Category Archives: Lifestyle (MC Archive)

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

Whither or Wither the CBC? Look to Quebec for Inspiration

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By Jason Menard

Black Monday has come and gone. The axe has swung and the jobs of 33 TV and radio public relations employees have been lopped off in its swath. Yet, this is clearly a case of cutting off the nose to spite the face, because the CBC’s problems run much deeper than ineffective public relations.

The Canadian Broadcasting Commission – its English wing — has been at a crossroads for years, ineffectively balancing the desire to be both an educator and an entertainer. But now it’s long past time to pick a lane and stick to it, because trying to be something to everyone has resulted in the CBC being nothing to most.

Oh, how it pains me to say this, but maybe it’s time for the CBC to stop presenting Canadian shows simply because they’re Canadian, and let the strong survive. OK, here we go: Canadian Content regulations are bad. They need to be stopped, and the CBC needs to be at the vanguard of this change.

Whew, that feels better. And I don’t feel less patriotic at all. The fact of the matter is that CanCon regulations encourage mediocrity. Why aspire to create a better show, or why try to make something entertaining when you’ll get your exposure and funding as long as you can show you’re from the Great White North?

The CBC and the CRTC’s CanCon regulations are intended to improve and support our Canadian artistic community. What they end up doing is providing it a crutch upon which to lean and, as such, so why would one learn how to walk on their own when there’s no need? Well, that’s if the CBC would actually show a Canadian drama.

Dr. Who ? Coronation Street? What, did we get recolonized? Is it part of the Commonwealth agreement that we have to show British shows each and every evening? Then, in Prime Time, we’re inundated with mini-series, movies, and the odd Canadian drama. What? Have we given up the fight already? Is the competition from the American networks, CTV, and Global so stiff that they give up already?

If that’s the case, why even keep up the pretense of being a viable commercial entity and simply go the route of PBS? And is there anything wrong with that? PBS has a dedicated, passionate viewership that actually invests itself into the station. If the CBC has given up the fight against its commercial brethren, would this not be a better alternative for our Public Broadcaster? Not everyone has to play on the same field. Let CTV and Global continue to brand themselves as nothing more than American extensions into the Great White North (even the most noted CanCon, the wildly – an inexplicably – popular Canadian Idol, is just a cheap knock-off of the American, and British, phenomenon) and the CBC can merrily go on its way and explore the best and brightest of Canadiana, without the pressures or expectations brought about by those middling ratings and advertising requirements.

In fact, we’re already there to a large extent. Some people wear the CBC like a badge of honour. They intersperse their conversations with references to the witticisms uttered on Radio One, or they giddily recount a skit presented on the Mercer Report – usually to an audience of blank stares. Maybe those CBC viewers can commiserate with their US counterparts who regale their colleagues with the latest discovery outlined on Nova to a less-than-enthusiastic response. It has become a niche broadcaster trying to appeal to a mass market.

But, better yet, why doesn’t CBC English try to compete against the commercial big boys? The CBC can turn its attention east and look to its French language sister station, Radio-Canada, for inspiration. They’ve actually developed buzz-worthy shows including: La Fureur, a karaoke-style competition that features noted Quebecois artists; Toute le Monde en Parle, an entertaining talk show that Ralph Benmergui and Alan Thicke could only dream of hosting; and Virginie, a soap opera that ISN’T imported from England!!!

The key thing that SRC has been able to do is encourage the development of a French-Canadian star system. Sure, at times it seems that every film, every TV show, and every radio drive-time show is filled with the same people, but these people are supported by the community. Their images are plastered all over the province’s entertainment magazines, and their shows and films are wildly successful.

And SRC doesn’t need no stinkin’ CRTC regulations. Even if the CanCon restrictions were lifted, that doesn’t mean that the airwaves would be flooded with imports from France. Quebec-produced shows would continue to survive and flourish because the viewers enjoy not only the stars involved in the show, but the quality and excitement of the shows.

