Montreal Billboard

I’m stoked to be hosting a new show on Videotron’s MAtv channel! 

It's fun to be working in television again and rewarding to contribute to a show that connects the anglophone community of Greater Montreal with the often-times unsung non-profit groups making our community a better place to live.

I think it’s cool that Videotron is offering anglophone programming to the community it serves. At a news conference last week, it announced 20 per cent of MAtv programming is currently being devoted to English shows.

So far, we’ve taped and aired our first two "Montreal Billboard" shows. On our first two shows, we featured the NDG Food Depot, the Fabienne Colas Foundation, A Horse Tale, Big Brothers & Big Sisters of the West Island, AIDS Community Care Montreal and Skateboards for Hope. Some of these groups I had heard of before and others I had never heard of at all.

First guest of our first show: Daniel Rotman of NDG Food Depot

I’m going to enjoy meeting more special Montrealers who are clearly passionate about their causes and their city. For the people who bring these groups to life it's about the good, not the glory.

From the beginning, I thought the MAtv studio was bright and colorful. The crew has been terrific and I’ve had the pleasure of working with some team members before.

When we did the photo shoot for the show, MAtv had a stylist pick out the clothing and Ariane is the one who looks after wardrobe for the show. If I appear dressed more fashionably, that explains it!  She uses clothing supplied by show sponsor, Canada's iconic Hudson's Bay store. Kinda cool. It also explains the hankie you’ll see in my pocket. So far in my life, I must confess to being too lazy to coordinate a hankie with shirts, jackets and neckties.

Montreal Billboard is on seven days a week! The newly-taped shows air Monday and Tuesday and the rest of the week, they're repeated. To find show times, go to matv.ca, click "English" and go down to "My Shows". For viewers who are not on Videotron, you can find our shows on-line at matv.ca under the heading “Mes Emissions”.

If you’d like to get in touch with the show, please drop us a line at mtlbillboard@matv.ca

Classics Rule

Years ago, living on my own downtown, I always enjoyed watching old movies; the classics. I still do.

Last night, I watched “Till the Clouds Roll By”, a 1946 movie based on the life and music of American songwriter, Jerome Kern. I didn’t know his name before yesterday, even if I knew his music. In fact, “The Way You Look Tonight”, one of my favorite songs to sing, was written by Kern.

I’m not sure the televised version I performed for International Jazz Day did it justice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZQfz4ohDnk

The film, which got a little slow at the end, featured musical performances by Judy Garland, Lena Horne and Frank Sinatra, among others.

What an easy and fun way to casually learn about musical history, not to mention history in general.

We were recently sent a letter by our cable company, explaining NHL Network would be disappearing, so I lobbied successfully for the Silver Screen Classics channel as a replacement. Not only do classic movies allow me to appreciate North American film heritage, they show viewers many techniques, shots and story plots existed well before we became aware of them in newer movies. The classics also give movie fans a chance to compare today’s actors and actresses with the legends that came before them.

I’ve even got a soft spot for songs about old movies, like “Goodnight Mrs Calabash” by Ian Thomas and “Friends of Mr Cairo” by Jon and Vangelis.

Sunday night, I started watching “Love Affair”, the 1939 romantic film starring Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer. I had seen Boyer in the charming “Barefoot in the Park”, but wasn’t familiar with Dunne. I got hooked on the story. Unfortunately, the film, because of apparent technical problems, repeated segments twice and never showed the end of the story. Seeing it was scheduled again Monday morning, I watched, only to see it repeat again and abruptly stop before the end of the movie.

I had to go on-line to find out whether the characters, painter Michel Marnet and singer Terry McKay, end up together.

They do. Sigh.

Irene Dunne won the Oscar for Best Actress for her role in “Love Affair”. The film also won Oscars for Best Supporting Actress, Best Writing, Best Original Song and Best Art Direction.

Can I pick ‘em or what?

Oh, popcorn’s ready!

Little Moments

My sister-in-law was visiting recently. I had been tweeting about her willingness to walk with Susan; no ordinary feat - and, truthfully, no ordinary feet can keep up with our fitbit beast! During her visit, Susan's sister happily walked crazy distances in the middle of our stifling heat wave! I guess that's what sisterhood is all about.

At one point during her visit, and I'm not really sure how it came up, Lana admitted being very good at untangling knots. Susan promptly produced two pieces of jewellery that had knotted chains. One of the chains, Susan complained, had one knot in it and the other, had three. Bravely, her sister installed herself on the couch and began to tackle the problem.

In the end, Lana wasn't able to untangle the chains. She's gone back home now but the two chains were laying conspicuously on the kitchen table this morning. Casually, Susan expressed disappointment the tangles remained.

Not thinking rationally, perhaps driven by blind love for this wonderful woman with whom I just celebrated a 21st wedding anniversary, I hastily dug out a magnifying glass, two pins and as much patience as I could humanly ring from my mostly impatient personality.

Absolutely planless - that's without plan, strategy, or technique - I began to poke randomly with the two pins at the single knot chain. After a few minutes, I was able to loosen the strand and untangle the knot. I contemplated ending the quest there, to reign as the quasi-conquering pseudo-hero. Did I? No. I decided to persist and attacked the triple knot chain.

Idiot.

Susan left and went for a walk. I moved the operation to a surface lit by sunshine and, again, still planless, began poking randomly. After several minutes, I untangled one of the three knots. I contemplated ending the quest there, to appear as quasi-conquering pseudo-hero. Did I? No. I decided to persist. What fun would it be to boast, when Susan returned, that I'd succeeded in untangling one of the three remaining knots? Not very.

It would give me far greater pleasure to be able to announce, when Susan returned, her jewellery was completely knot-free, thanks to me.

Idiot.

I attacked the second of the three knots, planless, but foolishly encouraged that, so far, my success had not required a plan, or planning of any kind.

There was no one to hold the magnifying glass at the perfect height, so I had laid it across the rim of two tea cups.

I stabbed, poked, prodded and pierced and, after several minutes, I loosened the second of the three knots and, then, finally untangled it. What a boss!

Only the third knot, right beside the end clasp, remains.

I needed a break before tackling the final of the three knots! I went out and ran errands. My neck was sore from stooping, my fingertips tender from pressing the pins and my vision was blurring from staring so intently for so long at such small objects.

A couple of hours later, I returned to tackle the last of the three knots in this second chain. This knot was right up against the clasp at the end of the chain. Undaunted and planless, I hacked away for several minutes and finally got the chain to loosen. The final knot was gone. Boom!

It was not fun, although quite satisfying when I untangled the last of the four knots. I am the reigning quasi-conquering pseudo-hero, vanquisher of jewellery chain tangles and bearer of a very valuable lesson. Untangling jewellery knots is like assembling Ikea furniture; yes I can do it, but I never want to do it again. 

Susan came home and when I announced her two chains were knot-free, she was quite grateful. Little moments I live for.

Awkward

I’m three-quarters of the way down the street from our house. I have our household broom in my hands and I’m rather frantically sweeping the street! I’ve decided the broom bristles are not quite as stiff as I need them to be when I notice a car slowing down beside me and I hear a tentative voice query, “Richard?”

I stop sweeping and turn around to hear the driver say, “I thought it was you”. He wanted to let me know he’s been listening to me on the radio and that I sound good, but I sound different than I did on television. I thank him, wish him a nice day, dismiss the need for an explanation, but still think to myself, “awkward”.

It must have seemed strangely random to see me sweeping the pavement with such crazed zeal, unable to get the bits of glass out of the pock-marked road surface because the bristles were too soft!

I walk the dogs to a street corner every day to meet my wife, who gets off the train. The season starts off fine, with freshly cleaned roads. Inevitably, a few weeks in, there are spots of roadway strewn with pieces of smashed glass. Unless you’re obsessively vigilant, people will unwittingly walk their dogs over these bits of glass. I decided to sweep them myself which is what I was doing yesterday when the car pulled over.

What can you do?

It wasn’t as awkward as my last trip to the dog groomer. I arrived right on time and walked our Westie, Spike, into the waiting room. I could hear the groomer working on a dog as the customer and his daughter chatted and directed her scissors. It sounded like some last-minute problem with the animal’s fur. I didn’t look into the room, but stood in the waiting area with fidgeting Spike at the end of his leash. All of a sudden, I was overcome by a terribly foul stench. For those first few seconds, stunned by its potency and mystified by its sudden onset, I could think of no rational explanation, which, unfortunately, meant I’d have none to apologetically offer to the groomer and customers as they staggered past me to leave.

I could hear they were finishing their visit. My eyes watering, I desperately looked around the small waiting area for an explanation and spotted a fresh pile of excrement on the floor as Spike casually stared off into the distance, content he’d made his feelings known about visits to the groomer. Worse, I had inadvertently stepped in it. Standing on one leg, reeling from the sight of this steaming mound, eyes watering from the smell, right on cue, the customers and groomer came out of the room.

The customer immediately exclaimed, “Richard Dagenais!” I smiled, looking down at the mess as a gentle reminder I had other concerns. Seemingly oblivious, he asked, excitedly, “Do you know who I am?” I quickly confessed I did not. He asked again, “You don’t know who I am?” By this time, the groomer had retreated into her work area and re-emerged with a bottle of cleaning spray and paper towel. I offered to clean it myself. She refused the offer, got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed her floor. The customer was disappointed, “Are you sure you don’t know who I am?” I admitted perhaps I should know who he was, but I did not. The groomer began pulling the freshly tainted sneaker off my foot. I felt terrible about the mess and the stink but was no longer entirely sure I should feel terrible about my inability to identify this persistent customer.

It turns out he was the husband of one of my wife’s friends and I had met him once before, months, or years ago. I’m pretty sure I shook his hand as he and his daughter left the groomer’s house, but I really don’t remember it. I do remember thinking, “awkward”.

Kaboom

Someone says something, but you lack context and you’re not sure what you heard or how on earth it fits into the moment you’re already sharing; has that ever happened to you?

Your mind scrambles to make sense of the statement and you quickly, perhaps desperately, run through the different possibilities, only to discover none of the possibilities you considered were close to what the person meant!

To make the situation even more delicate, is it ever your spouse who unwittingly drops the confusion bomb on you?

Kaboom!

We were driving the other day and, as usual when we bring Bear, our Australian Labradoodle in the car, Susan was being sat upon by the beast! As we rolled along, out of the blue, Susan asked, “Does the car tire bare out?”

Immediately, I implemented a protocol of extreme prudence. According to the protocol, the first step is not to respond right away. Instead, I carefully and, with all the intelligence I could muster, pondered the origin of the question.  I drew a blank.

Think, fool. “Does the car tire bare out?”

Had she detected some subtle thumping sound in the spinning wheels? Was she contemplating a new set of tires? Was she concerned our current tires had been compromised by excessive road wear?

I opted for another quick review, “Does the car tire bear out?” 

I got this. She’s clearly asking whether I’ve noticed a steering issue that involves one of the car tires bearing outward.

That wasn’t it  Clearly, I don’t got this.

Craving more information and unable to obtain sufficient aid from my confounded brain, I expressed dismay at not understanding the question. Evidently, my questions were all pointed in the wrong direction because they seemed to be confusing Susan.

I’m confused. She’s confused. We’re turning into snapping turtles. She wonders how I could possibly misunderstand the semantics of the question, after all, she points out sweetly, it’s self-explanatory and constructed in basic English. I question her command of basic English and now we’re having fun.

Patiently, she reviews, “Does the car tire bear out?” I’m as lost and dumbfounded as I was and, believe me, the battery in my flashlight is dead as a doornail!

She spells it out, “Does – the – car – tire – bear – out?”

I still don’t know how it hit me; maybe Susan hit me. The admittedly rather dim light flickered on and I suddenly realized she was asking, “Does the car tire Bear out?” In other words, does Bear, our dog, get tired by car rides because he tends to get a little frantic when we bring him along on drives (see blog of May 21, 2015, titled "Spotless Insanity").

Eureka!

We’re laughing now, amazed at how quickly a communication breakdown can spiral downward!

What’s even more astounding is that when I set up the story and repeated the question to my son and his girlfriend, Tristan was certain his mother’s question pertained to car tires, while Lisa knew right away Susan was talking about Bear, the dog.

Kaboom!

See You Monday

It’s June 15^th, exactly one month since my last day hosting the morning show. I can’t say the month has been breezy, but I can say how eternally grateful I am to Susan and Tristan for reminding me life is always wonderful and, even jobless, I’m still who I was.

I was in university taking an introductory psychology class when I first heard about a scale that put numerical values on life changes in order to evaluate the stress they can cause. The scale was developed in 1967 by researchers Holmes and Rahe. Losing a job is ranked eighth on the scale, ahead of "marital reconciliation" and behind "marriage". The scale provides a stark reminder there are far more unkind fates.

Life changes lurk "nowhere" and "in the blue", and that’s where they pounce from - out of nowhere and out of the blue! Many people ask me whether I had any indication I would lose my job and I tell them, from my point of view, unless I missed something, there wasn’t even an indication of an indication.

It was Thursday April 9^th and as I sat editing an interview for our weekly “best of the week” show, my boss asked to see me in her office. She told me my job had been cut. Her words splashed on forehead like searing acid, burning their way into my brain and slowly sinking downward to my heart.

Like anyone who is the victim of job cuts, you wonder how, in the end, all your contributions can be worth so little. The pouring of energy, creativity, vision, talent, dedication, discretion, health, determination and so many other qualities, amount to nothing more than a perfunctory severance payment.

I’ve had several of my jobs cut before but this show, project, and work, meant more to me. I can honestly say I never took the hosting position for granted and I had said to Camille many times what a thrill it always was to hear my name announced as each new half hour of the show opened! Having my name attached to a show was an exciting first for me!

That last day one month ago was difficult, and the sign-off, dreadfully precarious. One wrong word or move by anyone would have caused me to unwind emotionally on-air.

Just as we came out of the last commercial break, Julie, one of our directors, declared quietly in my earpiece, “It’s been an honor”.  Managing a weak smile, I waved my fist at her through the camera, struggling to hold it together. Thankfully, Camille respected my request to do, and say nothing, out of the ordinary. Media critic Steve Faguy hit the nail on the head when he later observed I signed off that last Friday as though I would see viewers on Monday. It took immeasurable effort just to manage what he perceptively described as my “see-you-Monday” wave!

To say losing my job was disappointing would be to severely understate the situation. There are many questions I wish I could have management answer for me. Time is healing the sense of rejection and I hope to find fulfilling full-time work. One of my twitter followers, @DangerZone007, asked me yesterday how the adjustment is going, not being in front of the camera anymore; it’s a good question, I’m pretty sure it’s an adjustment that will be ongoing.

Overwhelmed by sadness, I wasn’t able to enter the room where staff had gathered after the May 15^th show to say goodbye to the employees who had been cut. I lingered outside for a moment or two until the swollen lump in my throat could no longer hold back the emotion, and then I quickly turned for the exit, stepped out into the hallway and blubbered my way to the elevator.

Thank you so much for all the supportive comments I’ve been getting in e-mails, on twitter and in person from viewers of the show. Leonie’s comments meant so much.

On the very first show, I told viewers I had been described by news anchor Jamie Orchard as the frog in the box that bursts into song whenever the lid is opened. A month ago, the box closed, but Michigan J. Frog is tapping on the lid, hoping to get back out.

See you Monday.

Spotless Insanity

Such exuberance; unbridled is the best way to qualify it!

After losing our wonderful Westie, Moose, August 22nd of last year, two months later, my wife bravely insisted on getting another dog and - hark - that is when Bear entered our lives. Now, patrolling our unsuspecting household, we have our faithful Westie, Spike, and a wacky Australian Labradoodle puppy named Bear.

He is supremely exuberant.

Everything he does, he does exuberantly, whether it is permitted or not.

Our house and back deck are eerily spotless these days and we have Bear to thank for that.

He rather starkly taught us anything that fits down his throat will end up there. Good to know. We leave nothing small lying around anywhere, anymore.

In earlier weeks, my son and I watched him casually swallow a sock as he flopped beside us on the couch. We brought him to the vet, where they induced vomiting and recovered the sock.

A mere few days later, he exuberantly swallowed a used fabric softener sheet like it was cotton candy! This time, after consulting the vet, we induced the vomiting ourselves, following the recipe provided to us by the vet. Strangely and somewhat disconcertingly, we have yet to hear from that dryer sheet. The vet told us it’s all good as long as stuff goes in one end and comes out the other.

If this dog appears trustworthy to you, have your eyes checked immediately.

None of it was fun for Bear or for us, which is why we choose to, as conscientiously as possible, pick up after ourselves. No more small articles of clothing lying about, no more small objects on floor surfaces and, on the back deck, no more leaf buds or branch bits.

This week, I’ve been following Bear out onto the back deck with a broom in hand, in order to sweep leaves and things away before he exuberantly ingests them! We’ve discovered that, at this time of year, he eats those brown propeller things that fall from the trees, only to unhappily regurgitate them a few hours later in the middle of our kitchen or living room.

The person loading the dryer counts out the dryer sheets placed into the machine and once the load of clothing is dried, it is now the responsibility of said person to make certain all dryer sheets are accounted for.

Bear tends to idle at “just under frantic” when travelling in a vehicle but, conveniently, that’s nothing sitting conspicuously in the lap of a suddenly squished and wheezing passenger can’t solve!

Entirely delightful.

He was supposed to be a 25 pound dog but he’s at 40 pounds and counting, which, by our standards, having become accustomed to dogs of a more sensible Westie stature, makes Bear a veritable horse! The Australian Labradoodle breeder can think of no explanation for his being twice the size of either of his parents, but I’m wisely chalking it up to pure exuberance.

His Instagram account - @thedoodlebear - is far more popular than mine, although his identifying hashtag should be #burlyandcurly.

My exuberantly re-designed duck boots

I’m not sure where he got his training, but he is a keen specialist in the indiscriminate destruction of footwear. My wife has lost at least two pairs of designer shoes and high quality winter boots. My son has lost shoes and I’ve spent the latter part of winter and early parts of spring sauntering off to the grocery store hoping no one looks down at my exuberantly redesigned LL Bean duck boots.

It sounds like insanity, I know and admit, but dogs add so much to our lives, none of which we can do without.

A lot of people who are not dog people claim to be dog people. Dog lovers know these people are not dog people and dogs know it, too. Dog people will tell you, exuberantly, how their quality of life has been lifted to new heights simply by having one of these darling animals in their lives.

One 2009 New Zealand study grimly suggests dogs have twice the carbon footprint of an SUV, suggesting they are "quite an extravagance".

Dogs ease life’s rough patches and offer infinite levels of love, loyalty and laughter.

Bear is the king of slowly stretching out a long front paw with one eye on the prize and another wary eye on Spike, who is in the process of coveting the much desired prize. It's hilarious and should be featured on comedy festival stages.

It was sad to lose Moose, but to avoid getting another dog would be to deny and ignore the difference she made in our lives and the value of the enrichment she joyfully poured over our family and household.

Moose was my stress sponge; the mere act of holding her in my arms would inevitably and involuntarily induce a giant sigh on my part. She is with us forever.

Bear is hardly sponge-like, but he is equipped with a slinky neck that can twist, bend, lean and stretch in odd and unnatural directions as he keeps an eye trained on all manner of prospective mischief.

He cannot for the life of him contain his giddy joy and boundless energy when he steps out the door for a walk.

If ALD's, as a breed, have hip displacement issues, which I don’t believe they do, it’s surely the result of excessive and uncontrolled wagging. We’re wagging right along with him.