Dear Stuart,
I don’t think for a minute you will remember me. But I remember you. Like many other Canadians, I followed your documentaries on Sunday Morning. I laughed at the ailing cricket adventure on Morningside. (“That cricket is not well, Stuart.”) And, of course, I loved The Vinyl Café. Letters were an important part of that program, so I decided to write this one to you.
I work for the…
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