Dear Dave & Morley I'd begin, and let the sentence trail-off in my head. I'd heard Stuart start many stories this way, and always appreciated the depth of character he'd uncover in the telling.
He was good at that - good at using a covering imagery like the history of a town in Cape Breton, or the writing of a letter to a neighbour's son to curl around us, engaging our curiosity into the details that he vividly painted into our ears and embraced our imaginations with. We were drawn in until we were so deeply sunk into his narrative that we missed a set-up - until it was sitting on us, smiling down like a cheshire cat and Stuart's voice would deepen and lift at the same time, cueing us to notice the situation, or the character's reaction, or the absurdity of where we'd all gone. Together. And he'd pause.People remember that he made them laugh. Hilariously so, about turkey's, a drip from a lightbulb onto our forehead, or even Dave's hypochondria. They recall the sweet little tears he brought out as he unearthed someone's empathy, kind spirit, or resilience - illustrating it poignantly, helping us all recognize those same feelings in ourselves. Without doubt he touched many people. Stuart taught us about parenting, our own fears and anxieties, and life in our own communities through his invitation to the Cafe and the adventures of Dave, Steph, Sam and Morley. The key was his voice, wistful and knowing. Richly rhythmic with stunning timing and the expert knowledge of how to say ..... nothing, drawing out our anticipation in knowing smiles and pre-laughter. Listen yourself to a few stories, and you'll see. But I digress... Dear Dave and Morley, I have some news.
There are an estimated 400+ stories, about the universe that Stuart created and I can't say that I've heard them all. There's a great big board the way I imagine it - with names, dates, places and relationships linked all together, probably with yarn. Otherwise how could he have kept it all straight. As we listened it was those little details, Morley's love of figure skating, or characters from his hometown in Cape Breton when growing up with Annie, or the neighbours running the shops next to the Cafe, like Kenny Wong and his Scottish Meat Pies that made it all come to life. There's a depth to these tales that binds them together and would have allowed for the next story, and the next one and the next. Only there won't be a next one. Dear Dave and Morley, I have some news. Some bad news...
As I sat and turned over on the ideas of what I needed to pass along, days drew long as I stumbled time and time again. How do you tell someone that their world changed and they had no future At the same time how do we share the tremendous gratitude that you deeply feel, that so many feel for the times spent together. It's an end, as surely and completely as an end ever was, but at the same time it's a time to acknowledge the hours spent together, and the moments we were assembled as one in laughter, sadness and life's precious lessons.
Dear Dave And Morley, I re-started, I have some news. Some bad news. But you're going to be fine, in fact we're all going to be fine as we still have one another. It seems that...........
It is I'd hope, all that Stuart would have asked for.
______________________________
Stuart McLean was the host and creator of The Vinyl Cafe on CBC Radio. On a weekly basis he created the worlds that Dave, Morley, Sam, Stephanie and countless others inhabited and allowed the rest of us to visit, observe and learn from. Luckily for us, Stuart was prolific. Stuart passed away on Feb 15th, 2017.
The Vinyl Cafe can be visited still, and it's a worthwhile way to hear how well stories can be told.
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