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Don wonders how it is that Bill isn’t excited about the new movie “Cowboys and Aliens.” As well, the boys talk over the NFL’s new deal, the passing of Amy Winehouse, Canada’s tarnished image as a peacekeeper, the Winnipeg Jets’ new logo and the debt ceiling fiasco in the United States.
The Don Valley Parkway, Toronto, Ont. July 21, 2011. 4:48 pm.
My apologies if this version of “The Nutshell” is a little shorter. It’s just too hot to type. Maybe if I moved my computer inside from the top of my barbecue. It’s just that, no one on tv told me I shouldn’t word process in this heat, so I guess it’s okay. I mean, they CONSTANTLY remind you to put on sunscreen, stay hydrated and look for a place where you can cool off, but no mention of not blogging on the top of your barbecue. So, I’ll keep going. Seriously. Could everyone on TV, in radio and in print STOP telling us we need to wear sunscreen, drink water, find shade and “not overdo it”? Or, are there really people out there who would forget to drink something if they feel thirsty?
A guy on tv said we could go and cool off at “one of Toronto’s 3 world-class water parks.” I didn’t even know there were different classes of water parks. And we’ve got three WORLD-CLASS ones? Suck on that, Paris. Eat it, New York City. Hey, London, how many world-class water parks are you rockin’? Thought so. Go cool off in “the tube,” or something.
Weather guy put a block of ice on the station parking lot last night, as an experiment. He did some weather, then the camera came back to that block of ice a wee bit later. There was a slightly smaller block of ice there, with a small puddle of water underneath it. It was melting. Oh, my, look what the heat can do. Important to remember, folks. If you’re taking your pet block of ice for a walk in this weather, first slather it with some sunscreen. And keep it hydrated. Oh, and for God’s sake, don’t let that block of ice overdo it.
SPORTS
Tiger and Steve. "Misty, water-hazard memories..."
Tiger Woods dumped his long-time caddie, Steve Williams. Big mistake, Eldrick. What if Steve decides to write a tell-all book and you come out looking… never mind.
Yesterday marked the 100th anniversary of the birth of Canadian super-brain, Marshall McLuhan. All he did was predict the internet 30 years before it happened. He also predicted that the continued advancements in communication would shrink the planet into a global village. He DID NOT predict that Twitter would unleash legions of “Global Village Idiots” on us. Well, maybe he did. Meantime, I chatted with McLuhan’s son, Michael, and tried to track down Marshall’s old couch, yesterday. You can read about it in my blog: “Where is Marshall McLuhan’s Couch?”
President Obama auctions off the state of Delaware at a debt-ceiling charity dinner.
With the temperatures soaring on Thursday, all trains in Toronto had to travel much more slowly, because the heat was so great, it actually expanded the rails. This meant that gravy deliveries to City Hall were delayed. Not to mention that the heat curdled the gravy.
U.S. President Barack Obama gave a speech, today, on that country’s looming debt crisis. Said Obama, of the possibility of defaulting: “The United States doesn’t run out without paying the tab. We pay our bills.” Let’s hope so. Because you know that if they get evicted from their country, they’re all gonna need a place to stay. And we’re the rich relatives right now.
Global warming? More like global scorching. Or scalding. Hell, I don’t know. That’s it! Global helling.
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Funny how the dots sometimes get connected. I posted a tweet about Marshall McLuhan on this, the 100th anniversary of his birth. A friend of mine saw that tweet on Facebook. She sent me a message saying she knew McLuhan’s son, Michael, and that she’d once sat on McLuhan’s couch at a coffee shop, in Owen Sound. “Interesting,” I thought. “Wonder if that couch’s energy made anyone who sat on it instantly smarter. Or clairvoyant.”
Couple of clicks on the internet, a phone call from my cell (on which I pressed a little button and was able to record the conversation) and I had an interview with McLuhan’s son Michael.
Twitter. Facebook. Google. Cellphone. Internet blog. Voila. The mediums are the message. (The media are the messages would be grammatically correct, but not so clever, no?)
Marshall McLuhan. Bet he knew I'd write this blog.
Michael happened to be en route from the Owen Sound area, where he pursues his career as a photographer, to a Toronto event marking the anniversary of his famous father’s birth.
“Is it true,” I asked him, that one of your dad’s old couches made it’s way to a coffee shop in Owen Sound?”
“It was actually the couch out of the livingroom,” he replied, with a chuckle.
It was pretty old and beat up so I actually put it out on the curb for pick-up. I’d thought of recovering it at one time, but it was quite costly. But, the landlord of the coffee shop came by and suggested he could find a really warm and loving home for it, so that’s where it went.
I paused. I felt excited. I actually felt like I wanted to go and sit on Marshall McLuhan’s old couch and, yes, would drive to Owen Sound to do it.
“Is it still there?”
“According to my wife, it’s not there any more.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” I replied.
“No, it was pretty old and ratty, you know? It was 50 years old. I’d put it in the basement for the kids to romp on.”
Stymied. Can’t hope to receive any magical, prophetic insights from the cushions upon which the great thinker had once sat. Obviously, that couch was much more a symbol for me than it was for Michael. “It was just a couch, you know?”
Just a couch. And I suppose Marshall was “just a dad.” More on that couch later. First, some of Michael’s insights into his father, merely one of the greatest thinkers in communications history.
Could Marshall McLuhan have envisioned Twitter?
“Absolutely. Twitter is a Marshall McLuhan phenomenon.”
Michael McLuhan: ""It was just a couch."
When we think of McLuhan, two phrases immediately come to mind: “Global village” and “medium is the message.” At one time, they were called, or characterized, as theories or possibilities. Or even bunk, as was certainly thought by more than a handful of McLuhan’s contemporaries. For Michael, his father’s assertions never were in question.
“I’ve always seen it as a statement of fact, and not a theory. He wasn’t a futurist, by any means. He said in order to perceive the future one only has to live in the present. Problem with most people is they live in the past.”
Michael McLuhan feels some frustration surrounding the mythology of his famous father.
“There are a few things that are different from the public persona. In terms of the last couple of biographies…they’re picturing him as a more eccentric, if not nuts sort of person. He was very sane. He was very kind, very loving and very generous. He was very loyal to his friends. I think it’s wise for the world at large to go with the scholarship that’s out there, in terms of his work, and ignore a lot of the peripheral crap.”
Did the chattering naysayers bother his father?
“It was something that he was quite used to living with. Did it make him happy? No. But if his work wasn’t infuriating people, then he wasn’t doing his job.”
The conversation wound back toward the object of my obsession, the old couch. Did McLuhan allow his family to, as many of us do, perch on the old chesterfield and watch some boob tube?
“Of course he did. We watched television as a family. We gathered around the tv almost every night when I was a kid.”
Hard-hitting news, documentaries and brain food of that ilk?
“Perry Mason, Have Gun Will Travel, Car 54 Where Are You?, The Ed Sullivan Show… I don’t think there were a lot of news and documentary shows on at that time…late 50’s, early 60’s.”
Marshall McLuhan’s esteem for the visual medium (McLuhan would admonish me for that, he declared it a medium of audio and that the visual was less important) began to wane, says his son.
“By the late 60’s and early 70’s, he had a lower and lower opinion of television. He did move the TV into the basement. But all the kids had left home by then.”
Still, one can’t help but notice the possible symbolism of that move.
After my conversation with Michael, I’m not deterred. Maybe his wife is wrong. Maybe that couch is still there. So, I called The Bean Cellar, in Owen Sound, and spoke to the owner, Kay Robinson. Heartbreak. And hope.
“No, it’s not here, anymore. We had it for 3 or 4 years, but it’s gone.”
The Bean Cellar: Is it there?! Is it there?!
“It was a tacky, blue, floral patterned couch, in pretty rough condition. I’m sure it was wonderful in it’s day, but it was pretty worn out. “But I wanted it because of what it was, who it belonged to.”
Did she think the couch had any special karma?
“My then future daughter-in-law thought it was special. She was going to university at the time and did many assignments sitting on that couch because it made her feel inspired.”
Yes. The medium IS the message. In this case, the medium being a 50-something year old blue floral couch. Still out there. Still being honoured for what it is and for the man and family it once belonged to. Because Kay told me she didn’t trash that couch.
However, she can’t remember who got it. Just that it was someone who wanted it, like her, because of what it is and who it belonged to.
Somewhere in this great global village, Marshall McLuhan’s old family couch lives on. But where? Can the social media that he predicted, and exists today, help me find it? Tweet me. Facebook me. Email me. Get me on LinkedIn…. You know what?
We should dispense with all those “verbs.” Whenever we want someone to contact us, we should simply say “McLuhan me.”
Because the man knew the message.
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This week, the boys try to beat the heat. Or, more precisely, complain about it. Don thinks there’s an opportunity for weather greatness, while Bill can’t see it. The Rupert Murdoch pie is a topic of discussion, as are Argo Quarterback Cleo Lemon, Jays’ great Robbie Alomar and aggressive drivers. As well, the attraction of Darren Clarke, the greatness of Marshall McLuhan and…can you beat “Echo Beach?”
The player to be named later? Maybe he'd offer Bautista a little protection in the batting order.
"Am I delighted to be here? And how."
Where Rob Ford might fit in, I haven’t quite figured out yet. Can he sing? We know he can dance. Proved it at the launch for the festival formerly known as Caribana. (Scroll down the page in that link a bit to see the video) The mayor danced with some fully costumed flamboyant revellers. Kinda like the Pride Parade. Bet he’s sorry he missed that now. At any rate, if he joins the Canadian version of Village People, we can rewrite the lyrics to their signature hit “YMCA” for him. “It’s fun to REE-move the Jaaaar-vis bike lanes, it’s fun to REE-move the – uh, Jaaarvis bike lay-anes….” I grant you, forming a letter “B” with your body wouldn’t be easy.
"Owling." Where's a rampaging bull when you really need one?
Headline: “Toronto Overtakes Vancouver As Canada’s Most Expensive City.” I think Vancouver was slowed by bridge traffic.
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This time around, Bill and Don talk over what Major league baseball’s responsibilities are with regards to fan safety. As well, they wrap their brains around bike lanes, raccoons, Rupert Murdoch’s shame, Stephen Harper’s new name, and the importance of the Brady Bunch. Pulled pork parfaits, running with the bulls and trying NOT to get kicked off St. Andrews are also on the topics list this week.
Doobie, or not doobie?
I, myself, am a little conflicted on the issue. It seems to me that if Shakespeare smoked pot, his most famous soliloquy would actually have read: “To be or not to be….ummm…what was the question?” However, let’s dig deeper and explore the possibilities. I can easily make the case that Shakespeare was often high, without having to disturb his 400 year slumber. A floating dagger, Faeries (I believe that is the correct Shakespearean spelling), a donkey-headed man…. Hello, yeah, had to be the dope. In Romeo and Juliet: “What light through yonder window breaks….” It WAS Juliet, but probably the glow off her spliff. King Lear wasn’t mad when he took a stroll in the storm, it was just a bad trip. When Lady Macbeth cried “out damned spot…” she probably had just dropped an ash on the bedspread. Don’t even get me started on “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” That’s just one long, long, continuous bong hit. Maybe it’s just much ado about puffing. Mr. Thackeray, if you really want to investigate a dead writer’s drug habits, go with Dickens. Had a character named Marley in “A Christmas Carol.”
"What the hell? I thought we shut down Weiner's Congressional Twitter account."
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This week, Don and Bill tackle the Argos’ “controversial” ads, Brian Burke’s trip to Afghanistan and the Casey Anthony trial. As well, their thoughts on refurbishing Yonge Street, the most romantic subway stop in Toronto and Ron Artest’s name change. Oh, and Don wonders why anyone would want to dig up Shakespeare to see if he was a pot smoker. Seriously.
Well, I finally broke down and decided to watch what has become a somewhat legendary interview conducted by Krista Erickson, of Sun TV. Hope Krista doesn’t mind me using the term “conducted,” considering her well-worn animus towards highbrow art. Hope broadcasters don’t mind me using the word “interview,” which this, at times, was clearly not. An interview, to me, is an exchange of views. Often during this back-and-forth, Erickson chose not to listen to too much of an answer from interpretive dancer Margie Gillis.
The premise, basically, was a discussion of federal arts funding. If you’ve not seen the interview, you can here.
Okay, maybe it was the build up. Maybe anything that is pumped and pumped and pumped is doomed to be a big letdown. Or maybe I just have a different view of what a train wreck of an interview is. But, after seeing the video I was left with one, overwhelming thought: Why is everybody so agitated by this interview? More than 4,300 people have taken the time to lodge a formal complaint about this bit of TV treasure to the Canadian Broadcast Standards Council. Apparently, they usually get a total of about 2,000 a year.
Why are you complaining about this, I thought as I watched the show unfold. I’ve seen and heard worse. Way worse than this. Was it because Erickson was rude? Obnoxious? Because you don’t agree with the tenor (sorry again, Krista, for using an artistic term) of her views? Fine, I’m with you on all counts. But the nature of her behaviour and that of the exchange fall far, far short of the threshold where I would actually be moved to lodge a formal complaint. For long periods of time, Erickson did a terrible job of interviewing. She wasn’t interested in anything but looking tough for her bosses and fans. That’s where the interview devolved into an embarrassing quagmire of over speak, with the two of them talking at the same time. But that wasn’t Gillis’ fault. It was Erickson’s. Gillis was just trying to answer a question or two when the host decided she didn’t want to hear an answer or two. That’s just bad interviewing. At one point, Erickson admonished her subject for trying to get a word in edgewise, saying the two of them talking at the same time was serving no one. I actually laughed out loud. Gillis reacted with a look reminiscent of Alice’s when she first set foot in Wonderland. The difference being that the characters in Wonderland are less cartoonish than the one Erickson was playing. In fairness, she did settle down in the second portion of the conversation, allowing Gillis plenty of room for free-range answering. There’s an actual question-answer rhythm at that point.
I had another laugh out loud moment during this interview. Erickson plays a clip of Gillis, from a documentary, where Gillis says:
We were, I thought, a compassionate society.I don’t think that way any more. No, we’re good at masking things, we’re good at not taking responsibility, now. That’s deeply sad to me.
Huh. Quite a statement. Quite a general, wide-ranging statement. I know I’d like to know what she means by that. Could she be more specific? Well, we didn’t get that. Instead, Erickson loaded her barrels with the kind of so-called “gotcha” journalism decried by the likes of Sarah Palin. Her reply:
Were we not compassionate in 2008 when we gave you fifty thousand dollars…a personal grant that you received, the Walter Carson prize…and were we not compassionate, let’s just say, in the fiscal year 2009, when taxpayers gave you and your foundation a grant for a hundred and five thousand dollars and, again, that only represents a small portion of the money that you have received from taxpayers over the course of your career…so, what is it about Canadians that they’re lacking compassion, exactly? One point two million dollars isn’t enough compassion for you?
That’s the point where I was glad I wasn’t taking a sip of coffee, or it may just have ended up on the screen. Just after that, I shook my head at the absurdity of the position that Gillis shouldn’t say Canadians aren’t compassionate when “more than 150 soldiers” have been killed in Afghanistan. Of course, that had, likely, nothing to do with the topic at hand and, at best, served as a very clumsy non sequitur. Gillis’ remarks were worth exploring, with plenty of time to be sanctimonious, if warranted, after that exploration. Brings me to an all too familiar and unfortunate modus operandi in broadcasting today. A propensity for “tough, tell-it-like-it-is ” hosts and interviewers to tell a guest what they mean after an answer lacking in detail, instead of asking what they mean. That’s simply because they’ve decided on the narrative, beforehand, and will adhere to it no matter what. That’s fine and all. But it just feels like bad theatre when it happens.
Heated discussion is fair game, and Gillis had to know that she was placing her head in the lion’s jaws when she agreed to do the interview. Yes, heated discussion is fair game, even essential, at times. It can help forward a larger conversation with naked, honest viewpoint. But the important thing to remember in that, is the conversation portion.
Shouting down your opponent, cutting them off or belittling their views can be important ingredients in passionate discussion. But, only if they come from a place of integrity and honest emotion. And only if they form just a part of the equation. When they take over, as Erickson let – no, decided – they would, the honest-to-God, heartfelt intersection of opposing viewpoints can and do become a tiresome, annoying, absurdly comical farce.
That’s a big problem in broadcasting, these days. Too many are too bent on antagonism, at all costs. That has made for a landscape littered with, if not dominated by a kind of phony tension and faux indignation. What used to be compelling because it was rare, is fast becoming annoying and roll-your-eyes dull, because it is more and more usual.
No, I don’t agree with the general thrust of Erickson’s belligerent interrogation. She had points to make and decided her blunt-force questions were more important than the answers they might incur, at times. I have a problem with that. Not because I disagree with her point of view. Because I’m so damn tired of the template.
Winners here? Erickson. Her bosses will love the publicity. Gillis. She came off as well-mannered and assured. Probably even won some sympathy for the arts community. The loser? Good broadcasting, plain and simple.
But, it doesn’t rise to a level where regulator participation is necessary. Not even close.
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