GE 1995 Season 2 Episode 8: Paulitorial
Note: this is not a transcript, but a working draft of the script, so there may be differences in the aired version.

PAULITORIAL - 8

PAUL:	Here they are ... hundreds of messages from listeners who have 
	become friends ... We've received letters and postcards from all 
	over: here's one from Yellowknife; and a letter from Cal-gary; 
	Saskatoon, Sask ... where is that ?; god, here's one from 
	Cleveland, Ohio; and here's one with ... oh, cut - out letters ... 
	well.  They've poured in from all over Canada, every province and 
	territory, and from as far away as Atlanta.  Thank you all for your 
	kind words.  "Love your program, keep up the good work ... my 
	ears are yours, Nfld already owns my heart ... my disgust knows 
	no bounds ... (oh, humph) ... delicious ... I beseech you not to 
	decommission the coal-fired transmitter ... BCN forever ..." oh, 
	my.  And on they go.  Almost embarrasing.  Just a moment ... I ... 
	a little emotional ... 

	But never fear, I have all your addresses now ... so maybe I'll give 
	you a call and stay on your couch the next time I'm passing 
	through your town ... 
	
	Eight weeks of The Great Eastern across this great country ... not 
	even enough for UI ... heh-heh-heh, just kidding ... I'd like to have 
	the time to answer all your queries, but you know, it's a lot of work 
	putting these shows together ... and next week is another 
	production week here at the BCN ... We'll go on.  Having made all 
	these friends, though, it'll be tough, we'll be on our own now.  But 
	so will you.

	What's it been like, this summer of `95 ?  Remember your first 
	summer romance ?  We met on the beach, took long walks 
	through the woods, getting excited simply by holding hands.  We 
	shared the wonder of birds in flight, startled rabbits on the 
	footpath, a moose wading through a marsh, campfires, the flash 
	of shooting stars across the sky.  And then last Saturday, we 
	fumbled into our first kiss, and I copped an innocent feel.
	Tomorrow, Canada, you're gone.  You will have gone back to 
	wherever it is you live, gone back to school, gone back to work, 
	gone back to your life ... forgetting me and leaving me, swollen 
	with love, in my solitary cabin.
	
	"Good-night, good-night !  Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall 
	say good-night till it be morrow."