Category Archives: Lifestyle (MC Archive)

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

Brewing Up a Health Conundrum

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By Jason Menard

You know, I really do want to do right for myself when it comes to making sensible choices for healthy eating and drinking. But when trying to do right may end up being wrong, it’s almost enough to make one dehydrate themselves out of spite.

Take, for example, my recent attempt at converting to green tea. Now, I’m not a band-wagon jumper and I refuse to jump on somebody else’s train and from craze to craze based upon the latest headline. But, I figure, millions of green tea devotees can’t be wrong. Back in my university day, I was up to an obscenely high number of cups of coffee a day. Although I quit cold turkey, I have bounced back to a cup-a-day habit – certainly not unhealthy, but I wanted to do better!

So, like the person who stumbles across the Backstreet Boys in the discount rack and, after a listen, looks back wistfully to an opportunity lost, I obtained my first box of green tea. Feeling slightly poseurish and mildly conformist, I brewed my first cup. And, after swallowing my pride and convincing myself that following the masses in the quest for a better life is an acceptable form of populism, I took my first sip.

And I hated it.

Same thing with the second sip. Unpleasant sips numbers three and four were chased by equally vile sips five and six. And on and on it went until I reached the grainy, cooled-by-delaying bottom of the cup.

However, instead of discounting it outright, I chose to look back on the experience with the perspective of time. Maybe it’s an acquired taste – I couldn’t remember my first experience with coffee, but I can’t imagine it was as bad as this. After all, I wouldn’t have picked up another cup. So I chalked it up to a bad experience and committed to trying again.

Thinking perhaps it was my ability or the quality of the tea that I had, I chose to go to a more appropriate establishment, which will remain nameless, and decided to go upscale with a latté-based green tea product. With some enthusiasm balanced by more trepidation I watched – or, more accurately, was unable to watch — as the barista worked in secret behind the machine, infusing my beverage with melon flavouring, whipping, foaming, and presenting it to me. All of this hullabaloo is, of course, an affront to my black coffee sensibilities, but I decided to remain open-minded.

Let’s just say the mind slammed shut the second I tasted it. Oh, I tried to prop it open with a few more sips, trying to convince myself that I could actually, possibly, in the right mood, enjoy its sweetness. But it was to no avail. Perhaps a fitting parallel to my personality, the beverage was just too sweet for me to stomach and didn’t contain enough bitterness.

But don’t be sad for that fine coffee product. It found a home in one of my co-workers. I guess if I can’t improve my health, then I could play the medicinal Marco Polo bringing green tea to the masses.

Overall, I’ve been successful in my conversion to a healthier lifestyle. I gave up my beloved sugary soft drinks for its caffeine-free, somewhat flavour-free, diet version. I cut out salt and processed foods and added healthier alternatives and seasonings without batting an eye or offending my palate. I lost weight, lowered my triglycerides, and have managed to keep it off.

Yet a switch to green tea is beyond my reach. And that may not be so bad. In fact, just this week the United States’ Food and Drug Administration rejected allowing green tea vendors to make the claim that it reduces the risk of heart disease, based upon lack of evidence. This falls in line with the organization’s previous decision to reject claims of cancer-prevention properties.

Ironically, antioxidants can be found in acceptable quantities in my black coffee. So maybe while others were chasing the elusive green tea leaf, I and my other java-inspired brethren were on the right track. Then again, in six years coffee may be on the outs and Juan Valdez could be branded a medicinal pariah in the face of the newest research on the health benefits of spruce beer! We can never tell what the future will bring.

All we can do is do the best we can and be satisfied with our effort to improve ourselves. The one thing that will never go out of style is a healthy attitude – no matter whether you choose to kick start it with coffee or green tea!

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Future of Radio – Less Rock, More Talk

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By Jason Menard

To paraphrase Mark Twain, the reports of radio’s death have been greatly exaggerated. But the future of radio may, in fact, involve a twist on the old saying: tomorrow’s radio will be less rock and more talk!

With all due apologies to the Electric Light Orchestra, rama-lama-lama rock and roll won’t be king, but rather content will rule the airwaves. And the savvy broadcaster that invests now in developing locally relevant content will find themselves at the vanguard of the next generation of radio.

The Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission recently released statistics showing that revenues and profits are rising for Canadian commercial radio. According to the report FM radio revenues grew by 11.8% in 2005 over the previous year to a little over one billion dollars. FM’s profit before interest and taxes also increased by 19.6% over the same period, from $220.3 million to $263.3 million. And while revenues for AM radio decreased by 0.7% year over year, their profit before interest and taxes rose four-fold from $3.4 million in 2004 to $13.6 million in 2005.

