Fuddle Duddle my Ass

Journal Entry - Montreal
Monday evening. May 19th, 1980.

We're all pretty tense. Even Don (Harron) has been barking and biting which is hugely out of character.

We have two - mostly live - shows to do with no rehearsals. That's six hours of national radio on the biggest story of our careers. Our "team" consists of 3 producers, one Exec, one p.a., and a handful of freelancers.

No wonder the Retriever has become a Pitbull.

I keep thinking that in a hundred years from now some historian is going to dig out a tape of our shows and listen to them. The guests we book, the scripts we write, the editorial choices we make will colour how future generations experience this moment in time and THEY won't give a damn how under resourced we are. So I'd better be sure that the voices I send off into the future are worth listening to.

Canada, May 1980. Yes or No ?

We have a solid first hour for show #1 - I'm going to spend the night after the vote on the streets of Montreal collecting tape with a freelancer - Josh Freed. We're going to meet back in the plant about 4am and build some sort of audio montage. A kind of this-was-the-night-that-was type of essay.

After that I've booked a GREAT panel.

Daniel Johnson (liberal business leader), Pierre Bourgault (old PQ politico), Aislin (the Gazette cartoonist), Lise Bissonette from Le Devoir and Nick Auf der Maur who describes himself as a "boulevardier"... which really means local shit disturber.

Then we're going coast to coast for reaction from as many Premiers as we can get. I'm trying to talk Lougheed into coming to the Edmonton studio but I had a fight with his media guy Ron Leippert when I was a freelancer so it's a long shot.

To round out the hour Max Ferguson is going to come on and be silly. He does a great Trudeau...so my idea is to have Max-as-Trudeau burst into the studio demanding to be heard. Dault's not sure. But I say - Just Watch Me.

Fuddle Duddle my ass.

Today in the CBC cafeteria one of the managers gave a speech to rally the troops. I couldn't help but feel like some kind of virus. It's been a strange few weeks here. The other staff look at us sharply, the plant management are pricks (they had my car towed from the CBC lot because I didn't have a parking sticker), and the security guard checks my pass every time I come in although I've done it a hundred times now. Other people simply walk by - but not us.

We're known as the "Toronto people" - which for me, is pretty ironic.

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