opportunity to be the facilitator and mediator of the story. Our historical role as moderators and peace-keepers is well-earned, and our consternation over our recent devaluation in this role in the eyes of the world spurs us to redouble our efforts.

We are a nation not given to extremism. In the long run, we govern ourselves with compassion and moderation. We choose not to get caught up in hyperbole and prefer to ground ourselves in humanity. Our national commitment to social programs, universal health care, and equal rights reflects that. And while certain issues may spark intense debate – and the gay marriage legislation is a prime example – in the end we choose the humane decision.

And, just as importantly, we have a sense of humour about ourselves. We’re so much more than the toque-wearing, eh-saying, uber-polite, hockey-watching hosers that we’re often portrayed as, but we have the ability to go along with the joke and play it up for our own benefit. We’re so confident in who we are intrinsically that we’re able to laugh at ourselves.

In the end, Canadians are defined not by the perceived cold of our climate, but rather the tangible warmth of our hearts. And that’s truly something to celebrate.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

What the Cult of Celebrity Has to Offer

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By Jason Menard

When “a friend” comes out of the woodwork to make a startling revelation about a now-deceased celebrity it always takes me back to my early journalism days when I learned that you can’t libel a dead person.

So, in the spirit of the article appearing in England’s Sun newspaper, where “a friend” and alternative psychotherapist (the former qualifier definitely needs the quotes, the second is just begging for them – but I’ll resist) alleged that the late Princess Diana and the late John F. Kennedy Jr. had an affair, I’d like to make the following confessions.

I spent one memorable night in a New York hotel with Rita Hayworth, Marilyn Monroe, and Jayne Mansfield. Mr. Rogers and I did lines off the Trolley. And one night, on a Las Vegas bender, Elvis and I engaged in the love that dares not speak its name.

Finally, Britney Spears’ and I had an affair and it is I who is actually the father of her unborn child. No wait – she’s not dead, just her career is –I’ll retract that statement right away!

I offer these statements up because, as a society, we have more than just a passing fancy for this type of fare. Like a kid at a dessert buffet, we’re willing to gorge ourselves on this buffet of lies, rumours, and innuendo – temporarily sating our sweet tooth. But, as anyone on a diet knows, sugary fare only satisfies these cravings temporarily, and soon we’re ravenous for more!

And a fix is never more than a few minutes away. Scanning the racks of the grocery stores and pharmacies, we’re inundated with dozens of magazines blasting out the latest gossip about Lindsey Lohan, Jessica Simpson, and Michael Jackson! Tabloids ranging from the sycophantic (People) to the outrageous (Weekly World News) dominate the magazine aisle, while weightier fare is doomed to collecting dust in the back of the racks.

Of course, if reading celebrity gossip is not enough to sate your hunger, there is always the option of flicking through the channels. Shows like Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood, and their copycat brethren proudly boast of exclusive reports, breaking news, and inside information on the latest celebrity foibles. But investigative journalism at its finest this is not! These tabloids ensure that they never cross the line and bite the hand that feeds them – the Hollywood publicity machine.

Forget the Food Network – the best chefs in the world are celebrities and their spin doctors. They know that we have this insatiable sweet tooth for gossip, and they’re working diligently to serve up the fare that we’re happy to greedily gobble up. They may feign consternation about the attention they receive, but the truth of the matter is that they’re fanning the flames, because in today’s market you have to burn brightly.

They’ve learned the game – which is appropriate, because they made up the rules.

Whereas once the media worked with Hollywood to keep private and professional lives separate, now the paradigm has shifted to the point where the product is secondary to the person.

Jessica Simpson, Lindsey Lohan, and the aforementioned Ms. Spears are known more for their personal lives (both real and fabricated) than they are for their supposed talents. The tabloids – and the tabloid-hungry public – are less interested in the next album or movie, and more interested in the next scandal. It is now enough to be famous just for being famous (Ms. Hilton, your 15 minutes are rapidly running out).

And we’re buying it up. We talk about these people like we’re intimates, “Did you hear about Brad and Angelina, poor Jen…” We profess to have insight on people’s motives, “Oh, that Tom – it’s all promotional. He’s got a new movie, you know – and that Scientology…”

Yet, in the end, we’re starving ourselves as a society even as we gorge ourselves at this trough of fame. And why? The answer may be because the heartier fare is too hard for us to digest.

We live in a big, scary world, the problems of which are hard for us to comprehend – much less feel like we can do anything about. We live in times where we feel like the world around us is beyond our control, so we turn to the things which we feel we can own.

The fact is we know nothing of these celebrities, other than what they choose to show us. For the most part, these people are blank canvases, willing to take on whatever role is called for. And, as a blank canvas, they enable us to create our own image of them. And we can take comfort in the fact that we know the truth of these people – that we have inside knowledge and insight into a world in which we don’t inhabit.

And once our canvases have too much paint on them, we toss them aside and look for the next up-and-coming empty vessel in which we can pour our opinions, thoughts, and ideas. The Cult of Celebrity promises comfort. It offers us a world which we can shape and mould to our own ideals. It allows us to stand in judgment over others and to feel a part of a world in which we are the primary audience.

The real world doesn’t offer us that luxury. We’re, generally, small cogs in a wheel that continues spinning, indifferent to our existence. The depth and scope of the world is such that we feel removed from its machinations.

The celebrity machine, however, needs us just as much as we need it – and that’s where we draw comfort. A world that we can control and comprehend is only a page away.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

NHL Fans – Once Bitten, Twice Shy

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By Jason Menard

We’re officially now into summer. Do you know where your NHLers are? And, more importantly, do you care?

I know I don’t and that should concern the National Hockey League’s powers-that-be, because I’m exactly the type of person that they thought they’d never lose. But after a year without NHL hockey, I’ve discovered that I can more than comfortably live without it.

It’s a tragic story of lost love. In my youth, I’d faithfully watch the Montreal Canadiens whenever they were on T.V. I’d play organized hockey on the weekends and road hockey with my friends at every available opportunity. Regardless of whether I was on ice or on asphalt, I’d get swept away in my fantasy – my pre-teen bowl cut magically flowing majestically behind me like my idol Guy Lafleur as I broke down the wing.

And, as I got older and my sticks and skates went into hibernation, I’d still huddle by the radio to catch the nightly Habs’ broadcasts on CBC-French, rejoicing in unexpected Stanley Cups in 1985 and 1993, and suffering through the lows that followed. Moving back to Montreal, I rejoiced in the round-the-clock coverage that was available to me in both English and French-Language papers and radio!

As my son grew, he started to get involved in hockey as well. We own our matching Canadiens jerseys and I enjoyed teaching him the rules of the game, its history, and sharing those moments with him. Heck, my daughter would sit next to us saying “Go Habs Go,” almost from the time she started talking. Sure, at the time she thought every sport was hockey, but that’s beside the point.

But, when the lockout took that away, did we miss it? Not really. My son, who was a blossoming hockey fan, turned his interest towards other, more accessible sports, like basketball. And if we needed our hockey fix, we now were fortunate to have the London Knights close at hand.

Hockey just faded into the background. An inability to empathize with either side of the labour dispute simply left me apathetic towards the entire proceedings. And with that apathy came disillusionment. And, as a result of that disillusionment, years of goodwill and history were washed away.

Which leaves us back at square one. Like a lover scorned, I – and other fans like me – have that once-bitten-twice-shy mentality. Reports of potential settlements or progress in negotiations are greeted with nothing more than yawns or rolling eyes. The Canadian fan – once thought to be unflappable in its infatuation with the game – is now waiting to be wooed back to the game.

Essentially, our game broke up with us and, eventually, will want to get back together. But the question remains whether we will embrace it upon its return, or simply welcome it back, but remain stand-offish, not willing to commit that much of ourselves to a game again.

We’ve also found other suitors, more willing to consider our needs. In our parents’ and grandparents’ generations, sports – and specifically hockey – were culture-defining phenomena. They provided a shared experience that brought communities and cultures together. People with no common background or history could instantly strike up a conversation based on Gordie Howe’s exploits or Maurice Richard’s on-ice passion. Televised competition wasn’t as great as it is today and sport was an ingrained component of our lives.

Today we have more to distract us. We have more choice on TV – to the point where there’s probably a specialty channel that caters to your particular interest. We have the Internet, which can bring us to the farthest reaches of the Earth with just the click of a mouse. And we have more sports than ever starving for our entertainment dollar, and willing to do whatever it takes to get it.

Most importantly, we have grown to expect more from our entertainment suitors. Knowing that something else is just the click of a remote away, we’re more demanding of our entertainment providers. Shows that take extended hiatuses have difficulty retaining their audiences and fans grumble when too many repeats are shown in a row. Like any relationship, we expect regular companionship, consideration of our needs, and to be satisfied.

The NHL may have left us, but hockey fans haven’t sat by the phone, pining away for that phone call. We’ve loved, lost, and moved on. We’ve found other, often more rewarding, things to occupy our time. And we’ve learned – most importantly – that we can live without it.

Will fans eventually come back? There will be the die-hards who are so starved for hockey’s affection that they’ll come running back, forgiving all that’s gone on in the past. But there are others, maybe even the majority of people, who will be more wary of hockey’s return.

That bloom of first love has been lost forever and, no matter how hard hockey tries to woo us back, it may never be the same as it was. We, as fans, have moved on and we expect more.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Overprotecting our Youth Today Limits Their Future Tomorrow

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By Jason Menard

I worry, what’s going to happen to today’s children when we remove the protective bubble wrap and force them to head out into that big, bad, dangerous world all by their lonesome?

Sometimes too much knowledge can be dangerous. Many parents, who are regaled with new and potentially explosive news about the latest threats to their children, live in fear of letting their kids do the one thing they do best – be kids.

Kids are supposed to get dirty, they’re supposed to take a few chances in their life – that’s how they learn. As sensitive parents, we understand that we’re supposed to forgive our children’s mistakes and encourage them to use them as a learning tool. But how are they supposed to make mistakes when today’s society doesn’t even encourage them to go out and test the waters.

I feel my parents did a good job, overall. I’m still here, in general good health, and I take an active interest in the world around me. And, while they were aware of where I was in my youth, I remember spending all day riding my bike around the neighbourhood or playing in the park, no matter what the temperature. Rain, sun, heat, cold – we were out there enjoying life to its fullest – and we weren’t restricted to a 50-foot radius around our front porch.

Now, I don’t want to come across as an old fogey harping on about the Good Ol’ Days, but more and more today’s kids are being restricted in what they can do, what they can experience, and where they can go. Our societal fears are overwhelming our desire to watch our children live, thrive, and survive on their own.

On an average day, my wife and I will send our son out to play, only to have him come back shortly thereafter saying that none of his friends will come out, because it’s too hot (we’re talking mid-20s here, not fry-an-egg-hot summer days) – they’d rather stay inside and play video games. Looking back on my youth, heat was never a consideration – and the concept of dehydration was never even brought up. You played until you were ready to drop, came home, ate lunch or dinner, and then headed outdoors again.

Parents are dousing their kids in waterless antibacterial cleaners, because – God forbid – they come in contact with a germ. But what will the long-term ramifications of this desire to protect our children from disease be? Will we create a generation of kids who are in danger of being felled by the common cold because they’ve not developed a normal immunity, like the rest of us?

Even a recent trip to an amusement park indicates how protective we’ve become. Rides, which once sufficed with a lap bar or a shoulder restraint now feature intricate protection devices, double-belts, and the like. Signs for rides indicated so many exclusions, that only Olympic athletes appear to qualify to get on board.

Gone are the days where kids would get on their bikes and ride. Gone are the days when a forest was a place to explore with friends. Gone are the days when time could be wasted, pleasurably. Gone are the days when kids could get dirty all in the name of exploration, discovery, and fun. What those days have been replaced with

We live in a society built on fear – fear of litigation, fear of our children hurting themselves, fear of our children being abducted – and that fear has clouded our parental instincts to the point where we’re suffocating our kids’ abilities to experience the world in the same way we have.

Parents often issue the similar refrain that today’s world is different, which is true. But what’s more true is that today’s parent has changed. The available world around us has expanded to the point where its farthest reaches are within the click of a mouse, yet we’ve done our utmost to confine our kids’ world to their immediate surroundings.

Once, in my youth, I decided to take a running leap at the tree in our front yard, which featured parallel branches. Thinking I could make like an Olympic gymnast I leapt for the first branch, only to miss spectacularly. Lying in a crumpled heap, the wind knocked out of me and my head ringing, I learned a valuable lesson about risk management that I have applied to my every day life since.

And that’s the whole point. Our childhood follies and experiences teach us lessons for the long-run. We learn what to touch and what not to touch. We learn how to look before we leap. And, most importantly, we learn how to make our own way through this big, exciting – and sometimes scary – world.

By over-protecting our kids, we’re ensuring that they’ll make it to their future without a scratch – but are we not restricting the future they have by robbing them of the ability to experience life first hand? When we’ve finished holding their hands through their youth and keeping them at arm’s length, where will they go? What will they do? An animal raised in captivity often times is unable to be released into the wild because they don’t have basic survival skills. Are we doing anything different to our children by holding on so tight?

We need to give our kids the same gift our parents gave to us – the gift of a childhood. And if my son or daughter come home with a cut on the leg or a bout of Poison Ivy, then my wife and I will take care of them, and take comfort in the idea that each experience will add one more lesson learned to their youthful experience.

And it’s one more lesson that they can take with them when they step out on their own into that big world that’s full of the unknown, full of fear, but also full of beauty, excitement, and potential.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved