Category Archives: Lifestyle (MC Archive)

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

Music for the Ages

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By Jason Menard

Sometimes it takes a new set of ears to remind you how powerful music can be – and how it can move your soul.

That new set of ears came from my five-year-old daughter. On the weekend, as I was cleaning the basement – that new mess, of course, also came from my five-year-old daughter with a healthy assist from her 12-year-old brother – I decided to break up the monotony by putting on a CD.

Compounding the fact that I was dating myself with that aging format – I find the MP3 format seems so cold – I decided to delve into my personal archives for a long-lost friend. The band doesn’t matter, but it’s safe to say that I haven’t heard them in over a decade. But as the first ballad on the CD played, my daughter perked up and came to me, arms extended, asking to dance.

As we danced, I thought about how powerful music truly is. How it can create such a heartwarming memory, and how it can literally help define who we are. That night, my daughter asked for that same CD as her nighttime music – and, with just a few chords, our common bond was strengthened again.

My daughter loves music. She sings all day. Whether it’s the songs she’s learning at school or the latest hits on radio, music is a big part of her life – just as it was for me.

But as we age, that passion for music seems to fade. As a youth, in my teenage years, my friends and I used music to define who we were – and, more importantly, who we weren’t. While others were listening to the Top-40 songs that saturated the airwaves, we were delving into our past to find music with meaning. I suppose, in a way, we were looking for depth in our music to make up for our relative lack of depth in life experience.

While others were listening to dance and pop, I was delving into Elvis, The Beatles, and Bob Dylan. Some were content to Fight for their Right to Party, while I was reliving a counter-culture youth I never experienced with Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. I chose The Cure, The Clash, and The Smiths, over The The.

I was deep. Even if growing up in a middle-class, suburban environment left me as deep as a puddle in reality, my music showed the world that I got it! I understood the world and wasn’t going to conform.

Then something funny happened. I grew up – and I started tuning out.

That same syntho-techno dance crap that I would rail against actually turned out to be pretty good. Those 80’s cheese songs that I thought were the bane of my existence actually turned out to be pretty damn fun to sing along to. And I stopped defining myself by what I listened to, choosing instead to define myself by who I am.

In essence, music no longer defined who I was. It was simply a part of my life. I didn’t need to be the tortured poet or the whimsical bard. I could simply be Jay. And if I find the new Avril Lavigne or Nelly Furtado song catchy, then who am I to second-guess? There’s no Sex Pistols’ credibility card out there – and it certainly wouldn’t be revoked if I’m caught bouncing my head to pop radio. Grandmaster Flash, NWA, and Public Enemy won’t turn their backs on me because I’m singing along with the flavour-of-the-month Hip Hop artist today.

Heck, even Parliament/Funkadelic wouldn’t begrudge listening to Justin Tim… well, on second thought, not even I’m ready to go there.

Looking back on it, the depth that I was conscribing from my music has been displaced by my life-earned knowledge and wisdom. Before I was searching for music that I could relate to, that I could play as a calling card exclaiming to the world “Here I am, here’s who I want to be.” Now, I am who I am and I’ll let that speak for itself.

We spend so much time in our adult lives searching for pleasure, it seems like such a waste when we deny ourselves a full range of musical enjoyment in our youth. But that’s just a fact of life, I guess. It’s a part of maturing. As youth, we define ourselves by those with whom we associate – for better or for worse.

In the end, I’ve found that those who are most prone to criticizing things that are popular or, even worse, not obscure enough, are usually those who are most apt to define themselves by their influences. Instead, I’d prefer to define myself by who I influence – and that starts with raising quality, generous, intelligent children.

Of course, if I can start them off with a few solid bands to help them find there way, well then there’s no harm in that? After all, eventually they’ll just tune them out and be themselves – defined by who they are, not what they listen to.

2007© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

My Pocket Picked by a Mouse

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By Jason Menard

Mar. 2, 2007 — Call CrimeStoppers, I’ve had my pocket picked! The culprit? A short, dark male with a propensity for wearing red pants and no shirt. He has overly large ears and a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

Aiding this crime were his female accomplice, an unintelligible duck – who should be approached with caution because his frothing at the mouth may indicate rabies – and a large, clumsy dog with an aw-shucks countenance and limited cognitive abilities. Amazingly, these clever bandits made off with my money while I was sitting in the comfort of my own home, as the real scene of the crime took place when my wife, daughter, and mother attended the recent Disney on Ice spectacle at the John Labatt Centre.

But let’s not blame Disney alone as this gang wasn’t alone in perpetrating the crime – the management of the local arena was more than a willing conspirator.

There is an expectation, at any event, that you will pay a premium for items and memorabilia. Like at amusement parks and sporting events, people are more willing to part with their hard-earned money once they’ve become caught up in the atmosphere. But the combination of over-the-top pricing and preying on small children is something that, while it fills the company’s coffers, should leave the recipients with an empty feeling.

In the end it may have been cheaper to take my family to Disneyworld , especially after considering the $15 program, the $20 wand, the $4.50 beverages, and the $10 popcorn — $10 for something that probably costs 30 cents in kernels. And we complain about movie theatre prices!

Now, the argument will be that you don’t have to buy these things, and that a simple no is enough. And we, as parents, do our best to show our kids what can and can’t be done on limited resources. Although all children will ask for everything, we try to show that you can’t have everything, and that things need to be saved up for or budgeted. We say no far, far more often than we say yes.

But at a celebration, specifically targeted to young children, you can forgive any parent for wanted to maximize the enjoyment. What seems like a cheap piece of plastic with flashing lights to an adult is, in essence, a magical experience for a young girl. To us, it’s a toy wand, to her it’s the embodiment of her dreams and a tool to use to create future memories and experiences. They say there’s no price you can put on those memories, but these cash-grabbers are certainly doing their best wring out every last dollar.

Unfortunately, the prices charged are only reflective of what the market will bear. If people weren’t willing to shell out these exorbitant rates, then they wouldn’t charge them. But there’s a subtle difference between fair market value for a product that’s targeted towards an adult, and what’s considered fair when your demographic is under the age of 10. And while parents have a responsibility to their own budgets, marketers abdicate any responsibility towards not exploit the dreams and imaginations of the youth that propel their product.

It’s not a matter of parents feeling that not buying something for their children makes them lesser parents, but rather it’s a desire to accentuate the experience by having something tangible to take home with you (or, in the case of the $4.50 Diet Coke, having something to ward off dehydration…) It’s a matter of helping to make memories last and being able to afford to do so.

The thing is, there is no legal obligation for producers and venue owners to change their price structure – it can be argued that there is only a moral one. If they can justify charging $20 for $3 worth of cheap plastic and circuitry, then so be it – they’re not alone in the market for inflating the value of their products. And, yes, adults should take a stand and fight back against price gouging. But must that stand be taken upon the foundation of our children’s imaginations?

And let’s not just base this argument on the consumer end. There are plenty of reasons why shows like this – and the venues that host them – should re-evaluate their pricing. First, the tangible: by lowering your prices, you would increase consumption. There have been many times I’ve heard people walk away from concessions and booths without spending a dime because the prices are too high. By lowering the prices a bit, while still respecting the margin, you would increase the number of consumers taking action. The key is to find that right balance to maximize profits – the same type of math we learned in high school.

Secondly, the intangible – and, by far, the most important. In large part, people aren’t offended by the total they spent, they’re irate at the individual prices. By providing better value-priced merchandise, you’ll stimulate spending, while leaving people with a better feeling about their purchases. They’ll feel they’ve received value for their dollar and will be more willing to return for subsequent events, thereby creating a self-perpetuating, steady source of reliable income. If morality doesn’t sway you, then cold hard business should.

In the end, yes, I was robbed (and thank goodness for generous grandparents – who were also robbed), but it’s an inflated price I – along with many other parents – am begrudgingly willing to pay to help my children live their dreams.

2007© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Losing My Appetite for Destruction

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By Jason Menard

Which will come first the Guns N’ Roses album Chinese Democracy or the actual advent of true Chinese Democracy in the communist nation? But perhaps the better question is while we all care about the latter, does anyone care about the former.

I mean, really, Guns N’ Roses? I’m 33 and my memory of them is fading, so how can they compete in a market that’s already focusing on finding the next thing – not resurrecting the ghosts of fading rockers. Or should we say fading rocker? Because, in truth, the new Guns N’ Roses is nothing more than an Axl Rose vanity project. Slash is long gone… the other guys that you also don’t remember are gone, and in their place are a couple of guys who seemingly have no shame – or at least don’t mind appropriating the name that someone else built.

Yes, to no one’s surprise, the album Chinese Democracy, which was scheduled to be released in March is, once again, off the schedule. At this point, it’s probably safer for all involved just to flush the recordings down the toilet and call it a night, because nothing’s going to live up to 10 years of expectations.

Well, maybe we should qualify the term expectations. After all, is there anyone out there who thinks this album is going to be any good? Most memorable records – and I know I’m dating myself with this terminology – are reflective of a certain era or moment in time. They capture the cultural zeitgeist and translate it into an aural experience that transcends cultures, beliefs, and styles. Memorable music is such that it allows individuals to feel that they’re sharing a common experience, in the here and now, which allows them to find something to which they can relate in the music.

So when an album takes over a decade to record, can there truly be any cohesiveness? Will tracks on this new album already be dated due to the fact that, perhaps, they were penned three or four boy-band cycles ago?

Oh, by the way, did I mention 21 members? A quick search of the Wikipedia – admittedly, not the most reliable source of information, but certainly au courant when it comes to pop culture – shows that there are and have been 21 current and former members of the band. When that many parts have been interchanged, can it even be considered the same entity anymore? Or is Guns N’ Roses nothing more than Lee Majors’ Steve Austin with an amp?

Admittedly, I’m not the biggest G N’ R fan. I enjoyed Appetite for Destruction as a high schooler and will still sing along to some of the standards from that album like Sweet Child O’ Mine. And I liked the next couple of albums. But that was then, this is now. I don’t feel the need to find out what Axl thinks right now – I didn’t even care much then.

Over a decade’s worth of expectations have been built up. Even if Chinese Democracy was a modern-day White Album, there’s no possible way that it could live up to the amount of time it took to bring it to masses.

So what’s the alternative? In this case, perhaps the music not heard could grow in stature until it reaches the status of urban legend. If the band burned the masters now, then stories could start circulating from those privy to the studio sessions who could say that the music was unlike anything ever heard. Axl Rose could become the musical equivalent of J.D. Salinger! After all, many myths exist about the one great book that Salinger is sitting on in his self-exile – one that will never see the light of day after his death. Really, even if gold drips off the pages while you read it, no printed word could leave a more indelible imprint on one’s mind than what your own imagination has crafted to fill the void.

So too should it be for Chinese Democracy. Instead of releasing what’s sure to be a disappointment and staining the band’s legacy (kind of like what’s happened to Paul McCartney with his recent string of less-than-memorable releases) Axl and the boys should take solace that they were big once and not tamper with those memories.

And if absence truly does make the heart grow fonder, then the band – and its never-to-be-released album – could reach icon status just by doing what everyone else in the world has done – give up on the album ever seeing the light of day.

2007© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Are We Losing Our Appetite for Celebrity Schadenfreude?

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By Jason Menard

How much is too much? And when does our penchant for engaging in schadenfreude take a back seat to our base level of humanity? Will Britney Spears be that test case?

As we all know, Britney’s been on a one-way slope downwards. From the heights of a pop starlet career to her current Hare Krishna-inspired hair style and guest appearances at rehabilitation clinics, the meteoric descent of her career has been evident for all to see. In fact, we can’t even blame her much maligned ex-husband for this fall.

It’s all Britney, all day, and we’re watching. But our perspective, slowly, seems to be changing.

Normally society loves nothing more to build people up for a fall. And if this person is raised artificially – whether it’s artificial talents, artificial looks, artificial breasts – we seem to love nothing more than watching them plummet back down to reality. Yet this time there’s something different.

Dare I say it? We actually seem to feel sorry for Britney. We actually seem to care.

Well, some of us do. There are the hyper-cynical bloggers and commentators who get off on being insensitive. But that’s an immature reaction to a problem with maturity. We’re watching a little girl lost and that seems to have resonated with people who normally wouldn’t think twice about watching a starlet fall.

Take, for example, Craig Ferguson, the host of the Late, Late Show – better known to many as The Drew Carey Show’s Nigel Wick – put a moratorium on Britney Spears jokes. “ I’m starting to feel uncomfortable about making fun of these people. And for me, comedy should have a certain amount of joy in it. Attacking the politicians and the Trumps and the blowhards, go after them. We shouldn’t be attacking the vulnerable people.”

Wow, a heart. And you know what, he’s right. There’s nothing wrong with celebrity bashing or comedy when it’s perpetrated against those who are on top of their game, but it’s something different when we all stand around like spectators watching someone who is so evidently crying out for help, and instead of lending a hand we heap further scorn upon them.

Maybe it’s an addiction, maybe it’s post-partum depression, maybe there are issues to which we’re not privy. But the main thing is that there’s something obviously wrong with this girl and to derive pleasure from it is no better than mocking someone for a mental disability, their skin colour, or their religion. All it does is send the person further and further into despair – and the way the end game plays out could be tragic.

Take, for example, Anna Nicole Smith? Anybody surprised she met an untimely fate at a young age? What about the skeletal remains of people like Nicole Richie or Kate Bosworth – do we need a Karen Carpenter redux to see the problem?

Ultimately, the responsibility lies with the people themselves foremost, then with their friends and family. Unfortunately, these celebrities often find themselves surrounded by sycophants and yes-men, looking only to leech of their star-power and suck them dry before moving on with their lives, leaving only a spent shell of the person in their wake.

But we, as a consuming public, need to take our share of the responsibility. The good works that some celebrities undertake are shrouded in ignorance because we care more about the latest bedroom scandal or display of nonsensical behaviour. We’re so focused on the negative that we completely disregard the positive – so is it any surprise that these attention-starved people are willing to threaten their lives in return for public notoriety?

Maybe we need to take a cue from the stars of yesteryear, or more appropriately, the fans of the past. Sexual orientation, bedroom antics, personal habits weren’t a matter of daily consumption and discussion. What mattered were the work and the talent. We appreciated what they could do on vinyl or on the screen and the rest was ancillary information. Shockingly, we cared more about our own lives and those around us than we did of these stars with whom we had no personal involvement.

Of course, those days are long gone. The proliferation of tabloid magazines, television shows, and even full-scale channels dedicated to feeding our ravenous hunger for celebrity scandal shows that the market for schadenfreude is good.

But how many crashes, how many failures, and how many deaths will it take until our taste for this wanes? Or, as evidenced by our new-found sympathy for Britney Spears, has that already started to happen. We can only hope because any joy we get from watching these people crash doesn’t only impact the stars, but reflects horribly on us.

2007© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Exposure Key to Gay Acceptance

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By Jason Menard

Tim Hardaway just told it like it is. The question isn’t why should we be shocked that these attitudes towards homosexuals exist, but rather why should we think that attitudes have changed that much?

Say what you want about Hardaway’s comments, but the retired basketball player simply expressed his true feelings, without the layers of innuendo, politically correct speak, and evasion that so many others have. In response to a question regarding former NBA player John Amaeche’s recent announcement that he is gay, the retired point guard stated “I hate gays.”

He admitted that he was a homophobe and simply stated that he’d rather not associate with homosexuals. Forward thinking? No. Honest, yes. And you know what, I’d rather people who have these attitudes be honest and up front about them. At least then you know where they stand.

Homosexuality is the final frontier. It’s the last acceptable bastion of intolerance. Imagine what would have happened had the table been turned and a white player had said, in regards to Tim Hardaway, “I hate black people.” Sure, Hardaway’s been removed from any NBA public relations events, but that’s tantamount to a slap on the wrist.

I hate gays. That’s about as honest as can be. But what’s worse: Hardaway’s ill-informed, but heartfelt belief, or other statements like the gem that’s destined to live on in infamy uttered by Philadelphia 76ers forward Shavlik Randolph who said, “as long as you don’t bring your gayness on me that’s fine.” Or the half-assed argument levied by LeBron James who said it would be hard to trust a player who wasn’t honest about themselves and how that wouldn’t be conducive to a team dynamic.

It’s all a bunch of crap. It’s all intolerance and it’s all something that wouldn’t be tolerated by anyone if the issues were about colour or gender. But sexuality is our last taboo. And it’s not just in the testosterone-heavy sports world that we see this type of ignorance.

It’s on our school yards. One would have hoped things have progressed from the times in my youth where, in our fits of ignorance, we made jokes about this new disease about AIDS. We were young, we were struggling with our emerging sexualities, and the easiest way to ensure that you weren’t called a “fag” was to assert your masculinity through what’s tantamount to gay bashing. My son, in grade seven, has heard the same type of language bandied about in 2007. Fag, homo, queer are used as derogative terms in a way that racial epithets would never be tolerated.

Then we wonder why so few people come out?

And that’s part of the problem. People are afraid of what they don’t know. I can honestly say that I was never knowingly exposed to a gay person until I reached university. I know that’s probably not true, but I met the first person that I met who was “out” after high school. Since then, I’ve had the distinct pleasure to call many homosexuals my friends – not because they’re gay, but because they’re good people. Prior to that, I was the same as many others – joining in with gay jokes without thought of their consequence. After all, it’s easy to be insensitive when you haven’t been sensitized.

But since that time, I’ve met gay family members, friends, and associates. Their sexuality or mine has never been an issue. We would speak about our respective partners, mine being my wife, theirs being their boyfriend or girlfriend, as if there was nothing in the world strange about it – and the reason is because there is nothing in the world strange about it.

The unfortunate part is that the world around homosexuals is strange about them. Being gay isn’t catching. You either are or aren’t. I’ve seen homosexual couples kiss and yet never had the urge to find a guy to lock lips with. When gay marriage was made legal, it didn’t impact me in any way, shape, or form. I did not leave my wife in search of a same-sex union.

So why would playing sports with a gay teammate be any different? Having been in my share of locker rooms, both playing sports and covering them, I know that the behaviour displayed in there is certainly nothing that would be considered arousing. Put it this way: the gay guy in the locker room is probably not interested in the puerile, armpit-fart-noise making, towel-snapping, vulgar heterosexual teammate.

Yet there’s still this great fear – the fear of the unknown. But maybe that will change one day. Just as white people learned that there’s nothing wrong with associating with black people, so too maybe will heterosexuals learn that sexuality has nothing to do with how we interact. Sure, there will always be those who remain ignorant – just as there are those who hate people because of the colour of their skin or think that women are inferior to men just because of their genitalia. But maybe the rest of us can grow and learn.

On the playground, my son remains confused because his experience with homosexuals differs from what he hears on the playground. The anger and vitriol with which his friends characterize homosexuals doesn’t wash with his real-life experience with our friends and family members. And that won’t change until parents learn and share their experiences with their children. It’s all about education and familiarization.

Maybe we can learn to appreciate each other for what we are. And it starts with exposure. From musicians coming out, to TV actors, to sports athletes – when we that sexuality doesn’t have any impact on our icons’ ability to perform, then maybe we’ll get over this hang-up.

After all, whether it’s dribbling a basketball or filling out a report, the only thing that matters is your skills and talents – not who shares your bed at night.

2007© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved