It's Time to Fight for our CBC

I have to admit that singing the praises for a one-time bloated behemoth that has been known to flaunt its elitist taste and temperament is a bit counter intuitive, even for me, a dedicated CBC listener.

I hope that getting a national dialogue started on its behalf is not impossible--for two very good reasons. First, Mother Corp is set to wither to a skraeling of its former bulky self, not from disinterest by viewers/listeners/subscribers but by the swift and constant withdrawal of sustenance in the form of budget cuts engineered in a back room and voted on without public discussion.

Secondly, I appreciate the diversity that a national broadcaster must, by its mandate, bring to its audience.

In other words, it is the manner of the downsizing that warrants a hold on this action until a full and open public discussion takes place. To fell such a pivotal institution without allowing the everyday users (and payers, by the way) to express opinions goes against all that our founding fathers (and I daresay, the CBC) espoused. It is so much a part of our national fabric that this budgetary slashing is tantamount to ripping the hem off our best dress, throwing it in the wash and then acting surprised when it emerges shredded, much shorter and useless as a garment.

I would hate to see our broadcaster sink to the status of proverbial rag, relegated to life under the sink, pulled out to wipe up the odd spill.

My elitist tastes may be peaking through (witness the use of the word "skraeling", my new Scrabble word of the week) but that's okay. Not everyone in a country as large as ours with an exceptional mix of cultures could be expected to enjoy the same programming. But to have a national media that attempts to bring us all what we need and want--and allows us to personalize the streaming!--what could possibly be better than that?

I do not watch hockey but am saddened that CBC had to bow out of the bidding to continue broadcasting our favourite sport. I think all fans would agree it provided the superior coverage of the game. Maybe you didn't like Don Cherry. That's why the Mute button was invented. But to have to settle for the dumbed-down, jazzed up American-ized coverage is to take something away from a tradition. Almost everyone agrees that Rick Mercer is a national treasure. I also think the cast and crew of Murdoch Mysteries are up there. Not everyone will agree--but I bet everyone has an opinion.

The gathering of those opinions, the discussion of media trends and how to move forward, the quest for solutions from those who love (or hate or are ambiguous about) the CBC--that is what is missing in all this. Here are some facts:

Of 18 western countries with public broadcasters, Canada is the third lowest in terms of per capita public funding. We taxpayers currently pay $29 per year while the average for the 18 is $82 per capita per person.

The reduction of CBC's appropriation by $15 million over three years, starting in 2012, "combined with the unavoidable costs and investments required to continue to transform into a modern public broadcaster" actually amounts to the loss of $200 million over those years (according to the CBC website).

In 2010 alone, the CBC website averaged 5.8 million hits per month with over a million audio podcasts downloaded each month. (I don't know about you, but I have morphed into an avid devotee of podcasts. That way, when something comes on which I am not particularly taken with--Jian Ghomeshi and his nasally droning about entertainment blather, comes to mind--I flip to one of my recorded shows and enjoy.)

It is a fractured media landscape and I do not envy those tasked with navigating it. But I sure hope they get to keep guiding us over that sometimes troublesome, always exciting terrain. I fear that without Mother Corp out there helping us along, we may just lose our way.

On that note, I encourage everyone to migrate over to the CBC website and take the survey. And contact your MP and start discussions with anyone you can. Maybe it's time to stop spending money on ads for non-existent economic action plans and put it into something productive like the maintenance of a national broadcaster that promotes free and open discussion....we can only hope. And speak up.

Emerging from the Vortex

It is only recently that I began sleeping through the night again. And so, I thought it time to look in the mirror. And then make a hair appointment ASAP. 

The previous nine months have involved the planning of, construction of, paying of and, finally, about a month ago, the moving in and possession of a new home. During that gestation, not only were chaos and sleep deprivation the order of the day, time for hobbies, friendships and personal maintenance disappeared. Looking in the mirror could be seriously depressing...the bags under the eyes, the grey needing to be touched up, the thought of spending another day in old, paint-stained cast-off shirts of my husband.

I am now sitting in my beautiful new living room and loving it. Friends and family showed up to unpack boxes and move clothes at just the right time. My husband and I are still married and both learned a lot about compromising along the way. I did not need to buy any new furniture, actually managing to downsize and shed some, and we have sold the house we moved out of. My husband decided to let go of his thirty-old hockey equipment on his own. Life is good...and strangely calm. However, if an electrician or plumber where to suddenly emerge from the basement with a question I would not be surprised. 

During construction and even after the move in, I had to be sure to hop out of bed at an early hour and be dressed and ready for whatever the day would bring. Normally contractors and their apprentices--guys wearing baseball caps, sunglasses and stopping mid-sentence to answer calls--would all show up at once and want me to make decisions on the spot. The decision made almost always involved me running to the flooring store or paint store or Home Depot. (I became such a regular at the latter that one day while shopping for bathroom fixtures I got paged to the front to be informed that a light was also in for me. The staff had seen me come in and recognized me.)

I like to bake cookies on a regular basis and fully intended to show up on the job site with warm baked goods at coffee break time throughout the construction process. Our sum total of offerings were pizzas that my husband delivered a couple of times at lunchtime and two boxes of doughnuts that I picked up for them as I made another swing past Tim Horton's, the second time that day.

It felt a lot like I imagine being whipped around and around and across the landscape in a tornado cone would feel. And when it stops there you are sitting on the ground, a little stunned, grateful to find yourself intact, bewildered by the calm after the fury. 

It is taking me a bit of time to get used to the calm. I have been told by mothers of the bride that it takes the same amount of time to get back to normal after a wedding as went into planning the thing. Maybe a move is the same.

I do know my brain is happy to no longer be stretched to capacity. It likes to be empty enough to ponder the big questions. Like, should I get my nails done when I get a haircut? Should I call a neglected friend for lunch? Maybe buy some new spring clothes? And if I get bored, I can always go back at the oddball boxes waiting to be unpacked. Yesterday I found my stapler, the lint brush and my yogurt-maker. I am still on the hunt for a favourite platter but have to wonder just what I was thinking when I allowed the candle-snuffer to make the move.

Thankfully the folks at Rebuilt Resources, although they too now recognize my vehicle as it backs up to the door, always smile and help me offload more treasures.