It’s not a question of highbrow versus lowbrow, because SRC – and its sister news station RDI – also produce a tonne of exciting, dynamic, and informative news and magazine-style programs that appeal to an intellectually stimulated demographic. They truly do offer something for everyone and they’re not afraid to push the edges of the envelope. Whereas, the CBC seems to want to do anything it can to avoid offending the ex-pats or the conservative (small c, please) taxpayer.

The CBC needs to be effectively edgy, and by that I mean it needs to create shows and personalities that appeal to the targeted demographic. There are few things worse than seeing an advertisement aimed at today’s youth that just butchers the rap genre, simply because some stuffed suit decided that he or she could “get down with the kids,” and provide them with something “from the street.” Maybe if the street we’re talking about is Sussex Drive, but not when you’re trying to appeal to today’s media-savvy generation.

Commercial success for the CBC can be done – all they need to do is brush up on their French and tune in. Of course, even if they did make these changes for the better, who would be left to promote it?

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Do We Say Beat It to a Thriller?

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By Jason Menard

Is it still OK to like Michael Jackson? That decision will probably be made once a jury of his peers renders a verdict on allegations of inappropriate activities with children? But the question is should a guilty or innocent decision make a difference?

To a large extent in our society celebrities are given a get out of jail free card, cashing in on the goodwill generated by their various talents. Our admiration for their abilities also seems to foster an exaggerated gift of the benefit of doubt.

We live in a society where one is presumed innocent until proven guilty. But, let’s face it, if the average guy showed up on TV, proudly boasting that he sleeps with young boys – but there’s nothing untoward about it, chances are we’d be avoiding this guy like the plague. And I know that my son wouldn’t be having any overnighters at the guy’s house.

And that’s the general reaction we’d have for the average Joe. Not the eccentric, changes-his-face-more-often-than-Paul-Martin-changes-his-mind, former child prodigy that is Michael Jackson.

But, behind the trial, behind the eccentricities, behind the media furor lies an artist and his art. And it’s the appreciation of this art that may be irretrievably lost in all of this, if it hasn’t already been damaged beyond repair.

Is it still OK to like Michael Jackson? The difficulty of this question is magnified by the simple fact that there are two ways to read it. Are we discussing Michael Jackson, the man, who is alleged to have personal demons that are reprehensible to society as a whole? Or are we looking at Michael Jackson, the industry, and a body of work and expressed talent that has rarely been seen.

I’ll admit it — I own Thriller. And I know there are at least one or two of you out there that do to, seeing as he’s sold about a kagillion copies of this album. As a child of the 80’s I grew up listening to his music, watching his talent manifest itself in ways that I had never seen. Listening to his work with the Jackson Five introduced me to the wonderful world of Motown. His performance at Motown’s 25 th – where he unveiled the Moonwalk and tossed his hat into the crowd – is an image I’ll never forget. Heck, I even owned a Glitter Glove!

But will that legacy of music, the influence he’s had on a generation of performers who followed, the innovation he displayed in his music videos, be tainted should a guilty verdict be rendered? Do we retroactively diminish superhuman achievement in light of less-than-human behaviour?

A case can be made in the affirmative when we look at O.J. Simpson. Not guilty criminally, but found culpable in a civil court, The Juice is looked upon as a pariah as he continues his search for The Real Killers in the bunkers and on the fairways of North America. And, while it’s easy to dismiss his talents on the Silver Screen, we accomplishments on the gridiron are now in question. Undoubtedly one of the great running backs of his time, it takes a brave sportswriter to acknowledge his talent in a public forum.

However, our celebrity worship also takes us to the other extreme. When rape allegations against Kobe Bryant were first brought to the fore, thousands of ravenous supporters rallied to his side. These people knew nothing more about Kobe than what they saw on the court, or what his public relations consultants and advertising contracts showcased, but they were willing to throw their wholehearted support behind him! I don’t think these people would do the same for the average guy in their community charged with rape – in fact, they’d probably trot out the old “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire” adage and presume guilt.

