Author Archives: Jay Menard

Raising Our Kids is Not a Game

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By Jason Menard

While some parents are hailing the decision of the Retail Council of Canada to voluntarily restrict the access of certain video games to children, I have to wonder if this is truly a step forward in protecting our youth – or whether it’s just another case of parents abdicating their responsibility to someone else.

Once again, instead of taking the active role in child-rearing, we’re looking to external bodies to regulate our environment. To take the choice out of our hands, and to protect us from ourselves. The problem is, it won’t work. By making these games harder to get, all we have done is made them more appealing to kids.

My generation was one that grew up with video games. Whereas it’s unthinkable that many of my parents’ peers would be caught with a controller in their hands (my mother, addicted to Pac Man as she is, is a notable exception), I’m hard-pressed to find anyone in my early-30s circle of friends that don’t own at least one video game system. They are as ubiquitous as DVD players and TVs.

And, as my generation raises their children, we are exposing them to video games. The key for us is to do so responsibly and to do that we need to be active parents. No ratings or restrictions are going to change that.

As parents, my wife and I have chosen to restrict the types of games that our 10-year-old son is allowed to play. The reality is that there are plenty of games with content that some people would find unsavoury. We’ve rented games filled with strong language, violence, sexual themes, gore, and any number of illegal activities. The key thing is that we don’t play them when he’s around. Nor do we allow him to play them – and we explain to him why. There are plenty of video games out in this world and there are more than enough for him to enjoy without subjecting him to adult-themed games.

But we’ve decided to set these rules. In the same way that we guide what movies he watches, what TV shows he’s exposed to, and what access to the Internet he has, so to do we monitor the video games. In fact, we generally try any game he gets before he does, to be sure we’re comfortable with the images and activities he’s going to presented with.

It’s called active parenting – and no rating system can give that to you.

In fact, ratings are only good as guides, not as enforcements. There are two sides to this coin. First off, ask most teenagers which movie they’d prefer to see – one with a PG rating or one with a Restricted rating – and they’ll choose the latter, greatly because of the stigma attached to it. The sense of mystery and the idea of the forbidden are far more appealing than the “parentally accepted” former choice.

Secondly, ratings are not absolutes. Whether they’re industry-defined or independently assigned, they only serve to provide a general guideline of the content. There are R-rated films that I have no problem allowing my son to watch, and that have more value than many of the so-called age-appropriate films. But we don’t allow him to watch these in isolation. If a broadcast has strong themes present, it’s our responsibility as parents to talk about them, not ignore them as if they don’t exist.

Many parents, including ourselves, have been guilty at times of using TV as a babysitter. And now, as my generation continues to have children, the video game system is taking the same function in many cases. But, just as you wouldn’t hire a baby-sitter to watch your children without performing a thorough screening first, nor should you fire up a PS2 or Xbox without some prior knowledge of what’s going to happen.

I’m not so naïve as to think that my son is being completely sheltered from these images. In fact, I know acquaintances that allow their pre-teens free access to games that I would consider challenging for most adults, but that’s their choice and their kids. My wife and I can only control our environment and hope that the lessons we’re teaching, the messages we’re imparting, and the choices we’re making are enabling our son to feel comfortable in the world we live in.

Stricter enforcement on sales and ratings systems won’t do anything to diminish the appeal of violent and suggestive video games. It’s our job as parents to be actively aware of what our kids are exposed to. Raising our kids is not a game – so let’s start taking it seriously and stop looking for others to regulate what we do.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Sports Watching With my Wife

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By Jason Menard

Forget The Apprentice. If you want to see real wheeling and dealing at its finest, then look no further than the average household when the great debate is on. I’m not talking about politics or religion – no, the great debate in my house, and many others like it, revolves around one question – “Honey, can I watch the game tonight?”

To all you single men out there, please consider strongly any desire you may have to settle down if sports is really and truly a priority. Fortunately, I love my wife more than I love sports – but that doesn’t really make things any easier.

In my youth, I was the biggest sports fan around. I could rhyme of meaningless statistics, name the Stanley Cup winners from the past 50 years – in order, and talk insightfully about any number of sporting topics. My TV could have had only two channels, but as long as it picked up Hockey Night in Canada and TSN, I was a happy man.

Now, my TV has over 200 channels, we have time-shifting, and world broadcasts – yet it seems that somehow my wife has been able to install an S-chip without me even knowing it! I knew about V-chips that blocked violence from your screen, but I had no idea that there was a chip in development that eliminates even the hint of athleticism from the airwaves. At times, the most athletic activity that graces our screen is when the homeowners dash to their neighbours’ house in Trading Spaces…

I know there are other husbands just like me. In fact, I’ve seen them at work. When our single brethren ask us if we catch the game, our eyes shift about, we mumble something semi-coherent about being busy last night, and wonder to ourselves how it all came down to this. If we’re lucky, we’ll sneak a couple of minutes of highlights, or you’ll see us lingering in the TV section of the store on shopping excursions.

And this time of year is especially torturous. With Canadian and NFL football dominating the airwaves, basketball on its way, and hockey… well, during a normal year… we feel the same way as we do when we lose the car in a parking lot – we know what we’re looking for is nearby, but we can’t find our way to it! Like Tantalus, what we want is maddeningly close, but just out of reach.

I’ve tried to share my enthusiasm with sports with my wife, but she grew up in a household where organized sports weren’t a part of everyday life. So, try as I might, I can’t get her to see the joys of sport. “It’s just a bunch of overgrown man grabbing and hitting each other,” she’ll say.

I’ll try to explain the intricacies of football, or illustrate the speed and beauty of hockey, or get her to appreciate the athleticism of basketball players, but the response is the same. I suppose if the players went off and redesigned their dressing rooms between periods it would be a different story.

My favourite line of hers is, “Well, you watched sports today.” As if all manner of athletics can be lumped into one athletic stew to be ladled out judiciously. And I, like a modern-day Oliver Twist, must humbly hold up my remote saying, “Please ma’am, may I have some more?”

I am thankful to have two TVs, but that can be both a blessing and a curse. First, the bigger TV is never available for sports – I think it may be allergic to them. And when I ask why my wife won’t go in our bedroom to the smaller TV, the answer is invariably, “Well, that one doesn’t get all the channels.”

So, you may say, what’s the problem? Just get up and go to the other TV. Which is an option, but – as you may recall from a couple of paragraphs above – I do love my wife and enjoy spending time with her, so that’s not an option I’d really like to pursue.

Like an athlete in his older years, the game begins to get away from us. Yet, the joys of family far outstrip the pleasures derived from sports. Priorities change and the more important things in life come into focus as we mature. So, while I may look back fondly on my youthful engorgement in sports, I wouldn’t trade a moment of it for what I have today.

But the second she drops that remote…

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Good Customer Service Not Dead – But It’s On Life Support

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By Jason Menard

Everyone has their shopping war stories, but lately, stepping out to pour some money into the local economy has involved navigating an ever-growing minefield of surly staff, undertrained employees, and indifference that edges towards hostility.

And it’s not even Christmas yet? I’m starting to think that October has become the Exhibition Season for holiday rudeness. These employees are just honing their craft so that when the holiday rush comes they’ll have their surly game faces on!

During a recent shopping excursion I had to check where I was, because I suddenly felt like I had stumbled across a particular ring of the underworld that Dante missed – a retail purgatory of sorts. In a five-hour window I met the following individuals:

  • Grocery cashier who continues a conversation with a co-worker and never acknowledges my presence, not even to relay the total.
  • Department store employee (or at least the back of her head) who greets a politely posed question with a grunt and never looks up.
  • Toy store employee who, in explaining why a week-long sale is out of merchandise the morning after it starts, explains ‘it says while supplies last, what do you want me to do?’

And that’s just a few examples, the list goes on. Perhaps you’ve met them. And lest you think I’m the typical obnoxious customer, know that I’ve worked in retail during my youth. I understand what they’re going through, so I make it my mission to go out of my way to be pleasant with these employees.

But now I wonder if the effort’s worth it.

If I could take one positive out of all this negative, it would be that all the encounters I had were with older employees. I have always been bothered by the fact that teens and casually employed youth are often unfairly fingered for poor attitudes, while their older – and often crustier – co-workers are given a free pass. This retail rudeness is reaching epidemic proportions! No one is safe!

The problem is that too many of us take this rudeness and poor customer service sitting down. So, I got on the phone. I called supervisors, I called managers, I called head offices – and I got results! The toy store tracked down the items I needed from another location out of town. The managers said they would address the issues with their employees. Heck, even my cable company credited me for poor service.

The squeaky wheel truly does get the grease in our society. But why do we have to squeak at all? Why can’t the wheels of business roll smoothly? Why do we have to put up with these retail potholes? The simple answer is that we’ve let it happen to ourselves. Most of us desperately want to avoid confrontation, so we skulk off, muttering under our breaths about how offended and unappreciated we feel, yet doing nothing to address the issue.

It’s a lose-lose situation. We, the consumer feel worse about the store – but, more importantly, feel worse about ourselves. We then take that negativity and transfer it on to those who may not deserve it – kind of a reverse ‘Pay it Forward’ ideal.

The retailers? They lose at least one customer, without even knowing it. We may think we’re proving a point by saying, ‘Well, I’ll never shop there again.’ We may experience a cathartic release as we recount our shopping horrors to our friends and family, hoping to convince them to join us in our silent boycott of these stores. But the problem doesn’t get any better. Since the retailer doesn’t know a problem exists, how can they be expected to fix it?

We need to take an active role as consumers in ensuring that we receive the service we deserve! And I chose that word carefully. Many of us demand a level of service that we don’t deserve. Shopping is a two-way transaction, and we have a responsibility to conduct our business in a pleasant manner. Just as employees don’t have the right to ignore the consumer, nor does the consumer have the right to treat the employee as a servant, there to do one’s bidding.

So the next time you walk into a store, do so with a smile. Engage someone in conversation, share a joke, have a little patience, and just be pleasant! And if you don’t get the service you deserve, then make your voice heard. Talk to the manager, call the head office, do anything but settle for the status quo.

Because, if we turn a blind eye to the situation, then we really will get the service we deserve.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

An Ode to Helena Rudy

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By Jason Menard

In many cases, image is truth – and we have been witness to a tale of two realities of late.

October 12, Helena Rudy crosses a picket line in Toronto her path obstructed by an angry mob gathered around to intimidate her into joining fellow strikers. A chorus of “Scab, scab, scab” seemingly keeping time with each impeded footfall.

October 13, the first of many NHL games are officially missed due to the lockout. Yet there are no grand displays. Not with a bang, but with a whisper are these games lost. And where are the players? Why are they not standing at the gates of arenas across North America, showing that they want to get in to ply their trade?

Why is Helena Rudy vilified for making the difficult decision to cross a picket line to do her job, while we seem to have no resentment for NHL players choosing to take the path of least resistance in heading overseas to play in European leagues?

Why will Helena Rudy have to deal with the ramifications of her actions for years to come? Why will she be subject to being ostracized by her peers? Why will she endure the sideways glances and comments made under breath as retribution for her action? Why will NHL players, when this labour impasse has ended, be welcomed with opened arms? Their actions forgotten in the collective joy of a return to the ice?

Why is solidarity so important for one group of employees – to the point of attaching social stigma to one who breaks ranks – while it’s almost an afterthought to the other, far-more-affluent, group?

Image is everything in our society. The major battles in the NHL labour war have not been fought over the future of the game, but rather they have been skirmishes to win fan empathy and approval. Fans, who already feel an emotional disconnect from their beloved ice idols now are feeling a physical disconnect as these same players ply their trade elsewhere.

NHL players, instead of standing in solidarity, showing the fans that they want to get back to the table, have dispersed to far corners of the globe in search of games. Instead of a striking visual of NHL players standing at an arena gate, willing but unable to play due to the owners’ lockout, we are presented with no image whatsoever.

Well, not whatsoever. The image we are left with is one of total selfishness. It’s an image of a group of players so concerned about protecting their employment status in the NHL and willing to fight for it, that they seemingly have no problem taking jobs away from other people in other leagues.

The 200 or so roster places around the world that are now occupied by NHL players were not created out of thin air. They were 200 or so roster spots occupied by those who made their living playing hockey, at a substantially lower rate than their NHL brethren. Those are now 200 or so marginal players without a paycheque. They are 200 or so people with a dream to play the game they love for a living without the opportunity to do so, because these locked-out millionaires have decided to take a “working vacation.”

Yes, this is a lockout – by definition owner-imposed — and the NHL players did not choose to have their place of employment taken away from them. However, these players are already on shaky ground with the most important stakeholders in this whole debate – the paying fans.