However, instead of resting on its laurels and patting itself on its back, commercial radio should invest those resources back into one word: talk.

The question exists as to how radio will be able to compete with the onslaught of next-generation technologies that currently exist and threaten to eat away at marketshare. Already a generation that has grown up thinking that the Sony Walkman is a relic have embraced the idea of plugging in their I-Pod into their car stereo and programming their own music.

The place to be to hear the latest artists won’t be on-air, but rather on-line, and radio must realize that the model of free music distributed over the airwaves is one that just can’t last. When listeners have the option to direct their musical experience as opposed to being dictated to by some program director, it’s clear as to which path future generations will take.

But the one thing that the Internet can’t replicate is content. The AM model, which relies heavily on talk and analysis, ironically will be the one left standing. Personalities, perspectives, and information will lead the way, more than the latest band or track. As our world continues to shrink and people have the news of the world literally at their fingertips, the move towards local perspective and analysis will be a natural progression.

Many so-called local stations actually import a significant amount of their content from abroad. In Canada, many of our stations pull from not just major media centres like Toronto or Montreal, but their syndicated content originates from the United States. And while that model may be cost-effective in the short run, it’s a myopic view of developing market share and listener fidelity.

If the listener wants to hear Toronto radio or a show originating in Los Angeles, they can either jump on the satellite bandwagon, listen to streaming broadcasts on-line, or subscribe to podcasts. What radio stations must do to set themselves apart is create dynamic, engaging broadcasts that leverage the local flavour, talent, and perspective.

Unfortunately for the station manager or program director whose jobs are predicated on ratings in the here and now, return-on-investment is a concept that can drown out all other ideas. Putting money into developing programming for the future is a wonderful idea, but the fact of the matter is that the return on those dollars may not come for a few years into the future.

But perhaps that future investment can be offset by opening new revenue streams that have, to date, been sadly undervalued. Many stations do offer an on-line, streaming version of their broadcast content. However, the advertisements remain local. Where is the foresight to approach advertisers specifically based upon the on-line demographics.

In many cities, ex-pats flock on-line to listen to a taste of home. So why not approach service providers and vendors that either export local products or offer services like travel and hotel accommodations to those interested in coming back and visiting family. The Internet is more than just a delivery method – it’s an entirely underutilized revenue stream that can open up previously untapped advertising budgets.

No matter how small the world gets, the idea of ‘there’s no place like home’ resonates within us all. Local content, local perspective, and local talent distilling the changing world down to a level that means something to local listeners is the future of the industry.

The gravy train that the industry is riding now can derail quickly without those steering it having an idea of what the future conditions are going to be like. Now the question is are those at the controls willing to turn the wheel and take control of their direction, or are they going to plow straight ahead into an uncertain future?

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Ignorance Not Just an American Trait

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By Jason Menard

Har-dee-har! A recent survey reported on by the Associated Press shows that Americans are geographically challenged. And while it’s certainly tempting to sit on our high horse and chuckle over our dunderheaded friends to the south, in many ways, we’re no better.

The survey of 510 people interviewed in December 2005 and January 2006 showed that one-third of the respondents couldn’t find Louisiana on a map – despite the recent blanket coverage of Hurricane Katrina. On top of that, only 14 per cent believe speaking another language is a necessary skill, 60 per cent couldn’t find Iraq on a map of the Middle East, and almost half couldn’t find the Indian subcontinent on a map of Asia.

Time to guffaw right? Hey, what about that episode of Oprah recently that cast its supercilious eye on the education system in the U.S. and juxtaposed American students and their counterparts in the Far East reciting the first five American Presidents. Guess which group fared well.

But, as President Bush once so aptly put, “Fool me once, shame on, shame on you. Fool me – you can’t get fooled again.”

Are we truly any better? We like to think that we are, but is it really true. While we love to show how enlightened we are by displaying our understanding and knowledge of American history and politics, how well do we know our own country?

Quick, name the first five Canadian Prime Ministers. Can you do it? Chances are you could name off Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe before you could ever nail Canada’s first five. OK, Sir. John A. is a given. And you’ll get double points for noting that he served twice. But really, did you honestly get Mackenzie, Abbott, Thompson, and Bowell? If you did you’re a better Canadian than I, because I had to look them up. Hell, I’m proud that I know who Charles Tupper is, but don’t ask me when he served.

We grow up learning an overview of Canadian history. We go over the three Cs of Canadiana: Cabot, Cartier, and Champlain. We cruise through the War of 1812, we learn about the British North America Act and Confederation. But does the average Canadian know any more about his or her own country than our neighbours to the south?

As Canadians, we often mock Americans as being almost xenophobic in their analysis of history. If it ain’t red, white, and blue, it doesn’t matter to you appears to be the model. But in a classic example of what it is to be a Canadian, we focus more on the history south of the 49 th than we ever do our own history. We complain when we’re ignored on the global stage, but we ignore the stories we’ve penned in our own back yard.

We externalize. We validate ourselves by what others think about us, as opposed to how we feel. That’s why we take such an active interest in the world around us – we’re desperate to make sure we’re a player on the global stage. Our ability to find other countries on the map reeks more of desperation than a commitment to intellectual pursuits.

Whether it’s Canadian TV, music, film, history, or even — to an extent – politics, we need outsiders to validate our experience. Say what you want about what the Americans don’t know about the world. There’s certainly a lot we can learn from them about appreciating what you have on your own.

That’s not to say the American model is ideal. There should be a balance between national pride and global awareness. Ignorance in any form should not be tolerated. We should strive to learn more – more about the people around us, their languages, their cultures, and their history, in addition to all the things that have made our country great.

However, the high horse that we’re sitting on rocks violently. Our glee in reveling in American ignorance only masks the lack of introspection we’ve undertaken in examining our own faults. We’re no better, no worse – in fact, we’re the same in a different way. If the Americans are the noisy neighbours who come and go as they please, party all night, and generally disrespect even the existence of those who live around them, we Canadians are no better in being the neighbour that runs around to everyone’s home, snootily making comments, while our own home and family is neglected.

As the old adage states, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones – especially when we don’t even know who built the house we live in.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Follicular Follies More Like Hair Horror

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By Jason Menard

If ever someone decides I need to be punished, may I suggest forgoing the electric chair – any chair at a nearby hair-cutting establishment will suffice.

Normally, I’m fairly vocal in expressing both my preferences and my displeasures, but when it comes to hair cuts, I clam up and watch silently as untold horrors are wreaked upon my follicles. Maybe it’s the proximity of razor-sharp implements to areas I consider vital, such as the eyes, ears, and windpipe, that keeps me quiet. But I know I’m not alone.

I’m usually good in social situations. While I don’t seek them out, I engage in conversation casually and with dexterity. I consider myself knowledgeable about a wide range of topics and feel confident in my ability to express an opinion based upon fact and personal conviction. But that ability appears to get sucked out of me the second that little smock gets wrapped around my neck – its clasp the visual representation of my internal chains that render me helpless.

Trust me, there’s no Fabio-esque long-flowing locks here. I have the definition of low-maintenance hair. In fact, I only recently emerged from the 1980s and gave up the discount bin-dwelling, little-used gel for the more expensive – and contemporary — “product.” Something that goes by the name of moulding putty. I step out of the shadow, tussle it a little to encourage it to return to its upright position, and go. That said, there’s not too much one can do to my hair.

It’s straight. I mean, straighter than straight. You could calibrate instruments off of just one strand, because there’s absolutely no deviation or curl. And it’s fine, so there’s even less to deal with. Yet still, my head seems to be a magnet for hairstylist mistakes. In fact, I’m pretty sure the head mannequins used in beginner hair styling courses are modeled after my cranium.

Yet still every venture to get my hair cut ends in tragedy. And for this indignity I still feel obligated to leave a tip! I once had a regular barber whom I liked. I went to him for two years before we moved away. And, even though he prefaced my pre-Christmas haircut by sharing a 10:00 a.m. round of Ouzo shots, I trusted him.

My most recent venture into the chair of nightmares commenced with a debate about what clipper size I wanted to start with. My best hair cut (and, due to its rarity, I remember it fondly) involved me using a 2 1/2-sized clipper. Now, I’ve tried to replicate this request in other establishments and it appears that location was in some mystical netherworld where dreams can be realized because everyone else looks at me like I’ve asked them the question in Aramaic. Perhaps the key is to bring Mel Gibson with me – or simply ask Mel where he gets his hair done…

So, after settling for a 3, the next five minutes progressed with the futile search for the elusive size. Apparently, the same demon that gets my socks absconded with the 3, and I was strongly recommended to try a 2. As I watched the pale flesh tones slowly reveal themselves through their salt-and-pepper curtain, I realized that this was yet another chapter in the horror novel of hair.

Conversation was stilted as she apparently was at the same time both interested in penning my biography and avoiding actually listening to the answers I’ve given. I understand disinterest – after all, the feeling was mutual – yet at least feign interest or allow me to undergo my suffering in respectful silence.

The cut itself turned out OK and I remained optimistic that there would be a light at the end of this tunnel – until the moment the gel was broken out. Before I could utter a word – not that I’m sure I would have – I was Gel-saulted. Drenching what limited hair I had left in a mountain of gel that would have Pat Riley blushing, I was sent out into the world looking all the more like a wet cat.

And if that weren’t bad enough, the gel rapidly hardened on my head, like that chocolate coating on ice cream, leaving me with a lid that looked and felt suspiciously like Butch Goring’s mid-80’s helmet.

I survived to tell the tale, and I continue to search for that elusive Holy Grail – the good hair cut. Until then, I will bow my head in shame, or at least put on a hat.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Capitol Punishment? Hardly

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By Jason Menard

You don’t know what it’s got until it’s gone. The old adage rings true, and it’s all the more evident when long-standing representations of London’s past are scheduled to be torn down.

However, don’t blame the imminent destruction of the Capitol Theatre downtown on progress – blame it on lack of interest from Londoners at large. Heritage buildings are great to celebrate, but they must be living ties to a vibrant past – not hollow reminders of days gone by.

I have the same issue with Heritage buildings that I do with dried flowers. Both are beautiful and vibrant when alive – but when dried they become withered and gutted shells of their former glory.

Eventually enough is enough. There’s no point in simply preserving buildings for nostalgia’s sake. And there’s certainly no doubt that there’s been ample time for someone to step up and make something of the old theatre – its “Opening Soon” marquee has been around so long, it’s become a joke to look at.

The sad fact of the matter is that interest is just not there. No one is willing to step forward and do something to preserve the building. And we have to face facts that if public will is not there, then we have to let it go.

While the building may fall, the memories will live on in those who ever went to the theatre. From nights out with friends, to movies only partly seen because of “extracurricular activities” many Londoners will cherish those memories and hold them close to their heart. Walking past such a decrepit building only devalues those remembrances by framing them on a stage that casts the memories in shadow.

There are other ways of remembering a building. I personally own a wonderful book that examines the photographic history of Montreal. What’s equally interesting as what’s remained the same is what’s changed. One can chart the progress and development of a city through its architecture.

Now, while a parking lot may not be the fitting epitaph for the Capitol theatre, perhaps it’s a harbinger of things to come. Since no one appears to be willing to make the old building a living part of the downtown’s future, at least it will no longer be a roadblock on the way to future success and prosperity.

That’s not to say that creative things can’t be done to retain those links to our past. One has to look no further than the remnants of the Talbot Block and how they were incorporated into the façade of the John Labatt Centre. Other examples are found in the recasting of a Queen St. church into the offices of a Internet consulting company or the turning of the barracks and the Banting home into living museums.

In the end, the theatre will prove to be as transitory as the films it once showed, simply due to the fact that no one was willing to step up and invest in revitalizing it. And there’s really nothing wrong with that. The one thing about the past is that you can never recapture it. Forcing it to stay against its will only leads to resentment and neglect amongst those whose future dreams are stymied by an overzealous grasp on the past.

The other issue is that there is only a limited amount of money available in the pot to be shared. We can’t expect to be everything to everyone, so we have to accept that some things will fall by the wayside. We need to identify our key buildings and invest in them, instead of throwing bad money after good, just to keep buildings that the public at large has not shown the requisite interest in maintaining.

Instead of scurrying around, popping out sound bites whenever another Heritage building is on the chopping block, those truly interested in the past need to be far more proactive in preserving these historical ties. It’s not simply about bestowing Heritage designation on buildings, it’s about having the foresight and creativity to ensure that these buildings remain a viable and participatory member of the community. Whether it’s through the creation of museums, maintaining facades for business use, or any number of other applications, simply preserving buildings isn’t enough – revitalizing them must be a priority.

When the Capitol finally does come crumbling down, it will be a fitting death for a once-stately London building. And the Capitol certainly does deserve to be remembered as something more than a down-trodden, boarded-up shell of what it once was.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved