Dear Santa. Please bring me sincere local politicians

Note to reader. After the political brouhaha about the coalition opposition trying to overthrow the government, and being thwarted by a government playing fast and loose with the constitution, the Friends of Canadian Broadcasting sent a message to all supporters on their mailing list to send a letter to their MP about support for culture. My MP is Rick Dykstra, a Tory.

The “Friends” had a form letter, which I modified as follows. Stick with me, it gets better in the response.

Dear Mr Dykstra,

Below you will find a standard letter that Friends of Canadian Broadcasting are sending to all MPs. Even though you are a Tory, I know that you understand the value of culture to Niagara. St Catharines is currently in the midst of a cultural renaissance, with the proposed Niagara Centre for the Arts and Brock’s School of Fine and Performing Arts getting significant donations and interest in the community. This sort of initiative will spur both economic growth and the expansion of artistic creativity. They are intermingled. Consider Silicon Knights. They build video games and make money, and to do it they rely upon the creative minds of visual artists to visualize the ideas of programmers; musicians to score the games and actors to voice the characters. This is a booming industry, and is but one that needs artists. So apart from the direct artistic industries like theatre, music and film, other businesses require and thrive on the input of creative arts, aka “culture.”

Yet your leader has denigrated culture as irrelevant.

Mr Dykstra, you know otherwise. I am asking you to support funding to the arts in all forms (notably the CBC, which is often a platform for new and emerging artists) so that Canada’s cultural image is not turned into just a cheap knockoff of American entertainment.

Here is the “friends’” message, to reiterate.

I ask you to use your influence to make sure that investing in culture is a key ingredient in Canada’s plan for economic recovery. As the Conference Board has identified, Canada’s creative economy counts for $6% of the GDP – $85 billion – and is extremely labour-intensive. Public broadcasting and other cultural industries offer a chance to build economic recovery while enhancing cultural sovereignty – a winning combination! Please let me know what you are doing to make sure this investment happens.

Sincerely,

Dan M

Now, I just received the reply. Here it is

Dear Ms. T*****e

Thank you for your message regarding arts and culture. I appreciate you taking the time to write about such an important issue.

Since forming government in 2006 we have committed to maintaining financial support to our arts and cultural sovereignty. We have invested more in arts and culture than previous governments through our funding for the Canada Council for the Arts, our national museums, and supporting arts and heritage. We have also committed to creating a new, refundable tax credit on up to $500 of fees for children under 16 who participate in eligible arts or cultural activities. Measures like these will promote the arts and culture that are so important in enriching our community.

Thank you again for taking the time to write and share your concerns. If there is ever anything else I can do for you, please feel free to contact my community office at 905.934.6767.

Regards,

Rick Dykstra, M.P.
St. Catharines

Now, dear reader, I don’t know if you have noticed this, but I’m not a “Ms” and my last name does not begin with a “T”.  (I had to anonymize it for obvious reasons).

Here is my subsequent reply to Ricky D

Dear Tricky Rick

I don’t know who Ms. T***** is, but I’m glad you personalize your form letters so efficiently.  It shows that you don’t care about what we say, and confirms stereotypes about uncaring politicians.

Thanks for not caring.  I hate it when my view of reality is challenged.

Three cheers for the cut-and-paste function.

And long live the coalition.

Dan M.

Dear Kim

It’s November 30.  We have toughed it out through thirty days of blogging.  Together, but not together.  Writing separately our little letters to various real and imaginary recipients.  Often indulging separately in a pasttime that binds us together: our mutual Statler and Waldorf-esque disdain for stupidity.

As usual, I wrote long, wordy and I’m sure quite dull posts about various things, profound and mundane (more of the latter, no doubt).  You wrote witty, interesting and often sensitive letters about things profound and mundane.  Both, I think, represented fundamentals of our personality: you are sensitive, witty and interesting, and I’m dull and long-winded.

Now we’re at the end of the month.  We discussed a few days ago the idea of writing the final letter to each other, and then I said today that I was not going to do that.  I said I didn’t know what to say.  You said just to say how awesome you are.

Now I know that you were kidding, tongue planted firmly in cheek as the saying goes, but, well, you know, that is actually a pretty easy thing to write about.  How awesome you are.  I’m not going to write a poem, insert links or youtube videos, or pictures of silly things.  I thought, in characteristic fashion, I’d ramble on…

You are pretty awesome but your ironic suggestion that I write something awesome about you is indicative of how often, it seems, you don’t believe it.  It is difficult, I know, to see and believe the impression of you that those around you hold, so I thought I’d just make some observations.

But first, the woman of the hour:

You are surrounded by people who love you, and in a very uncommon way.  Because you are so sensitive and caring of others, you bring a genuine interest to many of the people with whom you come in contact.  Oh sure, you can express tremendous frustration at distracted students or ignorant adults, and I’m sure want to run screaming from the many people that drive you nuts.  But at the same time, the ones with whom your life is entwined recognize your value and importance to them, and how much value and love you bring into their lives.

Examples, I tell my students, always give some examples.  Teaching.  You have a tremendous aptitude for cutting through the crap and reaching students in a way that they understand.  Oh, sure, not every dipshit in your class is going to follow your lead, but you have also told me of students who have come around to your side of things because you have treated them with respect and showed them that you’re not just another ignorant adult who thinks they’re dumb.  I know it’s not a great example, but consider your brief but important stint at the private-tutoring-organization-whose-name-shall-remain-unstated.  You quickly became the trouble shooter: you would take on the more difficult students, the more challenging ones, and those with significant interpersonal challenges.  And you often reached them.  You knew both instinctively and intellectually how to connect with people, and you do it with sensitivity and intelligence.  And it works. Awesome.

Then there’s the other side of who you are: the creative genius.  You may think that this is an exaggeration (and really, one person’s genius is another’s Asbergers) but look at what you do.  Your crafty hand is in every pie.  You pick up and run with a host of creative projects: baking, cooking, sewing, cutting-and-pasting (cards, scrapbooks, etc), knitting, felting, and you’re ready to go into spinning (save your nickels for that spinning wheel, baby, and maybe we can find room for you to spin).  I may have some issues with your obsessive pursuit of heirloom tomato varieties and the irony of it all (for those unclear on this: KEL don’t like tomatoes!!), but I never denied your dedication to the idea of nurturing-  what was it – twenty different varieties of tomato?  Almost all of which, sadly, did not make it through the summer.

I am in awe of your abilities, be it how you can reach those you teach, create beautiful items, or sit for hours reading books.  You can sit and turn a certain hyperactive two year old into a mercifully quiet and attentive listener as you read a book or make up a story.

On top of that, your ability to sleep almost anywhere is enviable.

I said I am in awe.  What does that mean?  I guess it means you’re awesome.

Now, there are issues.  The clutter, yes, we’ve discussed that.  The bazillion different handbags, okay, you like the variety.  The flitting from one project to another, half-finished quilts, single knitted socks, bags and boxes of yarn, the ever-emerging ideas of new things you could do or make… well, it’s just an aspect of your multifaceted interest.  (After all, it could, some day, make you Thorndale Fair Queen).

But then there’s the at-times crippling lack of self confidence.  That’s something we need to work on.  Hard as it may be for you to believe, you have a support network, a legion of fans, who all know you’re awesome.   They don’t think you’re a failure, or judge you for little things that you think make you useless or inadequate.  They’d be floored to read that you feel that way… but then again maybe not.  Because with your sort of capability can come tremendous humility.  That is good, humility is good, but at times you need to take a breath and repeat it: “so many people can’t be wrong!”   You have the respect, admiration and dedication of so many people, it’s almost unbelievable.  So I’m not really surprised that you don’t believe it yourself.

But you should.  Believe it.  You’re awesome.

And I love you.

Happy November 30, baby.  NaBloPoMo is OVER!

Your friend,

Dan

Dear university students (an open letter)

It’s the end of the term.  You are facing the challenge of essays, exams, buying other students’ notes and so on.  I have something I need to tell you that seems to be going unsaid.

Many of you appear to be completely unprepared to be in university.  Many of you seem not to have the basic analytical skills to go deeper than the surface ideas and “facts” that you are given, and at the same time lack the communications skills necessary to express whatever ideas you do have.  This is a problem.

There seems to be this idea that it is the job of universities to teach you how to write.  By the time many of you get to university (which, remember, is also known as “higher education”) you have been in some form of schooling for twelve or thirteen years.  After about grade seven, you’ve got the basic reading skills, and probably know your alphabet, how to write, and for many people these days, how to use a computer.  If you are reading this, you have logged on, probably typed in some kind of search term, and gone on to find this blog, of which, by now, youv’e read about 200 words.

So somewhere along the line the connection between basic communication and expressing more complex ideas was lost.  Where did this happen?  Was it the rise of the text message culture, where whole sentences are expressed like this or this or ROTFLMAO this?

Or is it a commercialized information based culture that fires reams of words at you, but does not want you to critically analyze those words?  Coke wants you to believe that there’s “Always Coca-cola” or McDonalds wants you to believe “I’m lovin it” or Nike tells you to “Just Do it” without you bothering to ask: what do you mean by always? or What am I lovin’? or do what!?

On top of this, it seems that the overworked and underappreciated high school teachers are letting you do things like cut and paste text from the internet and call it an essay.  You have not been asked to be critical, you have not been asked to be analytical, and you have not been asked to question the sources.  Believe me, if it is on the internet, it’s not necessarily fact.  Yeah, in fact (!) most of what is out there is not “fact” it’s just opinion or hypothesis presented as absolute truth.  It is not a fact, and neither is what I’m saying.

This is all really quite disconcerting.  When people lack these basic critical skills, they cease to recognize when they’re being handed a shit sandwich and being told it’s haute cuisine.  It has broad implications for our society at large.  When you can’t recognize crap, you can continue to be crapped upon.  (How much more scatological can I get, huh?)

Moreover, if you have an idea that something is wrong, but can’t express it clearly, then no one else is going to be able to know what the hell you’re talking about.  And if you do express your idea, but it is full of spelling errors and grammatical flubs, few people are going to take it seriously.

Don’t believe me?  When people want to express stupidity in writing, how do they do it? With the dropped “g” and apostrophe.  Not gunna take my wurd fer it?  Then wutcha doin’ still readin’ this blog?

Exactly.

And yes, this is elitist.  But it is not elitist in the way that saying some people are by birth better than others.  Because basic education is available to most, and many people, including myself, believe that education is a right.

Unfortunately, like the right to vote or the freedom of speech, many people deny themselves that right.  Oh, sure, they go to school.  They sit through class and don’t recognize that they’re not going to learn much if they are passive receptacles for information.

You know the saying “we learn from our mistakes?”  Well, it’s the same with education.  When you get something wrong, you learn that it is wrong, and maybe even what is right.  If you ask about it – say, ask the teacher “why is this wrong?” or the professor “what did I do wrong?” you might just learn something.  But few people do this.

Now, I teach at a university.  I have four hours a week set aside for students to come to speak to me about their papers.  Think that’s not a lot?  So do I.  But it’s, sadly, way more than enough.  After the first paper, on which many students did pretty poorly, two people came to see me.  Both of these students had at least a B grade, and they are probably both going to finish the course with either an “A” or at least a good solid B+.  They didn’t come to see me because they thought that I screwed them over on their papers: they came to see me because they wanted to know how they can improve.  These students were taught correctly, and know how to learn.

So please, take it from me, an anonymous professor who really likes to teach and wants people to learn.  You’ve got to step up a bit.  I have a friend who works in a big corporation, who complained to me that university grads are coming to work for him without basic communication skills.  Are they going to succeed?  I doubt it.  Unlike in university, when you get into the business world, there is not a lot of support for incompetence.  There is a door, and you will be shown to it.

So, follow these simple rules and you’ll be on your way to at least not being a total tool when you walk out of your graduation:

1. Question everything.  EVERYTHING.  Don’t become a dick in class and always say “I don’t believe you” to the prof, but definitely make sure that you have access to all the information you need.  And if there is something that really doesn’t make sense to you, speak up.
2. Use the resources made available to you.  This includes your teacher.  Their job is to teach, and if they walk out of the room at the end of the session while you still have questions, then you should be following them and asking those questions.
3. There really are no stupid questions.  There are stupid questioners, though.  I have had many students email me or (much less frequently) come to see me with a question that was answered in detail in the previous class.  These are students who chose not to come to class.  That’s stupid.  The fact that I answered the question in class demonstrates that it was not a stupid question.  The fact that they didn’t hear it… well, see the next point.
4. Go to class.  There is a saying: there are none so deaf as those who will not hear.  I had a first year philosophy prof modify that to: there are none so deaf as those who are not here.   It’s true.  How do you expect to get the information and analysis you need if you don’t come to class?  Someone else’s notes?  Do you trust them?  Apparently you missed #1, above!
5. Stop blaming others, and stop making excuses for yourself.  I know students who use every sick pass, “special needs” dispensation and excuse to get out of hitting deadlines or working.  Quit it.  It debases the time when people really do need these things (have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?) and demeans you.  Besides, no boss in the world is going to give you constant  permission to miss deadlines, claim you’re too busy to finish your work, or say “but I get nervous when I give presentations so the special needs people in my university said I don’t have to.”  Again, there’s the door.   [Listen, this is not insensitive.  I had a very good student get "special needs" to accommodate her because she got nervous before exams.  (I'd think she had a disability if she didn't get nervous!!)  She got permission to write her exam in a separate room with extra time.  She wrote easily three times as much as other students.  Was that fair to them?  Was she undermining her own integrity?  She definitely lost my respect.  Students with real learning disabilities should have access to support, but those who just take advantage of the opportunity because they get "nervous"--geesh.  That is abuse of the system.]
6. Read and write as much as you can.  By doing this, you begin to recognize how to express things clearly.  And I don’t mean read on-line.  If you’re blogging, texting, surfing and so on constantly, the odds are you’re learning to read short paragraphs, maybe a few sentences, and then moving on.  Sadly, you’ve probably quit before you got to this line.  (I’m not a Luddite, but get off the damn computer once in a while).  Take the time to read… Every word in that sentence is important, so let me break it out:

TAKE:  It’s free.  It’s yours. Seize it.

THE: Okay, just an article, but it is specific.  See below

TIME: Essential.  We have reified time, made it into something that seems subject to some sort of trade laws.  (you can buy, give, waste, spend, save, lose time: just like a commodity).  People say they have no time, but usually they are spending lots of time or wasting it, very often doing stuff that is a distraction.  Believe me, I can procrastinate like anyone else (I am after all blogging right now).  But the TIME is there.  And it is not just “some” time or “any” time.  It is THE time.  Very important. Block it out.  Seize this right of yours.

TO: Okay, preposition.  I’m not going to get into too much grammar, but it’s important in this context.

READ.  Read.  Read.  Read. Read.  Read actively.  Take the words.  Ask questions of them.  Even in fiction, (good fiction) there is a dialogue going on.  A good writer will lead you only so far, and ask you to either fill in the blanks, or to anticipate what is going to happen.  Non-fiction is even more important to actively read.  Ask questions.  If you are reading work for school, use a pencil and take notes in the margins (if its your book or article) or on a pad.  DON’T just highlight, because ultimately you’ll have blocks of words highlighted but no reminder to you of why you did it.  Every time you read you are participating in a conversation with the author.  Do you like just to sit and be told stuff? (do you really like two hour lectures?)  Then why would you do that when you read?  Engage with the author.  It’s way more interesting.

I’m spent.  I’ve been grading crappy papers by thoughtful students who don’t know how to write.  It’s frustrating.  But what’s worse is the students without a clue who also don’t know how to write.  They should not be in university until they figure it out.   But they’ll probably get the same degree as the clued-in ones in the class.  Yes, I’m elitist.  I think people who achieve should be rewarded, and people who do nothing, should get nothing in return.  Don’t perpetuate the problem.

Your friend,

Dan

Dear John Stanton

Back in December, 2005 I wrote to you asking you to consider putting a Running Room in Niagara.  At the time you said you were actively looking for a place to put one, seeking a manager and so on.

So far as I can tell, Niagara remains u serviced by your store.

Recently, I received a letter from a friend in Halifax who was extolling the virtues of the Running Room running groups. Supportive, not cliquish in a bad way, and fun.

It reminded me that I need to get off my butt and back on the road.  A few years ago I was training for a marathon (I was up to 36km long runs) when an injury to my psoas put me out of commission.  Given the location, it was difficult to target it for healing with things like Active Release or regular stretching.  After a long road of recovery, I ran a half marathon and pushed myself too far, thereby reinjurying.  I have since done some work with a personal trainer at a gym, and the psoas seems better, but the motivation to run has waned.  Once bitten, twice shy, right?

Now, I know that you’re not responsible for my injury, and I should be motivated by myself to get back on the road.  I agree, but at the same time I read all of the great stories in the Running Room magazine and think of the people who could be motivated around here to get out there and run.  And we have a few races in Niagara each year (I’ve seen you at the Niagara Falls marathon – the one that crosses the border) so there is definitely a group of runners.  Yet all we have is a few (very cliquey from what I’ve seen) Runner’s Edge stores.  It’s just not the same!

Please reconsider opening a Running Room somewhere in Niagara.  I know this region is very insular, and parochial, and it might take some time to break into the area.  But I also know many people go to Burlington or Hamilton to go to the running room there.  With over 400,000 people in this region (and milliions across the border in the USA), it just doesn’t seem right that you’re not here.

On top of that, both downtown Niagara Falls and downtown St. Catharines are experiencing a  renaissance. It’s a good time to get in there (esp. Niagara Falls, check out Queen St – even though I’m in St. Catharines)

Your friend,

Dan

Dear Karen and Zak(k)

I am writing this message to thank you sincerely for last weekend.

I guess I should elaborate for the benefit of my other reader.

Back in March I hit a birthday “milestone”.  Well, I guess it hit me.  A big one.  You know what I’m talking about.

I got some nice gifts, a lovely set of steak knives and so on (the steak knives are more of a metaphor than a literal set of steak knives). But really, it was a great birthday.

K&Z, you gave me a little card, with a clipping out of the Great Lakes Brewing News of several maps of nearby US states with the promise of a micro brewery tour.  “You choose the state, we’ll buy the beer” was sort of the gist of the message.  It would be what they call in these here parts “a 48″ (aka: 48-hours across the border = permission to bring more beer back duty free) all about me!

And if any of you knows me, you’ll know that a beer trip to the USA is an awesome gift.

So the original plan was to go to Michigan.  Big micro brewery state.  But quite far away.  It made sense in some ways–beer for me, antiques for K&Z and maybe KEL would get to some yarn stores.  But it was actually impractical for many reasons.  Not the least of which was, after one or two brewpubs, I’d be toast.  One needs to take it easy, to moderate the drinking in order to take in more samples.  So the best bet is somewhere with fewer, but high-quality, beer options.

Southern Tier is the awesome alternative.  And as fate would have it, it’s nearby.

So K&Z, you picked us up, drove us there, let us drink at Southern Tier, paid for some of the beer (I refused to let you pay for all the beer, because, well, that’s a lot of beer) and drove us home.

Over two days, that’s a lot of togetherness.  Lots of snoring, farting, sharing of bathrooms, grouchy mornings, “what do you want to do now”s and, for Zak especially, driving in what turned out to be less than ideal conditions.

I want to “publicly” thank you for that trip.  It was a great idea, very sweet and definitely something I can take to.  And, along with costing you what I imagine was a good bit of money, it ended up being two days off that you rarely get off together, with few antique stores for consolation, lame shopping malls, and, let’s face it, having to spend 48 hours with me.  Not my idea of a relaxing weekend, I can tell you (I can barely handle one hour with me).

Thanks again.  You’re really great.

Your friend,

Dan

Dear Stephen Harper and Jim Flaherty

I would like to believe that you are competent.  That you understand economics, and that you have your finger on the vagaries of the nation’s economy that most of us don’t quite get.  With that assumption, I have to assume that during the election you willfully misled (aka: lied to) the public when you insisted that the economy was not going into a recession.

Today you noted that we are in a “technical recession.”

Is that like a technical knock out? Doesn’t a boxer felled by a technical knock out still lose the fight?

Let’s face it, you’ve been playing fast and loose with the economy for political gain for years.  You slashed the GST, knowing that there are better – but not as politically juicy – ways to relieve tax burdens on the people.  You then ate through the hefty budget surplus you had inherited, a surplus which, had it been better managed, would have put us in much better stead when this inevitable economic downturn arose.  Then you called an election that violated the election law you had passed, because you sensed that you could win a majority.  Or was it because you sensed the economic danger on the horizon?  Whichever reason, it demonstrates the cynical and condescending way you govern.

Thank you for showing, once again, that politicians deserve the reputation as opportunistic liars.

Your friend,

Dan

PS  A copy of this letter was sent to the prime minister of Canada, though he’ll never read it.

Dear Southern Tier Brewing Company

By the time you read this letter I may well already be at your door.  I have been a distant admirer for a few years now, so let the stalking begin.

Although some of your more regular products are fairly straightforward, nice IPA but nothing spectacular, some of your specialty beers are the works of genius.  Your Creme Brulee stout is fantastic; the Jah-va and Choklat stouts have great ratings; in fact, it looks like your Blackwater line of stouts and porters are pretty amazing.  Not to mention, your great unearthly IPA makes me happy, and KEL can’t get enough of the raspberry porter.

I’ll be visiting you to see how you do it, and basically worship at the altar of malt, hops, yeast and clever little additions like coffee and vanilla bean.  I have high hopes for this trip–I could have gone to other places, but I chose you.  Michigan has many more brewpubs and breweries, and in an area like Chautauqua (birthplace of the chautauqua movement, an evangelical christian movement that espoused, among other things, temperance or even prohibition), where there are not a lot of other micro brew offerings, you must understand that this is quite a sacrifice.  Forget the nice scenery, the cute lake and rolling hillside.  I’m in it for the beer.

See you soon.

Your friend,

Dan

Dear Old Man Winter

Listen, your impending arrival hangs like the sword of Damocles over our heads all summer… August comes, we know you’re waiting.  September, we get a few days of hot weather and think “Maybe not this year,” but then there’s the rain.  October.  Uh oh, there’s that smell in the air…  November, a bit of snow in the air, but nothing accumulates.  December is when you’re supposed to drop that sword… if, unlike winter 2006-07, it drops at all.

Now, it’s not December yet, so you’re being a little impertinent with those big, accumulating flakes of snow.

I usually expect some positive result from letters like this, so you’d better just take it easy for a bit longer.  I still want to ride my bike, and the leaves aren’t all raked yet.  So back off.

Don’t make me come out there and smack you around.

Your friend,

Dan

Dear Sid Meier

Thank you for your creation, the Civilization series of video games.  You bastard.  Do you know how fricking addictive these games are?  I bet you do.  Geeze.  I’m sitting here, a few hours from teaching, propped up by  about ten hours’ sleep in two days and lots of coffee.  (I know, it would be a better complaint if I hadn’t slept at all, but I’m nothing if not honest).

I downloaded the demo for Civilization Revolution and was immediately hooked.  The possibilities (16 civilizations, building nuclear weapons, the united nations or a mission to Alpha Centurai) were just too tempting.  But I resisted buying the game.  I knew it would be too tempting.  I had to write a chapter this weekend.

Saturday evening, I was weak.  I had hit a wall with my work, and felt somewhat brain dead., needed chips and pops and distraction.   So, as a compromise, I headed to Blockbuster and rented your game.

It was the best decision I could have made, given my twitchy addict’s prediliciton to lose myself in simulated adventure.  That game is far too addictive to own… I’d never work again.

How could you do this to me?

I know, I’m blaming you.  But I could hardly blame myself, could I?  I mean, my ego is huge.  How could it not be?  I just conquered the world (again) this time as Isabella of Spain.

Your friend

Dan

PS. This letter was not sent to Sid Meier.

Dear WNED

I am sitting at my computer, looking at your website, wondering how the heck I can call you to give you some money.  I hear the pledge number on the radio, but when I’m listening at breakfast, my hands are full so I figure I’ll just go onto the computer, find the number on the website, and call.  The problem is, I can’t find the number.

Why, you ask, won’t I just use the on line pledge form?  Am I a luddite?  Am I afraid of sending money over the intarweb?

Nope, not at all.  Amazon.ca is my shopping mall.  But WNED is about community.  Speaking to a human being is just a little more, erm, human, than just filling in a form.

After digging around, I found a toll-free number for your membership department.  I figured, well, if this isn’t the pledge number, surely they’d be able to give me the pledge number.  But when I got the answering machine, it said nothing about the pledge line.  It was as if there was no pledge drive going on.

I kept digging; I found other numbers, the number for the program dept, the main office, other things like that.  But NOWHERE on your website have you listed the toll-free pledge number.  At least not in an easy to find way.

This seems to me to be a strategic error (or is it tactical?  I’ll ask John McCain). I have a sneaking suspicion that you’ll find many people who pledge prefer to phone; and many people who listen to WNED might not be all that comfortable sending money over the ‘net.

As far as I see it, during a pledge drive, contact information should be key.  You fill the space between songs with such pleas; why doesn’t the website (and anwering machines) include that information righ tup front.

I finally got the number when I was listening on line, but was discouraged initially when I couldn’t find it.  Others might be the same way.

It might be a small demographic for whom this appeals, but as your announcers keep reminding us, every little bit helps.

Please keep up the good programming, and I am very happy now to be a member.  With the slow choking of good classical radio programming in Canada (CBC 2′s remaining classics show is a bit of a disaster) you are an breath of fresh air.

Your friend,

Dan