As our society is increasingly exposed to the trials and tribulations of celebrity justice, so too will this issue have to be addressed. If Robert Blake is convicted of murdering his wife, does that change how we view his performance in In Cold Blood? Yet, modern rap artists gain welcome street cred for behaviour that we’d vilify in the general public.

When it comes to art, should it matter whether or not we approve of the artist? Does singing along to Bad mean that I tacitly support alleged pedophilia? Were my childhood attempts at doing the Moonwalk the subconscious modern equivalent of goose-stepping in time with a malevolent leader? Is all the good brought about by We Are the World lost by allegations of reprehensible behaviour?

I’d argue that’s not the case. It is not a case of the ends justifying the means. In fact, one should have nothing to do with the other. If Michael Jackson is convicted, then he should be locked up and left to dance his way around the general population of Cell Block 1. And the only singing we should hear from him is at his parole review. But regardless of the outcome, our appreciation of his past musical achievements shouldn’t be coloured by our opinion of the man. The art should be separate from the artist – but I have a feeling that won’t be the case.

Perhaps the Jackson trial will set the benchmark for how future popular opinion will be defined. And, in the future, we may have to hold off on our appreciation of our favourite artists until enough time has elapsed to ensure that there are no skeletons waiting to fall out of their closet.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Aging — It’s as Plain as the Nose on Your Face

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By Jason Menard

It finally happened. The last, slender thread that tied me to the thought of youthfulness has been severed. And the instrument that finally cut the cord? A nose-hair trimmer.

I’ve jumped the shark. Really, when you’ve made the purchase of something to remove what is delicately referred to as “unsightly hair,” there’s no turning back. Although I’m not yet at the point where I’m buying sans-a-belt slacks that come up over my navel, I’m certainly much closer today than I was last week.

Physically, I’m still young – or youngish, at least. At only 31 I really don’t have a right to be complaining about aging. In fact, those of you older than me are probably thinking – rightfully so – that I should quit my bellyachin’ and be happy with what I’ve got.

And I am… It’s just that an emotional threshold has been crossed. I’ve had friends who found turning 30 difficult, but I was not one of them. At 30 – and even at 31, until what I’d like to refer to as the Remington Incident – I embraced my youthfulness. But now, emotionally, I’ve come to a crossroads in my life. It seems that getting to the point where shaving and hair cuts are no longer enough in terms of grooming is nature’s way of letting you know where you stand.

I handled the graying at the temples with aplomb, turning to Maurice Richard for inspiration (“I keep a touch of gray at the sides – my wife likes it!) I battled the bulge and am now in better physical shape than I was at 21. And while marriage and two children have matured me, I was still able to retain a semblance of youthfulness in my mind.

But now that’s changed – and it all started so innocently. Recently, walking through one of those ubiquitous grocery store/mega stores looking for a hair dryer I picked up a “personal trimmer,” and looked at it with amusement. That was, at least, until my wife peered over my shoulder and said, “That’s a great idea, you should get one of those!”

Now, I’ve never been overly hirsute. I’ve never been afflicted with the monobrow and my back is relatively free of hair. Sure, I’ve got chest hair but nothing out of the ordinary. And maybe my 5:00 shadow tends to show up a little earlier. I’ve been able to make jokes about my appearance for years – saying the wisps of hair that grace my neckline are, in fact, reinforcements on the way to battle the receding hair line! But when my wife suggested that I was in need of extra grooming, I was a bit taken aback.

I tried to laugh it off, but she persisted, her delicate finger pointing towards my previously pristine (or so I thought) proboscis. It was at that moment, with a simple gesture of caring for my appearance that those last vestiges of youthfulness drifted away. I had reached the point of no return.

Really, I should have seen it coming. If I haven’t fully embraced the concept of metrosexuality, I am aware of it presence and I don’t go out of my way to ignore its teachings. I’ve watched Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and taken a few mental notes. But I was blinded by this follicular revelation.

