My Beef With the CBC

In Canada, as in most nations, we have our own unique traditions that we hold dear. After all, a culture without tradition is not really much of a culture at all. Some of the better known and widely observed of our traditions include the celebration of all things related to hockey, vast pride in not being American, obsession with the weather, and last, but not least, complaining about the CBC.

The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation is our national public television and radio network, and while people might compare it to the American PBS, it probably has far more in common with the UK's BBC. It carries a wide melange of content — from the performing arts to professional hockey, from British soap operas to American blockbuster movies, from crime drama to sketch comedy. Not content to be a single station, the CBC broadcasts in English and French on radio and TV, and has a cable news station, CBC Newsworld, which was supposed to be all news but now also features documentaries and Antiques Roadshow. There's also CBC Country Canada, which, features, well, I actually have no idea, since no one I know has ever watched it.

Why do Canadians complain about the CBC? Well, much like the "Lite" rock radio station where I live, the CBC has for years tried to be everything to everyone. It has of course, failed. Sports fans watch CBC for sports (and are truly thankful that they have an almost zero chance of seeing Rod Black), but find the artsy content and the endless episodes of Coronation Street annoying. Fans of the arts are less than impressed by hockey, football, and Star Wars. By and large, nobody really loves the CBC, and there are a few people who really dislike it, but most of us are content to watch our local news and syndicated suppertime episodes of The Simpsons (5:00 pm to 5:30 pm, Monday to Friday, from now until the end of time). Like a dog who may not know any tricks and is well past his prime, but still he follows you around faithfully, seeking whatever love you seek to bestow, the CBC has for years been our old reliable public TV network. It's not fancy, but it was dependable.

At least, it was. Almost two months ago the network bosses locked out the unionized staff. The result has been a loss of local news, and football games without commentators, but since it was summer, not much else changed. New shows haven't debuted, and won't until the labour dispute is resolved, but it's still reasonably early enough in the season that the public hasn't noticed. I've even heard that the ratings for the commentator-free football games are up.

So, apart from missing my local news, which, let's face it, I didn't exactly watch more than twice a week anyway, the CBC labour dispute has been a non-event for me. At least, it was until Sunday night past. On that evening, my wife and I happened to turn on the CBC Sunday Night Movie. It was the 1934 classic The Thin Man, an enjoyable murder mystery with a touch of screwball comedy — nominated for four Academy Awards and the first of a series of "Thin Man" movies, this is a very good movie, and one that I heartily recommend. Only you may not want to watch it on the CBC.

About three quarters of the way through the film, just before we arrive at the point where all the suspects are gathered together in the way they used to do in movies and on episodes of Matlock, there was a commercial break. Or so we thought. No, this was not three minutes of advertisements. This was the end of the broadcasting day sign off — scenic clip montage, national anthem, the whole works. We hoped it was a mistake and they would go back to the movie, but after 30 seconds of test pattern we decided that was not likely to happen.

I did the only thing I really could in this situation. I got out the phonebook and called the station. Of course, it was 12:30 at night now, and the workers are all locked out anyway, so of course no one answered. I didn't really expect anyone to, but I had to try. Then I looked in the phonebook further, and saw that there was a number for the transmitter. I gave it a call, but of course it didn't connect me to the local transmitter, but rather to someone, I'm guessing by the accent, who was in Montreal. He listened to my concerns, took my name and number, and said he'd look into it right away, but when I checked again a few minutes later, still there was naught but test pattern. By now I had reached the point of giving up and going to bed.

It was with no small amount of amusement that I read on the very next day that the CBC had reached an agreement in principal with the workers. Of course my personal troubles with the Corporation just happened to coincide with what is hopefully the end of the labour dispute. I'm still upset with the CBC, but perhaps in time my anger will no longer burn with the fire of a thousand suns. Of course, that all depends on whether or not they mess up the showing of After the Thin Man, which is next Sunday's late movie.