Category Archives: Lifestyle (MC Archive)

Lifestyle-related columns that appeared on Jason Menard’s previous Web site, Menard Communications.

Revisiting TV Memories Not Always Good Viewing

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By Jason Menard

Despite the advent of personal video recorders, there are some cases when the television medium and the rewind button just don’t mix – especially when it comes to shows we prized in our youth.

An affiliate of the Cartoon Network, aimed at the 18-plus demographic, has purchased the entire run of Pee Wee’s Playhouse and intends to run it during the 11:00 p.m. slot – too late to be targeted to a new audience. And while the wannabe hipsters will embrace the show, the vast majority of us who saw the show in its first go-around will probably end up disappointed.

The adage of you can’t go home again has been disproved over and over. But while the phrase can’t be used as a generalization, it does still apply in certain areas, especially to the things we loved as a child.

The shows don’t change – it’s the way in which we see them that’s evolved. The wide-eyed wonder of our youth is replaced by a more jaundiced, discerning perspective that adulthood provides. We know more, we understand more, and it’s harder for us as adults to suspend disbelief.

And, in the case of Pee Wee Herman, our viewing experience will now be filtered through a bit of salacious knowledge that Mr. Reubens unfortunately had, uhm, exposed. Simple jokes, innocent banter, and personal interplay will now be heavily coloured by innuendo and double-entendres – even when they’re not there.

The gazillion-channel universe that we live in has almost ensured that no show will ever go unwatched again. Entire channels are dedicated to replaying so-called classic series to the nostalgic. So the chances are good that the show you loved as a child is either on some channel’s schedule, or will be in the near future. The choice of watching again is up to you.

But, from personal experience, I’d advise you not to.

Everything’s bigger and better in our youth. The snows were higher, the games were more fun, and the shows were simply better. With an 11-year-old boy and a four-year-old girl, I’ve been able to stay abreast of what’s on now: much of the older child’s programming features smart-alecky, pseudo-rebellious kids with a penchant for back talk and clichés. For my younger off-spring, her choices are more Princess-oriented and Disneyfied, along with some (absolutely entertaining) educational shows like Dora the Explorer and Go Diego Go.

Watching our eldest’s shows, my wife and I have occasionally fallen into the trap of turning up our noses at the shows and lamenting about the loss of intelligent viewing options. Fortunately, with alternative channels like Animal Planet and Discovery Kids, we can take solace in the fact that there are more opportunities of education and entertainment to blend. But, let’s face it, as a kid sometimes you just want to be entertained and put the ol’ brain on park.

Both my wife and I were fond of the Incredible Hulk, so we were excited about the chance of catching it again when it appeared on the schedule for one of our subscribed channels. After two episodes we began to question our intelligence. Maybe we weren’t as smart or discerning as we thought we were.

My wife was a Charlie’s Angels fan. Another memory tarnished by reality. Miami Vice? Terrible. A-Team? B rate. But the worst, most disappointing wasted childhood memory? V.

Whenever discussions of shows we loved came up, V was at the top of our list. We remembered it as a stylish, intelligent, exciting show – even though the only memories we could conjure up was the image of the aliens peeling off their fake human faces. In this case, the stature of the show continued to be built up due to its stubborn refusal to show up on my dial. My faith in the quality of the show was unwavering.

Until we saw it. Let’s just say I miss my memories.

And that’s the key. Few things are as good as we remember from youth, and it’s made me gun shy about what I’m willing to watch again. I picked up Schoolhouse Rock andUnderdog DVDs and was pleased that they still met my lofty expectations. I watched Sesame Street with my daughter, or the old Spider-Man cartoons (you know, the one that used stock images when he was swinging so that the Empire State Building would appear in any jungle or any country…) with my son and they’re still entertaining.

Yet, I’ve lost so much by revisiting my youth. Fond memories have been tainted by present-day realities. I remember loving the Electric Company, but do I really want to pick up the new DVD set and risk slaying Speed Reader?

When favourite shows return to the tube, your decision on whether or not you want to watch comes down to how much are you willing to gamble? How fond are your memories? Are you willing to compromise childhood reminisces? I’m finding, personally, the answer is less and less in the affirmative.

After all, absence does make the heart grow fonder – and those built-up memories rarely stand the test of time.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

The Face of AIDS Looks Better than Ever, Unfortunately

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By Jason Menard

AIDS is my disease.

Fortunately I don’t mean in the way that I have contracted it, but in the fact that the spectre of AIDS and its complications have been a part of my life ever since I was truly conscious of disease.

Unlike cancer, diabetes, and heart disease – all worthy adversaries, mind you – AIDS was the disease that defined my generation. It was the issue that we were forced to deal with from a very young age, and it’s safe to say it defined the expression of sexuality for many of my demographic.

And as AIDS now turns 25 – a birthday that often is seen as a turning point in the transition from youth to adulthood – it appears to only be getting stronger. AIDS may be my disease, but I have no clue how to fight it, and the casualties are mounting.

Recently, we lost a family friend to complications of AIDS. That not-unexpected turn of events helped to put the disease back in focus. After all, for a while there we were looking at AIDS as an African disease. In North America, the disease is largely being viewed as treatable through the use of antiretrovirals. The “drug cocktail” has enabled North Americans to view AIDS still as a life sentence, but no longer as a quick stint on death row.

Africa, on the other hand, is so far away from our daily conscious that we can push it aside. We can hear about the horrors of HIV and AIDS and how they’re decimating entire populations, but not rationalize that with our more sterilized and sanitary AIDS epidemic on this side of the Atlantic. A human tragedy is only one when it can touch you – otherwise it remains too far in the realm of the abstract to directly impact us.

The last time I felt that detachment from AIDS was during my youth. Naiveté, innocence, and a healthy measure of arrogance, meant that I couldn’t truly understand the impact AIDS was having in the community around me. Sitting with the boys in the locker room, we’d make off-colour jokes, laugh nervously at expressions of sexuality that we only half-understood – but of which we had to fake so as not to reveal our immaturity, and compartmentalized the disease as something we would never be exposed to. After all, we weren’t gay. We didn’t know Rock Hudson. We were safe, or so we thought. Immature attempts at gallows humour were our defense against the unknown.

It wasn’t until later on in life that we learn that we’re never truly safe. Beyond the fear (and hate) mongering and ignorance of those who claimed that you could contract AIDS from toilet seats or sharing a glass, we learned that AIDS was not just a disease for others. It wasn’t just a gay or IV drug user disease (a pairing that far too often was lumped together), but rather a disease that any of us could get if we were irresponsible.

Sexuality, frightening enough on its own, became downright terrorizing. High school issues went beyond simply questioning the value of teaching sexual education in the classroom, but rather how we could justify not putting condom machines in the bathroom.

So where are we today, now that AIDS is 25 years old? We have a generation of youth who have grown up knowing nothing but AIDS in their lives. And, unlike those of us who were raised during the first, uncertain, days of the disease, they seem to have less fear of the issue. Perhaps the advent of these drug cocktails, allowing HIV-sufferers to live for years in relative good health, has prevented today’s youth from seeing the horrors and ravages that AIDS can impose upon the body.

My introduction to AIDS was one of emaciated bodies, feeble eyes that stared off into the distance, and the certainty of a rapid decent into eternal slumber. Today’s face of AIDS is robust, active, and – most importantly – alive in every sense of the word. It almost makes you think that living with the disease isn’t that bad after all.

And that’s why, at 25 years old, AIDS has matured and is more dangerous than ever. High-risk sexual behaviours are on the rise, simply because the consequences don’t seem that bad. HIV-infected stars like Magic Johnson represent both the best and worst of the epidemic: he shows that you can live an active and full life even with the disease, but at the same time, his relative robust persona diminishes the very real danger that HIV and AIDS presents.

The North American face of AIDS is simply a façade. The true nature of the disease is there for all to see as it ravages Africa. Unfortunately, we as a society just don’t care to look.

AIDS may be my disease, but the one that I encountered a quarter of a century ago has gotten wilier and more insidious. At 25, AIDS has matured. Instead of showing its age, it appears to be in the full bloom of youth. And that’s the scariest thing of all.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Oh the Humanity!

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By Jason Menard

Three hours – 40 e-mails. And that’s a quiet day. Anyone else think that’s excessive? Anyone else feel that cubicle-dwellers are just putting up more walls around themselves by trading expediency for human contact?

It’s not a new concept, it’s not a new idea, but our compartmentalized lives are negating the delicate art of human interaction. In fact, in the office environment I work, I can go days without knowing whether or not co-workers that share the same immediate office space as I are even here!

But whose fault is that? Is it a product of some faceless, omnipotent bureaucratic force – or is it the fact that I get so self-absorbed in myself and my work that I don’t make an effort to walk the 20 feet to see who’s there?

We’re only human, so it’s normal that we look to blame someone, or something, else for our trials and tribulations. However, this loss of human contact can’t be blamed on e-mails, Instant Messaging, or the telephone – the blame lies squarely at our own two feet. And it’s time for us to deal with it.

E-mail conversations are increasingly replacing simple chats as the preferred method of doing business. As opposed to actually GOING to someone’s desk and addressing an issue face to face, we e-mail a conversation. But, like long-distance chess, the end result may be the same, but the time between commencement and conclusion can be interminable.

I’ve had e-mail discussions that have lasted all day, when in reality the simple act of picking up the phone and calling someone – or, perish the thought, actually getting up and talking to them face-to-face – would have rendered the entire discussion complete within a couple of minutes.

But today’s employee measures efficiency not in the time it takes to complete a task, but in the number of tasks that they’re able to juggle at any one time. Multi-tasking is simply a fact of life in today’s hectic business environment, so the idea of dedicating a block of time to one topic – and only one! – is anathema to many people. By keeping their butts firmly ensconced in their chair, they’re able to have access to a wide range of activities. However, by walking away from the desk – cutting the electronic umbilical cord, if you will – we find ourselves lost and alone, disconnected from the so-called lifelines that have become so much a part of us.

Remaining sedentary, in the business world, can often be perceived as being productive. And getting up, walking around, and talking face-to-face with people can be perceived by others as a lack of commitment, wasting time, or – to put it bluntly in biz-speak – having too-familiar relations with a member of the canis familiaris species.

Let’s not vilify e-mail completely. Let’s acknowledge that e-mail has the power to bring people closer together and has completely revitalized the lost art of letter-writing (however, it appears to have not brought back a commensurate resurrection of grammar and spelling proficiency). I keep in touch with friends and family living in far-off places much easier than before the advent of electronic communications. Firing off an e-mail, and even attaching a few pictures, is a cheap, easy, and almost-immediate way for people to keep in touch.

But in the business world we have to prioritize networking, communications, and social interaction. Getting up to talk about an issue with a co-worker isn’t just socially rewarding – it’s expedient, productive, and effective. Importantly, it positively impacts the bottom line.

Tone, subtlety, sarcasm, humour, innuendo – all can get lost in the process of e-mailing someone. Real feelings can be hurt by virtual world, and often these are caused by a misrepresentation of the written word reflecting off a cold, emotionless screen. You don’t get that ambiguity to the same extent in face-to-face communications.

In the end, no matter what business you’re in, your end product’s target is human. So why don’t we involve more humanity in the process? E-mail is a tool, that’s it – it shouldn’t be the whole tool box. And I’d rather have a face-to-face with a repairman than a hammer any day – it’s a whole lot less painful.

The next time you go to send an e-mail, consider whether a more personal approach may serve you better. After all, we’re only human, right?

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Fishing for the Force of Celebrity

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By Jason Menard

We question why a fish, once he’s escaped certain death at the end of a hook, would so readily lust after that oddly hanging, totally-out-of-its-element, worm the next time it cross its path. But it does, just as we do whenever Madonna goes out on tour.

They say fish have painfully short memories, but what’s our excuse for biting down again on the same old tired bait.

Newspapers, television shows, and the Internet are rife with images of the largely Immaterial Girl symbolically crucifying herself on a mirrored cross. And, instead of ignoring the bait, the Catholic League just couldn’t resist and now finds itself dancing on the line that is Madonna’s publicity machine.

Really, do we care what Madonna does? Are we at all surprised with what she does on stage? Should we be? Honestly, it’s not as if this is Barry Manilow we’re talking about here. It’s not like Madonna doesn’t have a history of turning taboos into television time. Yet, like the spoiled child who gets attention by throwing a temper tantrum, Madonna is able to use outrageous behaviour to gain her attention when, perhaps, her music no longer warrants it.

Cone bras, bisexualism, dancing as a peep show stripper with an underage child, alleged carnal explorations of Dennis Rodman and Vanilla Ice, burning crosses in Pepsi ads, simulated masturbation on stage – really, did nobody see the precedent here? Are we really supposed to be shocked?

If she managed to come out with a movie that didn’t suck – then, that would warrant attention. But no, we’re hooked like fish on a two-pronged rod – one reeling us in, the other one hooked into our wallets – and Madonna manages to leverage her lifetime membership in the Cult of Celebrity.

What is it about us that values style over substance? Madonna’s imagery was always an interesting side project to the fact that her music was, in large part, entertaining and danceable. Before she was a trend-setter, now she jumps from trend to trend, canoodling with today’s starlets (hello Ms. Spears) in an attempt to have their star power rub off on her. She, like so many other entertainers before her, is living off her legacy and has long moved past the stage of titillating into the realm of creepy, reserving space on the discount rack next to Sharon Stone’s Basic Instinct sequel.

It seems when superstars reach a certain status, their need to actually put out quality work lessens – for a time. While U2 is back on top of their game, there were quite a few albums there where it appeared they were just going through the motions. Yet fans would still try to justify the work, analyze their new directions, and come up with plausible explanations for why the new stuff sucked.

Here’s a news flash. Musicians can suck. Actors can plateau. Life moves on. Talent isn’t absolute. Keanu Reeves: good in Bill & Ted’s, bad in everything else. Yet, somehow he continues to get roles – including a new film with the similarly inexplicable Sandra Bullock — despite showing the acting range of the average piece of theatre popcorn. Al Pacino, once a celluloid force is now just cashing checks and shouting his way through scenes where he once gave consideration to acting. And what deal with the devil has kept Bon Jovi recording albums while similarly (un)talented acts like Helix and Nelson are pushing brooms in the local mini-mart?

Celebrity is an odd force. It’s inexplicable and defies talent. The magazine racks are filled with images of starlet racks. Their talent is secondary to their “talents.” Going by the gossip mags, our Hollywood celebrities spend most of their time in bikinis. But sex sells — which may explain Paris Hilton. Our modern-day Zsa Zsa Gabor, famous for being famous, Hilton represents everything that’s both wrong and right about fame.

It’s mercurial, it’s fortuitous, and it’s inexplicable. It can prop up the talentless, while crushing the dreams of those with real acting or singing chops. It’s a force of nature that we’re all moved by but have no control over. And it makes us suspend our otherwise common sensibilities and blinds us to reality.

So the next time Madonna does something predictably outrageous, feel free to be offended. After all, it’s just the force of celebrity moving you to take the bait, yet again.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Opportunity Knocks in the Form of Tom Hanks

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By Jason Menard

Batten down the hatches! Shield your children’s ears. The day of the Apocalypse is upon us! Verily, the very foundations upon which Western society has been built are set to crumble.

And the culprit? For years rumours have abounded that the Anti-Christ walks among us and now we have seen his face. The one to send humanity to its fire and brimstone end? Tom Hanks.

With the release of the DaVinci Code movie, defenders of the Christian faith are wringing their hands nervously at the allegations and potentially devastating revelations that were first popularized in Dan Brown’s novel and now have made the big screen in an easy-to-digest, two-hour format. And Tom Hanks, with his everyman appeal and Midas Touch at the box office is a perfect vessel from which evil can pour forth.

Think about it. What if the Holy Grail isn’t a chalice or the living bloodline of Christ through a marriage to Mary Magdalene, as the DaVinci Code claims? What if the elusive Grail is actually a hidden item that inexplicably allows people to reach unheard of levels of fame despite not doing too much?

I mean, the evidence is there. Hanks has made a career being Hanks. Save for his performance in Philadelphia, he’s never really done anything that’s beyond the everyman, pleasant guy. Splash? Big? Even Forrest Gump was a pleasant Everyguy with some developmental challenges. Cast Away? Everyguy on a beach with a volleyball. That Thing You Do? The Ladykillers? Road to Perdition? Everyguy in period dress.

Hell – no pun intended – for someone as pleasantly bland as Hanks is there must be something that he’s drawing upon to unleash the forces necessary to survive bombs like Joe Versus the Volcano and Turner and Hooch. Maybe the grail is shared amongst Hollywood glitterati – which would explain why I know Zsa Zsa Gabor’s name and why I can’t walk past a newsstand without seeing her next-gen copy Paris Hilton – allowing people to be famous just for being famous.

No, Hanks is just Nice Guy on Screen with an Impressive Rolodex (or compromising pictures of Ron Howard.) Which is why it’s so intriguing to see Christians losing their minds over something as innocuous as a movie. Yes, the issues are challenging and appear to be unflattering to the Church as an institution. But in their zeal to repress discussion of the book, its contents, and Hanks’ performance (which may not be a bad idea…) the Church has ignored the greatest opportunity of all. And that is the chance to be relevant.

The DaVinci Code was not the first source for these Grail theories. Nor are alternative versions of the life of Christ or Christianity in general restricted to the here and now. But people are talking. Religion is relevant. For a Church that’s been hemorrhaging parishioners for years, instead of boarding up the doors with dogma, the Church should be engaging these newly interested people in discussions about religion.

Having faith does not preclude having curiosity. Questioning one’s religion does not constitute a crisis of faith. It is a factor in what makes us human.

I am not religious. I am spiritual. I suppose it’s a factor of not being able to drink the whole glass of Kool-Aid for any one religion. However, I also believe that if God is going to punish me for being a good person, being respectful of others, raising my kids and loving my wife to the best of my ability, and for thirsting for knowledge, then that’s a deity that I’m just ready to get down with.

Many others are like me. They are fed up of religions that choose to dictate to their followers as opposed to engaging them in the discussion. Many religions employ a top-down model of faith, wherein a select few are in the know while the followers must swear blind allegiance.

Why can’t we question our faith? Does a belief in a deity preclude curiosity? Does it eliminate free thought? Or can religion not open itself up and engage those who are interested in thoughtful debate and discussion. Not everything has to be black and white – there’s room for metaphor and there’s room for leaps of faith – but shutting people out of the discussion process is counterproductive.

For the first time in years, religious discussion is cool. But instead of embracing the opportunity that Pop Religion books, movies, and texts are presenting, the Church is boarding up the doors and hoping to ride out the swirling winds of questions and interest. Too bad they aren’t realizing that these questions are an invitation to engage in discussion and teaching, not just a challenge to the Church’s authority.

In the end Tom Hanks, Dan Brown, or any other anthropologist, writer, or historian isn’t the Anti-Christ. In fact, if used properly to stimulate an open debate and inclusionary nature in the Church, they could in fact be part of Christianity’s salvation. And after all, we all know the position of Anti-Christ has already been filled – by Chuck Woolery.

Opportunity is knocking. But will the Church finally answer its call or keep the door barred?

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved