Speak with the dead? Whole crowds of them at times, at other times, individuals who sidle up and start a conversation; others lounging in the background like Roman esthetes pitching bon mots into the air, authors of books and plays; ancestors including dear old mom and a couple of dads, both dear in their way, a high school friend of a particular intensity who crashed his car but won't tell me whether on purpose or not, a few special teachers. Words of wisdom, words of encouragement, words of opprobrium that are still burn like salt in an open wound, words that derailed me for good or ill but words that enabled me to lay down tracks across virgin territory. Some are optimists, some the opposite, some are cynics some the opposite; many are sarcastic, almost all have memorable laughs. We all live in one another's midst. None are ghosts, for none have ever really died.
My family used to go see the vinyl Café every Christmas. The last year I went before I moved to the US, my grandmother was the oldest person in the audience and Chloe was the youngest person in the audience. I remember feeling so proud and Canadian.
Beautifully written description of a man many of us only knew from The Vinyl Cafe. I’m happy to hear there was a sweary, mildly scary side to him as well.
Lovely. Stuart McLean was a treasure. I was never a huge fan of the Dave & Morley part of the The Vinyl Café. I just can't be arsed with how dumb Dave was in the stories. For effect, I know, but still...
My favourite bit of Stuart was a show he did where he interviewed people in the dome car of the CPR as it travelled across Canada. That was brilliant. I don't talk to people who are dead. But I invoke them, and remember them, and laugh at their (still) bad jokes, and maybe that's similar. Always happy to see your notification in the mailbox.
After 25 years with one woman named Claudia (see pinned tweet), who died 23 years ago, I can say I haven't talked to her spirit, or any of my other loved ones who have slipped the mortal coils. I like your thoughts on Mr.McL. though: "His delivery is both soothing and giddy, a kind of subtle Jedi-mind trick of cadence and gesture." You point to his dual nature, which reminded me of how my father, on spending an afternoon with Pierre Berton, remarked that he was 'really not as stuffy as he seems.' My dad has long been a ghost but parts of him sprout from me when I'm not really paying attention. We inhabit a ghoulish cellular universal oneness I suspect; full of tricks and treats.
I also miss Stuart on the radio. I appreciate this glimpse into what the *real* Stuart was like. Sometimes I talk to my dear old Dad, who passed away nearly 12 years ago.
As someone who sometimes has conversations with people who I wish were dead, I fear that I’m in another category altogether. Perhaps if the political and actual climates stop collapsing in rhyming time that will change and I will start apologizing to my deeply loved, long-deceased father for not having paid attention to what he tried to tell me but about which I did not listen.
I never met Stuart but he was in my life for pretty much all of his career. Millions of us boomers know him from this encounter with Peter Gzowski. A radio highlight. https://youtu.be/uR-ZmHxbT9k
LOVED Stuart Maclean and I still miss him. First heard him in Winnipeg (thanks CBC) and finally got to see him, years later, in Ottawa. I treasure his books! Thank you for sharing a memory of him-on Halloween yet!
I may be one of the few that didn’t love the Vinyl Cafe, but this reflection makes me think again about how you perceive someone in the media, and what can be beneath their persona. He sounds scary, and fantastic. I love this advice. Act now, because you are already dead.
Leah, this writing is superlative. I don't believe it gets any better. Even if I had never encountered Stuart and the Vinyl Cafe, I would understand what a national treasure we have lost.
Speak with the dead? Whole crowds of them at times, at other times, individuals who sidle up and start a conversation; others lounging in the background like Roman esthetes pitching bon mots into the air, authors of books and plays; ancestors including dear old mom and a couple of dads, both dear in their way, a high school friend of a particular intensity who crashed his car but won't tell me whether on purpose or not, a few special teachers. Words of wisdom, words of encouragement, words of opprobrium that are still burn like salt in an open wound, words that derailed me for good or ill but words that enabled me to lay down tracks across virgin territory. Some are optimists, some the opposite, some are cynics some the opposite; many are sarcastic, almost all have memorable laughs. We all live in one another's midst. None are ghosts, for none have ever really died.
Thank you for a wonderful start to my day! I miss Stuart on my radio.
me too!
My family used to go see the vinyl Café every Christmas. The last year I went before I moved to the US, my grandmother was the oldest person in the audience and Chloe was the youngest person in the audience. I remember feeling so proud and Canadian.
his Christmas show was the best. Dave cooks a turkey!
Beautifully written description of a man many of us only knew from The Vinyl Cafe. I’m happy to hear there was a sweary, mildly scary side to him as well.
I loved his face. Impish.
But also banana-like!
Lovely. Stuart McLean was a treasure. I was never a huge fan of the Dave & Morley part of the The Vinyl Café. I just can't be arsed with how dumb Dave was in the stories. For effect, I know, but still...
My favourite bit of Stuart was a show he did where he interviewed people in the dome car of the CPR as it travelled across Canada. That was brilliant. I don't talk to people who are dead. But I invoke them, and remember them, and laugh at their (still) bad jokes, and maybe that's similar. Always happy to see your notification in the mailbox.
Stuart had subconscious contempt for Dave, that’s my theory anyway.
After 25 years with one woman named Claudia (see pinned tweet), who died 23 years ago, I can say I haven't talked to her spirit, or any of my other loved ones who have slipped the mortal coils. I like your thoughts on Mr.McL. though: "His delivery is both soothing and giddy, a kind of subtle Jedi-mind trick of cadence and gesture." You point to his dual nature, which reminded me of how my father, on spending an afternoon with Pierre Berton, remarked that he was 'really not as stuffy as he seems.' My dad has long been a ghost but parts of him sprout from me when I'm not really paying attention. We inhabit a ghoulish cellular universal oneness I suspect; full of tricks and treats.
happy halloween Leah!
The dead aren’t as stuffy as they seem
funny, when I reviewed the memory of my dad's story of Mr.B. I thought of the phrase: "He's such a stuffed shirt."
I also miss Stuart on the radio. I appreciate this glimpse into what the *real* Stuart was like. Sometimes I talk to my dear old Dad, who passed away nearly 12 years ago.
The stage Stuart wasn’t less real but we are all multitudes, even in death… maybe this is the point x
As someone who sometimes has conversations with people who I wish were dead, I fear that I’m in another category altogether. Perhaps if the political and actual climates stop collapsing in rhyming time that will change and I will start apologizing to my deeply loved, long-deceased father for not having paid attention to what he tried to tell me but about which I did not listen.
Ahahaha -- I have those conversations too, but they have a very different tone!
I never met Stuart but he was in my life for pretty much all of his career. Millions of us boomers know him from this encounter with Peter Gzowski. A radio highlight. https://youtu.be/uR-ZmHxbT9k
Omg, the crickets!
LOVED Stuart Maclean and I still miss him. First heard him in Winnipeg (thanks CBC) and finally got to see him, years later, in Ottawa. I treasure his books! Thank you for sharing a memory of him-on Halloween yet!
there was no one like him
I may be one of the few that didn’t love the Vinyl Cafe, but this reflection makes me think again about how you perceive someone in the media, and what can be beneath their persona. He sounds scary, and fantastic. I love this advice. Act now, because you are already dead.
Leah, this writing is superlative. I don't believe it gets any better. Even if I had never encountered Stuart and the Vinyl Cafe, I would understand what a national treasure we have lost.
Thank you so much!