Category Archives: Lifestyle (MC Archive)

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

Lest We Forget?

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By Jason Menard

Let we forget. That plaintive admonition from our forefathers seems to be getting drowned out by the din of modern society and, unless things change soon, threatens to be silenced.

As we approach Remembrance Day, our collective attention is supposed to be turned towards those men and women who fought for our beliefs and ideals in the Great War, WWII, and the Korean War. Yet, for more and more people – especially the younger generations — those conflicts are rapidly distancing themselves from our present-day reality.

In my own case, the only direct links I have to Remembrance Day observances are my grandfathers – one of whom passed away in my youth, and the other of whom I never knew. My own children have no direct experience. Will Remembrance Day mean anything to them as they grow up?

My fear is that the answer will be no, unless we do something about it. We need more than a poppy on a lapel or on a coin – we need to embrace Remembrance Day as a country and pass our passion, appreciation, and knowledge on to future generations.

Although many of our veterans survived horrors beyond comprehension, tragically we are rapidly losing them to the one battle from which there is no victory. Fewer and fewer WWII veterans remain with us today, and in the not-to-distant future it’s not hard to see that those living links to our past will be broken. And with their passing, so goes the living history that’s at the root of Remembrance Day observances.

We face a number of problems, not the least of which is that we live in a disposable society. Modern-day conflicts are lamented, and just as quickly forgotten. Horrors like the Chechen school invasion are featured on CNN for 24-hours a day, and then just as quickly forgotten when the next story breaks. How can we, as a society, expect to remember wars that many of us have no direct ties to when we can’t even remember what happened last week?

Add to that the fact that war has been sanitized and edited for broadcast on the nightly news. The horrors of sending wave upon wave of soldiers from the trench to their death is incomprehensible to those growing up with remote-control wars! The majority of Canadians just don’t have the first-hand experience of what’s it’s like to have many of their friends and family go overseas never to return.

Is this all bad? Not when you consider that the price for this disconnect has been years of peace. It’s getting harder and harder to remember conflict because we’ve been blessed with years without it directly affecting our country. But, as the old adage states, those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.

We need to remember the horrors of war, instead of treating it as entertainment. Movies and video games depicting ‘realistic’ warfare are proliferating, but where are the real stories of tragedy? Where is the compassion for the families that were irrevocably altered by armed conflicts? Where is the commitment to honouring the brave men and women that gave so much of their lives for us?

A couple of years back I was in Montreal for Remembrance Day. I left my office and walked the two blocks to the cenotaph for the 11:00 ceremony. There I was joined by a handful of veterans, a smattering of others, and nobody else my age. With easily over 100,000 people within walking distance, this was the best we could do.

In fact, how many of people in their 30s and below even know where the local cenotaph is? We grew up wearing our poppies, going to school assemblies to hear Taps, and making wreaths out of tissue paper. And what has that left us with?

Recent generations have gone through the motions without understanding the movement. We must change that pattern before Remembrance Day becomes simply another empty gesture that will eventually fade into the mists of time.

Where do we start? Ideally, a national holiday on Remembrance Day would be welcome. A day wherein families can participate in memorials, visit monuments, or lay a wreath at a cenotaph. But we all know that even if it was a holiday, too many would treat it with no significance – after all, how many celebrate Victoria Day compared to those that celebrate ‘The 2-4’?

We need to do a better job as parents to educate our children about our past. We need our schools to take an active role in focusing curriculum on what Remembrance Day truly is. Instead of wasting time with empty symbols, we need to learn from those precious few veterans we have left. We need to record their stories — and those of their families – so that future generations can reflect upon their sacrifices.

Most of all, we need to make Remembrance Day matter again. Our veterans’ courage, sacrifice, and passion for our country has to be worth more than a quarter with a poppy on it.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Just Let Me Talk to a Real Person

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By Jason Menard

Ah remember the good ol’ days – when we simply had to follow a labyrinth-like maze of touch-tone commands to not get the service we required. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d look back fondly on those days, but the latest round of “customer service improvements” has proven the old adage that you have to be careful what you wish for!

If you’re like me, you’ve probably called your (insert service name here – cable, telephone, retail company) and been frustrated by the finger calisthenics required to get even a most basic question answered. Perhaps your phone’s “0” button is worn down from constant bashing of it to try to get to talk to someone, anyone!

And our refrain during these days? ‘Just let me talk to a real person!’

Our service providers heard the call and have replied! But instead of providing a proper receptionist, the powers-that-be have decided to go one better and offer ‘humanesque’ service. That’s right, automated service with that human touch! All the benefits of social interaction without those unnecessary encumbrances like a heart, a pulse – or a brain!

Oh, how I miss the brain part of the equation. I consider myself fairly eloquent. I speak with no discernable accent (depending on your point of view – I speak with the general tonality, affection, and vernacular of the average North-eastern North American male), and, when I call, I have a solid idea of what I’m looking for and the capability of expressing myself accordingly.

Now, thanks to my interaction with these ‘human-lite’ directory systems I wonder if I’m the moron or is the machine? I prefer to think the latter.

Take, for instance, a recent conversation I ‘shared’ with my phone company’s automated system. In this case, I was calling to cancel a scheduled repair appointment.

PC: Hi, I’m [fake name withheld to protect the moronic]. Why don’t you tell me what your issue is and I’ll help connect you to the right department!

Jay: I’d like to cancel a service call.

PC: Hi, I’m… [apparently I need to be told twice]

Jay: I have a scheduled service call that I need to cancel.

PC: Hi, I’m… [OK, maybe it’s a particularly bad day…]

Jay: Service call cancellation

PC: Oh, you’d like to cancel your phone service! [Quite the leap of faith here. Although, may I say, at this point I was considering it…]

Jay: No! I would like to cancel a service call because we won’t be home to answer the door when a real person – unlike you – shows up to do the repairs!

PC: Hi, I’m…

At that point, I think I bruised my fingers pounding down on the ‘0’ button. Worst of all, this was not an isolated incident. In fact no matter how basic I make the commands, and at times I’ve sounded like Tarzan on painkillers: “TV No Work!” “Need Telephone To Ring!” I still can’t seem to get through to these people – oh, sorry, ‘people.’

Yes, I know I asked to talk to someone in the past, but apparently the message – not unlike the telephone directories – got mixed up in the translation. I, and others like me, want to talk to a REAL person! Someone who can understand my clear English and point me in the right direction. Or at least someone who doesn’t send me off to the farthest recesses of the company on a wild goose chase.

What these companies seem to fail to recognize is that I’m willing to accept a few problems here and there with my services. Our world isn’t perfect, so why should I expect that from my digital cable? The connection is broken? Fine, fix it so I can get back to my life.

But what I don’t want is to spend 15 minutes on the phone trying to find the secret word combination that unlocks the door to the world of good customer service! I left my decoder ring at home, please give me a break.

I’d say that 99% of us call with a complaint, but are not overly stressed about it. However, after spending way too much quality time with the ‘human-like’ answering service my inner Lou Ferrigno takes over from my original Bill Bixby state. So, when those magic words are spoken and we actually get a human response, instead of getting a mildly miffed, but willing-to-work-with-you customer on the line these companies are getting ticked-off, belligerent – and unhappy – subscribers who are now considering their options.

Give me a human or give me a machine, but never the twain shall meet!

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

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

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

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