observations and opinion
In tribute to Canada’s storyteller, I have written and read aloud a story: “Dave, Morley and the kids drive to Stuart’s funeral.”
Stuart McLean was something of a secular saint in this country, and certainly in my downtown Ottawa neighbourhood. The night he died, a colleague joked (gently) that there would probably be a candlelight vigil on Bank Street. We chuckled, and we toasted the departed radio road warrior and troubadour.
Years back, when the Vinyl Cafe began, I did not like it. I didn’t like the voice, or the characters too much. But as time passed, I grew up a little and Stuart McLean grew on me.
As it turned out, the voice that sometimes drove me crazy, also grew familiar. And I came to enjoy making fun of the Vinyl Cafe a little, telling the occasional tale in my amateur rendition of Stuart McLean’s story telling timbre. A modest ability which now gives me the chance to say a “vinyl farewell” to Mr. McLean.
Thank you, Mr. McLean, for all you did for this country of ours.