Drowning in The Current

While life in Florence offers many pleasures (blog entries passim), I frequently pine for a slice of Canadiana. A little Eastern Ontario maple syrup, the distinctive sound of a loonie jingling with a toonie, a good rant by one Donald Cherry, or the clink of glasses with a rousing Caribou! toast.

So I find myself tuning the shortwave to Radio Canada International in hopes of hearing a familiar voice from across the pond. Now let me be clear in the best Paul Martin fashion: I am a grande fanatico of CBC and a special admirer of its talented employees.

But regrettably one of the shows I catch most often is The Current, the daily gabfest that began with such promise, yet has descended into a ritual guilt spiral of histrionic horror. I realize the men and women of the fourth estate must dutifully skulk among the dregs of our ailing global village, overturning slimy stones in an effort to expose the charlatans and evildoers of the age. But enough is enough! Anna Maria Tremonti's radio program is a steady diet of apocalyptic calamity, the aural equivalent of pitching one's holiday weekend smorgasbord tent at the lip of an active volcano.

A mere half-hour of this sonic scare-o-rama makes me want to double-latch the apartamento door, open another bottle of chianti and crawl back beneath the comforting blue duvet.

The Current doesn't have to go all Pollyana on us. It just means less problema, more soluzione.

Why not the occasional documentary about an unsung underdog who has overcome great challenges? A sound-rich missive on an emerging musical talent the record companies ignored? An empowering look at combatting workplace stress? Or what the average Jane, citizen's group or mega-corporation can actually do to reverse global warming?

Meantime, don't stay tuned.