Already fans have a hard time relating to the modern player. They get paid millions to play a game that anyone sitting in the stands would do for free if given the chance. They live lifestyles beyond our imagination. They earn more in a season than many of the paying public will do in a lifetime.

However, fans can relate to the semi-pro athlete. It’s an inverse proportion, really. The less money a player makes, the closer a fan can feel to understanding that player. And now these NHL millionaires are shoving aside the less fortunate. So the fan resents them more for that.

In this war, the NHL players missed a golden opportunity to get fan support on their side. Image is everything! Standing before a locked-out arena would have shown the fans that the players still care. It would have shown that they understand what the fans want. Instead, they’re earning a paycheck somewhere else. And, as the old adage states, out of site, out of mind.

So we come back to Helena Rudy, whom we vilify as a scab just for wanting to do her job. Her situation is just the other side of the NHL players coin, but each seems to hold different currency.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Why Do We Worship at the Church of Tim’s?

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By Jason Menard

Like many of you reading this column right now, I just put down my cup of Tim Hortons coffee. For many, starting the morning with a trip to the drive through is as much a part of waking us as brushing your teeth – to speak nothing of afternoon and evening trips to the neighbourhood “Timmy’s.”

Buy why? The simple answer is that we, as a society, have chosen to worship at the Church of Tim’s.

Tim Hortons fans are a passionate bunch. Like a favoured family member, they call the establishment by cute little nicknames such as Tim’s and Timmy’s (or, as one particularly obnoxious person I knew used to refer to it as Timmy Ho’s!) Discarded coffee cups dot our landscape like falling leaves. The franchises cursive signage as familiar as our own signature.

In its 40 years, the image of Tim Horton the hockey player has been lost – swept away in the disposed coffee grounds of history. For many, he is no longer a man, but simply a faceless, ubiquitous presence on our landscape. But the question lingers. Why does Tim Hortons – apostrophe challenged as it may be – have such a firm grip on our collective conscious, while its caffeinated brethren, such as Second Cup and Dunkin’ Donuts, continue toil along in relative obscurity, not enjoying the same level of cultural attachment that Tim’s commands.

With some people, their attachment borders on the addictive. In fact, there may be money in establishing methadone clinics for coffee drinkers! A 12-step program? A coffee bean patch? But what inspires this reverence and dedication?

The answer lies in the community. Mass communications, telephony, the Internet, and all manner of technological achievements have made contact with the far corners of the Earth as simple as talking to our neighbour. Perhaps overwhelmed with the fact that the world is literally at our fingertips, we have become more withdrawn. The sense of community has diminished to the point where many of us no next to nothing about the people that live right next door. The act of going to Church, once such an integral part of the Canadian fabric, has since diminished as evidenced by shrinking congregations.

But we, as humans, are social animals. We crave a sense of kinship. To feel connected to the group, we need that sense of shared experience. That’s one of the reasons that team sports are so successful. As a Canadiens’ fan, I can see someone wearing the Habs’ jersey and know we share common ground. Television shows and movies provide that same sense of commonality – the knowledge that while we may be cooped up in our homes, we still are participating in something shared by the community at large.

So today, instead of lining up to receive the Eucharist from the priest, we queue up to purchase our java. And when we look around us and see others sharing the same experience we feel a sense of connection to the greater community. In fact, recent Tim Hortons advertisements have played on that theme, using a travel mug as a symbol of Canada that brings people together even in far-flung parts of the world.

All around the world, various cultures have their comfort foods. They are generally simple, inexpensive meals that inspire memories of home and feelings of security. For many Canadians, it can be argued that Tim Hortons coffee has become their comfort beverage. And, despite its stimulating qualities, coffee is actually associated with taking a break from the hectic pace of life. The languid pace of coffee drinking is the ideal setting for relaxed conversation.

It is ironic that even though we gravitate towards larger cities we lose our sense of community. More people surrounding us only seems to drive us further into isolation and a feeling of detachment. Crowded environments blur into faceless masses. So it’s only natural that we search for those common experiences that make us feel closer to our fellow man.

I was always bewildered by this Cult of Tim. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of their coffee, but I’ll have a cup here and there. But now, instead of looking on in bewilderment at the counter line-ups or in the drive-through, I can look on with sympathy.

After all, we’re all just looking for our place in this life – one cup at a time.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved