I call it the Pretentious Canadian.
You know the kind; they embrace winter!TM. They enjoy Canadian television* and revel in Canadian in-jokes on American television**. And they listen to CBC, for God's sake.
Well, hello, me!
I turned on CBC Radio Two about 2 months ago, since I just couldn't find a station with a mix that I was enjoying. This, of course, might be due to the fact that the good*** stations that I'd normally listen to were programmed into my parents' radio, and I therefore needed to change my taste in music, and quick.
Let's back up. I grew up with the CBC. It was a Sunday morning staple. It was a constant and friendly background presence in my mom's kitchen, from the silly (Air Farce and Double Exposure) to the symphonic, and it became natural, when I lived on my own, to leave the radio on all the time, even when I went out, just so I had its sound to come home to. Over the years, through roommates and husbands (kaff), I got exposed to more modern music that wasn't too bad, and since I wasn't exactly given a choice in stations, I started to like the various morning shows and evening shows, and always turned off the radio when I left a room.
But I digress. I tuned into CBC Radio One first. Yes, I got caught up on world events in the span of one day... all day... just the news... all day... All together now: boooooring. And depressing.
But then I found its companion, Radio Two. I believe I had the misfortune to start with Tempo, the workday classical show. It's hosted by Julie Nesrallah, and I hated her from the very first five minutes of Pretentious Canadiana. She's smug and uppity and apparently finds joy in telling quaint little stories about composers, with turns of phrase, just so, to impress and delight her listeners. She amuses herself to bits, you can tell.
On day two, I had fallen in love. She's amazing! You can hear the passion in her gorgeous voice - she loves, loves, loves classical music, and obviously researches her subjects with interest. And yes, I'm impressed and delighted and amused. And I hang on her every word. It's so bad, that if I ever got to meet her, I wouldn't even be able to talk to her, since I'd say something like, "Gawrsh, you talk purty," bark a nervous laugh and follow it with, "I'm a fan!"****
I'm starting to learn (or maybe to rediscover -- it's been so long) the different composers again. I crank up the opera, despite thinking that every one I hear was written by Puccini. I try to guess which is Bach and which is Brahms...unsuccessfully almost every time...but I find it so peaceful and wonderful, amid the chaos of my home or the monotony of a long drive.
The other shows, where they mix up the music, don't impress me as much - I find that their playlist is still rather repetitive, though I am getting exposed to a wider range than anything I heard in the Hat, whose stations, I used to joke, had six CDs each.
In fact, the first time I tuned into classical music again was on the flight from there to here for the househunting trip. Chris was wrestling with a didn't-want-to-sit-still Vaughn in the seat in front of me, and I had a quietly sleeping -- and fairly new -- Ailsa cuddled up to me. I put on my headphones, chose the classical playlist, and felt instantly refined and refreshed.
Oh, and pretentious too, of course.
* ...like InSecurity. Highly recommended, but not by Fis.
** All things Robin Scherbatsky, yo!
*** "Good", in this iteration, means "totally crappy, and I'm aware of it, but I like what I like, dammit, and who are you to judge me?" See also, Majic 100, The Lounge.
**** You know, the same way I used to do with fitness stars, like Stephanie Worsfold and Jen Hendershott. (Who called me a fireball, don'tcha know. ) (And, yes, that will be on my tombstone.)