Talking With Friends, Sharing the Load Podcast

Joanna Piros

Some of my richest insights into ageing, health, love and grief, come from conversations with friends. This podcast is the audio version of those reports from the friend front, from the technology front, and from the reluctantly encountered shittiness epidemic. Topics include love, sex, technology, money, and very little politics. joannapiros.substack.com

  1. 1d ago

    Wrapping It In The Flag

    Ever since madness descended on the continent, I’ve been doing my best to “shop Canadian”. That has meant forgoing celery, as it’s almost always from the US, and spending much longer at the store checking labels. If you’re fortunate enough to live near farms, as I do, there is an abundance of clearly Canadian produce to revel in. Alas, there’s also Canadian winter and a distinct shortage of greenhouse capacity. But I digress. I really like this comment from Mark Carney’s September video, so have clipped it here, for your enjoyment. I kept the opener, just for fun. Building on the national mood, it didn’t take long for producers of virtually everything to see the advantage in selling Canadian to Canadians. Perhaps the most discussed and painful example is our beloved Tim Horton’s, the “double double” test of Canadian identity. Yes, the company has a rich and very patriotic history, founded in Hamilton Ontario by hockey player Tim Horton and grown up to be a national institution after Horton’s death in ‘74. Where we part national company, however, is in 2014 when Timmy’s was merged with Burger King in an $11.4 billion deal backed by a Brazilian-American investment firm, 3G Capital. The spin-off company now owns Tim’s, Burger King, Popeyes and Firehouse Subs. All in that’s around 33,000 restaurants in over 120 countries with $49 billion in annual sales. Funnily enough, or maybe not funny at all, it’s that huge sales tally which prompted the entity to put their HQ in Oakville, wait for it…..for tax reasons. Just last year the president of Tim Hortons Canada and US said the chain was looking to replace US suppliers with Canadian ones, to reduce tariff cost exposure saying, “We will make it even more Canadian”. It seems to be paying off as more and more of us are driving through daily. And we’re torn between the cultural attachment, driven by relentless marketing, and the facts of ownership. Unlike Tim’s, Molson Coors is not a daily ritual for most of us. Molson merged with the AmericanCoors Co. in 2005 to form Molson Coors Beverage Company, headquartered in the distinctly not Canadian city of Chicago. The majority American parent company is running a massive “Made by Canadians” campaign for the Molson Canadian brand. You decide. Lay’s potato chips are made in Canada from Canadian potatoes, by a company owned by Pepsico. Where do you want to draw the line? It’s tough to be purer than Caesar’s wife when it comes to many products and services. And there’s the rub! When you decide to buy or not to buy, what do you look for and care about? If you care about Canadian employment you want to know where the product or service is made, employing who, exactly? If you’re more concerned about your colourful Canadian bills flowing across the border, you care more about ownership. And that’s where things get very complex. For example, what’s the difference between Product of Canada and Made in Canada? Glad you asked. "Product of" is the strict one, meaning virtually all Canadian. "Made in" means finished here, not necessarily grown or sourced here. The Canadian Food Inspection Agency defines both terms and doesn’t weigh in on diapers, blankets, children’s shoes or hair products. For anything that isn't food, it's the Competition Bureau that sets the rules, under the Competition Act, the Consumer Packaging and Labelling Act, and the Textile Labelling Act, and these thresholds are actually stricter than they are for food. To be labelled “Product of Canada” under these acts, the item’s last substantial transformation must have happened in Canada, and at least 98% of total direct production costs were incurred in Canada. For “Made in Canada” designation, the last few stitches had to be done in Canada and at least 51% of production costs were incurred in Canada. The label also has to disclose foreign content so you’ll often see the words, “made in Canada with imported parts”. By the way, slapping a red maple leaf on the packaging or label essentially makes a claim for “Made in Canada”, at least so far as the Competition Bureau is concerned. And while the thresholds are stricter than those for food, the enforcement is not as stringent. Since the onset of tariff fever, your phone’s online store has exploded with various apps to help you fly the maple leaf in your shopping cart. Many of these upstarts have since collapsed but there are some viable options should you choose to double click to install. I started to pull together a list of all the related apps on my phone’s app store, to compare how they derive their ratings, and realized it would take me until the end of time to make it happen so I readily admit I turned to my robot friend for this nifty chart of the six solid apps which actually seem to exist. Because there are more of them than there are me, Canadian Press did just this kind of comparison recently and determined the top three above are the best in class, should you wish to avail yourself. Happily, there are some places where it’s easy to buy Canadian with no doubts. One of them is fish. Adam Pearl and Geoff Austin grew up fishing together off the coast of Vancouver Island. In July of 2002, on their way home from prawning, they hit a riptide on the north coast of the island and the 53 foot boat capsized and sank, forcing the two to swim out of an overturned vessel in frigid waters. They figured it was time to move inland for a bit, open a fish shop, and raise families. They found their destination in Nelson, BC on the shores of Kootenay Lake which is almost big enough to qualify as an ocean. Fisherman’s Market has just launched a clever marketing campaign to entice us to buy Canadian seafood, with a twist. They’re not invoking patriotism or anti-US-ism, they’re telling stories which give us a reason to care. Here’s Adam Pearl. If you normally buy your fish at the local grocery store, rather than a specialty fish shop, you can still ask the question, where is this from? Nothing performatively Canuck about Good Leaf Farms who practice indoor, vertical farming in Montreal, Guelph and Calgary. The company was founded on the opposite coast, in Truro, Nova Scotia by entrepreneur Gregg Curwin, in 2011. A few years later the New Brunswick giant, McCain Foods invested and eventually became the largest shareholder with an investment exceeding $65 million CDN. Farm Credit Canada joined the ranks in 2025. Export Development Canada is in the mix, as is Power Sustainable, owned by the Desmarais family of Montreal. So, two crown corporations and a couple big time Canadian families; you can’t get much more north of 49 than this. Closer to me geographically, there’s Up Vertical farms of Pitt Meadows, BC. It is founded and owned by brothers Bahram and Shahram Rashti who describe their system as Canadian designed, fully automated and “touchless”, designed and built by them over a decade. And then there’s the iconic all-Canadian burger chain, A & W. It may not be the biggest but it’s likely the most loved. You may not know that A & W was born in Winnipeg in 1956, to American parents, but grew up and declared its independence in the north. The US chain came first and the Winnipeg restaurant opened as a licensed subsidiary. It was then sold to Unilever in 1972 and in 1995 a Canadian group led by then president Jeff Mooney, with 5 VPs, bought it back as a fully independent Canadian entity. A&W Canada was miles ahead of the market when it moved to beef raised without hormones or steroids back in 2013. Ironically, when they launched the values-based branding, there weren’t enough Canadian ranchers meeting the hormone free standard so beef had to come from the US and Australia. While all this is playing out at the retail level, most provincial governments came on board with the ban on American alcohol products. At the federal level, last year’s announced “Buy Canadian Policy” prioritizes Canadian suppliers in federal procurement. At least seven of our allies have complained to the WTO, including the US, which is still this country’s largest supplier to government. The complainers say Canada may not be honouring its commitment to “guarantee non-discriminatory access” to government procurement — a promise baked into the trade pacts we’ve already signed. As you all remember, because it happened only last month, Trump signed a memorandum which starts the process of identifying and removing Canadian-origin items across the entire federal procurement system and leaves the door open to further escalation. Of course. So while the US and some others believe preferential procurement in Canada goes too far, domestic analysts point to a built-in exception which lets the government off the Canadian preference hook if the overall price will be 25% higher than a foreign bid. They say it makes the “buy Canadian” rule somewhat lacking in the dental department. Well, we’ve got multiple Elbows Up anthems, South Park’s old chestnut, “Blame Canada”, but I’ve opted to go waaaay back to the Midnight Special in March of 1974. The quality starts off shaky but it’s worth hanging in there. (From Ron Wells on YouTube) Until next time, America, don’t come knockin’ ‘round my door. I don’t wanna see your face no more. Talking With Friends, Sharing the Load is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit joannapiros.substack.com/subscribe

  2. Sep 23

    A Daily Dose of Navel Gazing

    I really like Substack, or I wouldn’t be here. I’ve already fled Facebook, X, Insta and never had TikTok or Blue Sky. However, there are some aspects of Substack that are beginning to irk me more and more so if you’re not in the mood for a rant, please click away and come back next week for something more solid. What does it mean to publish at the rhythm of breaking news when you’re writing personal essays? What’s that say to your readers about the value of their time? You have to be pretty bloody compelling to capture our interest with something personal every bleeding day. In the news business, breaking news is the cream on the top but another staple of the biz is the man bites dog genre, often the human interest, the unusual, the unexpected. With Substacks, I feel the strictly personal essay/confessional falls into this category and here’s the gripe: TOO MANY ALREADY! When these happen all the time it becomes the pedestrian version of dog bites man, not all that remarkable, nor worth commenting on. I don’t need a navel-gazing personal essay from the same writer every day of the week. I don’t even have lengthy conversations with my closest friends that often! True, I don’t have to open and read every one and I truly don’t but there’s something annoying about this frequency. It’s like getting constant text messages from a friend who needs to document every detail of their day: Just had avocado toast at the new cafe. Omg. These Substacks would be so much better served, and consumed, if they were less frequent. Putting annoying icing on the cake is the author’s reference to how much work it is to produce this volume of output, to which I would say, so stop it! Asking me to upgrade to a paid subscription so I can receive even more? Not happening, sorry. Part of the problem is the algorithm chase and Substack has to wear part of that but the bigger piece comes from a secondary economy of writers on Substack who post only about how to grow your publication, and many of them charge you for the “kit” or advice or workshop which tells you to post MORE. Like two to five Notes posts every day. That same blogger built and will happily sell you a Chrome extension for batch scheduling Notes so you can actually leave the keyboard and go for a walk. His website does point out, though, that “No scheduler can fix weak positioning or generic writing; the offer and ideas still need to be strong”. But in the next breath we see that posts are not assessed by their editorial or emotional valence but rather whether or not they moved the subscriber needle. Substack itself recommends posting once a week for most of us, and emphasizes consistency as the gold standard. Unlike other platforms, Substack has been fairly transparent about the algorithm and despite some rumoured secret updates the main information was revealed at an event at their HQ in October of last year. Co-founder Hamish McKenzie and head of machine learning, Mike Cohen, explained how it works: Cohen said it’s optimized for discovery leading to subscription, the goal is to “get people to discover, subscribe, and ideally pay”, and that’s how and why the feed was built. When someone opens the Substack app, the algorithm looks at who they are, where they are, what language they use, who they follow and subscribe to, and their stated interests. That all gets stirred in a cauldron and results in a numerical profile of them which dictates what gets shown in their feeds. It’s a guess at what will resonate with you. As far as I can tell, though, no one at that tell-all event at Substack HQ put their finger on the problem that’s irking me: if the algorithm is built to show whatever creates a sense of connection between you and a writer, and the data shows that confessional Notes outperform others, then the platform isn’t a pile of navel-gazing by accident. There’s lots of data on frequency, engagement and revenue but no one seems to be measuring, or even talking about, what it costs us, the readers. I’m wondering about churn, unsubscribes or reader fatigue. There’s certainly anecdotal evidence from many conversations I’ve had, usually the comment is, “he/she posts way to often, and usually it’s repetitive”. One complaint came from someone who had a paid subscription, received absolutely nothing for months, and found there’s no way to get a refund from an author who simply stops. Two extremes, almost equally annoying. One more thing to flag if you’re still with me. Wayne Horton has written a piece about how Apple horns in on your money if you upgrade to a paid subscription on the Substack app. Read more about that here. So for those of you who wondered how we got here, this has been a roundabout explanation, complete with bitchfest; same as it ever was. Now, let’s see, what would be a suitable musical offering? Until next time, keep asking yourself, how did I get here? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit joannapiros.substack.com/subscribe

  3. Sep 17

    I’ve Had the Time of My Life

    Last week a group of us went to see Dirty Dancing in the movie theatre. I know it’s not 1987, duh, but our local cinema has launched a throw-back Tuesday pilot to see what the response might be. Judging from that one night, it’s an idea whose time has come — again. First of all, the place was packed and that’s not the usual situation in this small, small-town theatre. The audience knew most of the pivotal lines, all the songs, and had various reasons for being there. One large, heavily bearded guy was in line for tickets and wanted to explain himself as he wasn’t there on sufferance with his girlfriend. She was at home, he told us, watching her “favourite movie” on VHS, but insisted he go see it on the big screen. His motivation to accede to that wish was that he wants to see more retro films brought to the Twilight Theatre so feels we have to support what we want to receive. I’m drafting up a list of movies I’ll send along to the new owners, in hopes it inspires them to keep these Tuesdays going. Thinking Vanishing Point, Easy Rider, Rain Man, The Last Picture Show; there are so many!!! It’s not just an 80s movie about the early 60s that draws us; we could all watch Dirty Dancing online or VHS (yikes) but we choose to do it together, in a group, with our community. There’s a special kick to doing this in company with others and it’s one of the few times I’ve seen so many people in one place and no one scrolling for two hours. Not surprisingly, nostalgia is a refuge for us as individuals when times get tough; we harken back to memories which tend to crystallize around positive experiences, golden moments. Whether they were simpler or better doesn’t matter; it’s the memories which help sustain us in the present. Krystine Batcho writes: The desire to escape into the imagined, idealized world of a prior era – even one you weren’t alive for – represents a different, independent type of nostalgia called historical nostalgia. Historical nostalgia is often concurrent with a deep dissatisfaction with the present and a preference for the way things were long ago. Unlike personal nostalgia, someone who experiences historical nostalgia might have a more cynical perspective of the world, one colored by pain, trauma, regret or adverse childhood experiences. At a time of global anxiety, historical nostalgia has taken root in multiple places, a mass response which seeks to evoke the comfort of better days. The faith-based WiC Project blog wrote late last year that times like ours disrupt our own sense of stability and we compensate for that anxiety by looking for emotional anchors to reassure us. Nostalgia is a psychological response to the lives we’re living today. An article in Psychology Today revisits the unrest of the mid-1960s through the early 1970s, with high profile assassinations, student protests, race riots, inflation, a falling stock market, recession, unemployment, the Vietnam War and the threat of nuclear attack. Taken together that cultural uncertainty gave birth to a massive nostalgia for the recalled golden days of the 1950s, along with a spate of 50s based movies and TV shows. Today we see a similar yearning showing up in where we put our money. You see it in retail stats which show Boomers and GenXers buying products which were popular “back in the day” but also millennial parents seeking out retro products for their kids. Consumer data cruncher Circana notes: A few cases in point: women’s low-rise denim was the fastest-growing denim type from January through May 2026, reflecting the continued Y2K revival. Also harkening back to other eras, wider silhouettes continue to lead, bootcut jeans are seeing a resurgence, and premium denim is hot again, echoing the early 2000s designer boom. The article also reports that lip liner, made popular in the 1920s and revived in the 1980s, is back again and that young consumers are driving a boom in consignment clothing. For those with money, the design world is bringing back Baroque and Rococo inspired jackets, boots and tricorn hats. It’s called “newstalgia” whether it’s reviving classic products or reimagining them in new ways. Of course, nostalgia is a reconstruction, not an accurate rendering and even the longed-for 50s and 60s weren’t golden for everyone. Leave it to Beaver showed us the sensitive and sensible male breadwinner dad and the cheerful, coiffed stay-at-home-mom, but that wasn’t representative. Many real families struggled with conflict, female repression, anxiety and poverty. Historian Stephanie Coontz, in her book, The Way We Never Were: American Families and the Nostalgia Trap, wrote that rape and sexual assault rates were far higher in the 1970s than they are today and that child abuse and poverty were much more common than we remember. Many of us grew up under the shadow of the Cold War and practiced bomb drills by squeezing under our school desks. It wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns but it sure feels like it in hindsight, especially when it’s a movie version recreation. You probably wish you had been in the theatre with me last week, just to revisit an iconic moment in time. So here you go. Until next time, don’t even think about putting baby in the corner. Talking With Friends, Sharing the Load is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit joannapiros.substack.com/subscribe

  4. Sep 9

    Monday Mourning

    When someone you went to high school with dies, it doesn’t matter how close friends you were, or weren’t, or if you’ve kept in any kind of touch since then. When you hear of the death, years later, something in your present and future changes, because your past just did. Today I received a note telling me someone I had been in high school with, back in the 70s, had died during heart surgery and my first thought was, how does a teenager die in heart surgery? Crazy, yes, but because he was part of my teen years, and not my adult life, he’s never aged, changed, moved on. He was still 17 so far as I knew because I hadn’t seen anything to the contrary. Now I have, so now I can’t ignore the fact that he’s not 17 because he’s died, not in the 70s, but in his. High school deaths always conjure up premature, tragic and senseless loss. Freak accidents, motor vehicle carnage, suicide. There’s a cognitive disconnect between that concept, and the concept of age-related illness. People you knew in high school didn’t have to be close friends to be part of the landscape of those tectonic times. But that landscape shifts every time someone from those days is erased. So long as they were out there, their story was still unfinished — and so was mine. And if their future still holds possibility, so does mine, and yours. Although I ignorantly believed this was something only I had conjured up, plenty of others have trod these lino hallways in the name of science. In 1932, the psychologist Frederic Bartlett asked people to think about an old folk tale or story, and retell it many times over days and then weeks. What he found was a memory drift. With each retelling the stories began to conform to something the teller found made sense. This was the first scholarly look at how memory isn’t fixed, like a recording. He titled his experiments, War of the Ghosts which seems eerily apropos. Then, in 2000, Karim Nader and his team showed that when we try to remember something, that act makes the original memory unstable before it rewrites and reshelves it, and that is a bio-chemical process. It’s a little like pulling an old, much-loved book off the shelf, flipping through the pages and recognizing a few passages before putting it back. So, my remembering the schoolmates who have died, picturing them in the classrooms, hallways and on the playing fields of school, changes memories a little bit each time I “think back”. When a man who died at 71 is still 17 in my mind, it’s not a failure to update, it’s what my memory is designed to do: hold the last version I filed away, labelled “true”, until something forces a rewrite I didn’t choose. The more the past is whittled away, conforming to a more accurate present, the more conscious I am of how little time really is left. When you’re young, time is a linear construct, one year follows another but as you get older there are years, and then there are good years, and it’s the good, healthy, active years that are slipping away faster. Every death is a reminder of that infernal hourglass and its implacable contents and every death makes us sit up straighter and vow to make the most of the time we’ve been given but very quicky we forget those brave promises and allow quotidian reality to steer our days until they too become years and imperfect memories. Going way back with Joni Mitchell. Until next time, cherish your memories and book your flights. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit joannapiros.substack.com/subscribe

About

Some of my richest insights into ageing, health, love and grief, come from conversations with friends. This podcast is the audio version of those reports from the friend front, from the technology front, and from the reluctantly encountered shittiness epidemic. Topics include love, sex, technology, money, and very little politics. joannapiros.substack.com