Serials killed in 2017
Jan. 1st, 2018 10:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blogcutterOf the many publications that bit the dust in 2017, there are two in particular that have had a major impact on my life. So in this entry, I'd like to pay tribute to them.
The first is Metro (Ottawa). Yes, that humble little community paper (actually one of a string of urban papers in the vast Postmedia chain) that was widely distributed 5 days a week by human hands or through a network of green boxes. Until it wasn't - which happened around the end of November.
It all started a decade or two ago, back when I was still working in a downtown Ottawa office. Someone would hand me a paper as I got off the bus. I'd glance at the headlines as I walked to my office or lined up for a coffee. During breaks, I'd do the Sudoku and crossword and other puzzles the papers contained. In Metro's heyday, it had competition too - from 24 Hours, 24 Heures, Dose, Rush Hour and other similar publications that came and went.
After I retired, Metro (and for a while 24 Hours too) still provided the framework for my morning routine. After breakfast, my partner and I would do a specially selected grand neighbourhood tour, stopping at a green box for the Metro, an orange box for 24 Hours (the yellow 24 Heures boxes were gone by then), visiting some of our favourite lawn ornaments en route and sometimes running into neighbourhood characters before looping back home again. At home, we might enjoy a mug of hot apple cider if the weather was cold, or a glass of lemonade if it was hot. And while drinking it, we could leaf through the papers and I'd do all the puzzles. Well, what can I say? Some people take smoke breaks; some people walk their dogs with cell phone in one hand and plastic stoop-n-scoop bags in the other; I'd rather go out for my newspaper and lawn ornament fix and come home for my cider and puzzle fix.
So now we have to make a point of getting out for our daily walks. Until the recent bitter cold snap, we've mostly succeeded, although the timing of the walks has shifted from first thing in the morning to some time after 2 PM, which is when we can usually be sure that the mail has been delivered.
Now for the second serial killed in 2017 whose demise has been a shock to my system. The Sears catalogue. That too had some competition in its heyday, most notably from the Eaton's catalogue. Heck, author and former National Librarian Roch Carrier even wrote a story about it (the Eaton's catalogue, I mean), and hockey, in both official languages - how Canadian can you get?
In Canada, Sears used to be Simpsons-Sears, while Sears Roebuck was the much larger U.S. company. But I think it bears noting that the Sears mail-order catalogue survived longer in Canada than it did in the U.S., even though Sears could hardly be called a Canadian company. But then, neither is the Hudson's Bay Company any more.
Early in my career, when I was cataloguing film-related books at the Public Archives Library (now part of Library and Archives Canada), the Archives Library used to archive back-copies of Sears and Eaton's catalogues as far back as they would go. They were no doubt invaluable to "serious" historical and sociological researchers, but absolutely fascinating for purposes of casual browsing too! We'd giggle and snicker over the hilarious fashions of yesteryear including some twenty to thirty pages of "foundation garments". And unless I'm much mistaken, in the decades long before the gun registry, you could actually order guns and other hunting supplies through the catalogue. Interestingly enough, though, tobacco products were never sold by Eaton's, as Timothy Eaton was apparently vehemently opposed to the stuff. Birth control? Totally illegal and immoral, of course. Every sperm is sacred and all that. I'm not sure what all that says about social mores, but I'd love to hear some opinions.
Sears (or Simpsons-Sears) catalogues were very much a part of my childhood. The fall-winter catalogue, which came out over the summer, contained everything I could possibly want for my back-to-school wardrobe. The Christmas catalogue, which came out in the fall, gave me an early start on my letters to Santa. I certainly remember desperately wanting a Chatty Cathy doll, as well as skates and a watch, when I was about six or seven. And Santa Claus delivered on all counts! Anyway, the cycle repeated itself to some extent with the next generation when my daughter arrived. We had no car in those days, so it was wonderful to be able to order some of those bulky baby and kid paraphernalia items that modern folks seem to need or expect, and have them delivered right to our door. Even when the grandchildren arrived, I still made good use of the catalogue to order things like carseats and somewhat specialized items for the home.
When our house was burgled in early 2000, I used the Sears catalogue as a guide to figure out a replacement cost to claim on our insurance for many of the items that were stolen.
So I'm definitely going to miss Sears in general, and the Sears catalogue in particular.
I could say a R.I.P. to both the Sears catalogue and the Metro, but the truth is ... I'm hoping that other publications will launch in 2018 as suitable replacements!
The first is Metro (Ottawa). Yes, that humble little community paper (actually one of a string of urban papers in the vast Postmedia chain) that was widely distributed 5 days a week by human hands or through a network of green boxes. Until it wasn't - which happened around the end of November.
It all started a decade or two ago, back when I was still working in a downtown Ottawa office. Someone would hand me a paper as I got off the bus. I'd glance at the headlines as I walked to my office or lined up for a coffee. During breaks, I'd do the Sudoku and crossword and other puzzles the papers contained. In Metro's heyday, it had competition too - from 24 Hours, 24 Heures, Dose, Rush Hour and other similar publications that came and went.
After I retired, Metro (and for a while 24 Hours too) still provided the framework for my morning routine. After breakfast, my partner and I would do a specially selected grand neighbourhood tour, stopping at a green box for the Metro, an orange box for 24 Hours (the yellow 24 Heures boxes were gone by then), visiting some of our favourite lawn ornaments en route and sometimes running into neighbourhood characters before looping back home again. At home, we might enjoy a mug of hot apple cider if the weather was cold, or a glass of lemonade if it was hot. And while drinking it, we could leaf through the papers and I'd do all the puzzles. Well, what can I say? Some people take smoke breaks; some people walk their dogs with cell phone in one hand and plastic stoop-n-scoop bags in the other; I'd rather go out for my newspaper and lawn ornament fix and come home for my cider and puzzle fix.
So now we have to make a point of getting out for our daily walks. Until the recent bitter cold snap, we've mostly succeeded, although the timing of the walks has shifted from first thing in the morning to some time after 2 PM, which is when we can usually be sure that the mail has been delivered.
Now for the second serial killed in 2017 whose demise has been a shock to my system. The Sears catalogue. That too had some competition in its heyday, most notably from the Eaton's catalogue. Heck, author and former National Librarian Roch Carrier even wrote a story about it (the Eaton's catalogue, I mean), and hockey, in both official languages - how Canadian can you get?
In Canada, Sears used to be Simpsons-Sears, while Sears Roebuck was the much larger U.S. company. But I think it bears noting that the Sears mail-order catalogue survived longer in Canada than it did in the U.S., even though Sears could hardly be called a Canadian company. But then, neither is the Hudson's Bay Company any more.
Early in my career, when I was cataloguing film-related books at the Public Archives Library (now part of Library and Archives Canada), the Archives Library used to archive back-copies of Sears and Eaton's catalogues as far back as they would go. They were no doubt invaluable to "serious" historical and sociological researchers, but absolutely fascinating for purposes of casual browsing too! We'd giggle and snicker over the hilarious fashions of yesteryear including some twenty to thirty pages of "foundation garments". And unless I'm much mistaken, in the decades long before the gun registry, you could actually order guns and other hunting supplies through the catalogue. Interestingly enough, though, tobacco products were never sold by Eaton's, as Timothy Eaton was apparently vehemently opposed to the stuff. Birth control? Totally illegal and immoral, of course. Every sperm is sacred and all that. I'm not sure what all that says about social mores, but I'd love to hear some opinions.
Sears (or Simpsons-Sears) catalogues were very much a part of my childhood. The fall-winter catalogue, which came out over the summer, contained everything I could possibly want for my back-to-school wardrobe. The Christmas catalogue, which came out in the fall, gave me an early start on my letters to Santa. I certainly remember desperately wanting a Chatty Cathy doll, as well as skates and a watch, when I was about six or seven. And Santa Claus delivered on all counts! Anyway, the cycle repeated itself to some extent with the next generation when my daughter arrived. We had no car in those days, so it was wonderful to be able to order some of those bulky baby and kid paraphernalia items that modern folks seem to need or expect, and have them delivered right to our door. Even when the grandchildren arrived, I still made good use of the catalogue to order things like carseats and somewhat specialized items for the home.
When our house was burgled in early 2000, I used the Sears catalogue as a guide to figure out a replacement cost to claim on our insurance for many of the items that were stolen.
So I'm definitely going to miss Sears in general, and the Sears catalogue in particular.
I could say a R.I.P. to both the Sears catalogue and the Metro, but the truth is ... I'm hoping that other publications will launch in 2018 as suitable replacements!