In fact, my wife’s even tried to gracefully prepare me for this moment. A few months back, she caught sight of an overly-ambitious eyebrow hair that didn’t know its place in life. I had always assumed that eyebrows were like a little socialist collective – all working together on an equal level to do whatever their job it is to do. But no, one decided to aspire to be something greater than it was – perhaps looking for a promotion to the scalp – and needed to be plucked. And there, I thought I was done.

But no, The Remington Incident (as I type this, it’s growing in importance to me – hence the capitalization of the T) begat the savage pillaging of the facial hair. It seems my socialist collective of eyebrows spawned a few breakaway republics which just didn’t do. And my wife, seeing my acquiescence to the concept of more fastidious personal grooming, leapt upon me with tweezers in hand.

Alas, I can see this is just the beginning of another – much more painful — stage in my life. If I can adjust to the concept of self-inflicted pain (is there no better way to remove hair than forcefully plucking it from its happy home?), I can adjust to my transition out of youth.

Because now the nose knows the truth. We go through many stages of life, many of which we mark in terms of achievements: a first day at school, getting your drivers’ licence, voting, a first home – but maybe a better indicator of where we are is as plain as the nose hair on our face!

And don’t think I haven’t started to keep an eye on my ears – I’m not ready for a mid-life crisis just yet!

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

A Fighting Chance

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By Jason Menard

As a father, I can only imagine the pain Strathroy’s John Melo is feeling today, grieving the loss of his son Joshua, who took his own life – with bullying named the catalyst for his action.

Bullying is rampant in our schools – and our schools are ill-equipped to handle it. In fact, many schools have instituted a hands-off policy, the concept of which my wife and I fully support. However, a concept and its reality can be far different things. Essentially, what educational hands-off policies encompass is a zero-tolerance approach to violence and physical aggression. One punch and you’re out.

The hands-off policy has brought a different form of bullying to the fore. Now, more than the realized action of violence, the perceived threat of violence and intimidation are the preferred tactics of bullies. What hands-off policies tend to breed is a refuge for more subtle forms of bullying: veiled threats, intimidation, implied violence, and ostracizing run almost unchecked, with little recourse for the victims of this situation. While there’s an increased awareness of the social and emotional ramifications of bullying within the school system, the current system, as it exists, ends up protecting the aggressors and further victimizing the victimized.

As adults we tend to overrationalize the problems faced by our children. What seems clear to us, illuminated by the wisdom of experience and perspective, is not so clear to our youth. While adults can understand that these threats are nothing more than a cry for attention, or braggadocio covering up the bully’s insecurities and fears, to our children these threats are real and present threats to their physical and emotional well being.

I’ve seen some kids’ frustration with their situation. Up until a certain age, kids just aren’t equipped with the mental and emotional maturity to diffuse situations with intellectual tools like negotiation, humour, or dialogue. Rather, they’re more impulsive, conflicted in their thought processes, and incapable of resolving their emotions in a mature way.

So what do they do? They either become sullen and reclusive, or they lash out – but with the hands-off policy, they are punished for striking back against their aggressors, while the bullies get off scot-free. And as much as students and administrators encourage students to come forward with their concerns and fears, few if any students will do so out of fear of being branded a “squealer” or “tattle-tale.” Parental intervention often does more harm than good as well, as the child then becomes a target for having other people fighting their battles (the irony of which is that these bullies often travel in packs, having older children as their muscle.)

Bullying also is not simply restricted to the schoolyard. While threats may not be carried out on the playground, the victims of bullying carry the fear that they could be confronted on their way home from school, in their neighbourhood, or at their park. While the hands-off policies may discourage violence on the school property, they have little effect on the outside world.

So what are we to do? If a school embraces a hands-off policy and is vigilant in its execution, it must be equally, if not more so, vigilant in the proactive curtailment of intimidation. A verbal threat must be treated with the same response as if a punch was thrown, and teachers and administrators must be increasingly vigilant about actively looking for these situations. Threatening another student should eventually result in suspensions, parents should be immediately notified about their children’s aggressive behaviour, and consequences must be set in place to discourage this type of activity.

It’s a lot of work, but it needs to be done. When I was in school, you dealt with bullies in one of two ways, you either turned tail and ran or you stood your ground and fought. There was a clear line and there were no shades of grey. Obviously a return to this type of frontier justice is neither desired or warranted.

However, if we truly want to embrace a hands-off policy and make our schools a safe haven for social and educational development, then we need to do a better job of making sure that all our students stand – pardon the expression – a fighting chance.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

‘Tis the Season to be…?

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By Jason Menard

I give up. I can’t keep up the façade any longer. It’s barely mid-month and the Christmas spirit has been beaten out of me.

The culprit – Christmas songs.

It all started so innocently. Back in November, I’d walk through a store and off in the distance I’d hear the faint strains of something holly and jolly. At the time, it struck me as odd, but I shrugged it off. After all, I love the holiday season, and these first few melodies were akin to seeing the first robin of spring – a pleasant harbinger of things to come. Little did I know that first metaphorical robin would turn into a Hitchcockian nightmare.

Little by little, the songs crept up on me: in the malls, on the radio in my car, on the canned music at work. At first, they were pleasant distractions from the everyday, but slowly, surreptitiously, they grew in number and frequency to the point where I can’t move without being exposed to another Christmas song.

And then it finally dawned on me. There are too many Christmas songs!

As a society, we need to declare a moratorium on any new holiday songs. Maybe we can set up an independent tribunal that determines whether a new submission can be added to the canon of Holiday classics.

In fact, new Christmas songs wouldn’t bother me – what drives me around the bend is the fact that every artist enjoying their 15 minutes of fame feels the need to add their distinctive stamp to holiday classics – and not so classics – of the past. And instead of having some fun, they take themselves too seriously, ululating their way through these songs as if to show that their particular vocal gymnastics have created the definitive rendition of a particular song.

Head out to the discount racks of your local music store and you’ll be able to sift through the wreckage of failed careers – consider it a seasonal cultural anthropology project! They say that every snowflake is unique – well, maybe the same concept should be extended to the music of the season. That way, we won’t be buried in an avalanche of barely distinguishable music.

Now, I’m really not old enough to state that the holidays begin and end with Bing Crosby! Or, maybe we’ll let that Burl Ives fellow slip through. But I am old enough to be confident in saying that we didn’t need Celine Dion to cover Feliz Navidad – Mr. Feliciano handled that quite nicely the first time around.

And just because people feel the need to churn out this holiday drivel, it doesn’t mean we have to listen to it! Just because our Canadian or American Idol of the moment chooses to stave off the inevitable descent into obscurity by issuing a collection of holiday “classics,” doesn’t mean that our radio DJs need to come salivating like Pavlovian reindeer to the trough!

There are just not enough hours in the day to play the overwhelming catalogue of Christmas songs. Yet, in an attempt as futile as my attempts to fasten my belt after Christmas dinner, our various music outlets continue to try and squeeze more and more bad music into the day!

We lament the lack of Christmas spirit these days. And one of the first places we point to is the mall – where angry customers clash with frustrated vendors. We are quick to blame the beleaguered sales staff without realizing that they are working in an environment where this music rotates incessantly! That’s got to have an effect on your psyche.

Christmas is a special time of year. But for more and more of us, hearing a Christmas song results less in a smile and more in an audible groan. We have CanCon regulations that strictly restrict the allowable content on our radio stations – why can we not put the CRTC to an effective use and restrict the number of holiday songs we hear in a given year.

Let’s say no Christmas carols until Dec. 15 th or after the first snowfall that sticks! No more than one song per 10 on rotation in retail and commercial environments. And no Celine Dion – but that’s more of a personal preference, nothing else.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved