Dear guys from The evening is (still) young,
Posted at 7:15 a.m.
What a final you made us live, Sunday evening, at MTELUS. I came there to laugh, as I have done for years when I listen to you. But I admit that I underestimated the emotional charge that accompanied the end of this adventure.
Hey boy! It trickled down her cheeks. Jean-Philippe, Jean-Sébastien and even Olivier, all three of you let your emotions speak. You weren’t afraid to say in front of hundreds of admirers that this experience was and will be one of the most significant of your life.
Until the very end, true to yourselves, you were funny, bitch and touching as hell. What a great moment it was for those lucky enough to get their hands on a pass.
Normally, during a live taping of a radio show, the crew is already on stage in preparation for the show. You, you appeared in front of your excited fans the second the musical signature started. The MTELUS false curtain went up and you were greeted like rock stars.
I will remember this moment!
Rock stars, that’s a bit what you were for this audience, probably the most beautiful that a radio team can dream of. Lit, young and varied.
Women have told me that this evening was their Mother’s Day gift. Let’s say that when Jean-Sébastien put on Claude Blanchard’s jacket and joked “once upon a time there was a Jew, a Black and a Fefi”, I thought to myself that we were far from the beautiful naive drawings that mothers normally receive that day.
As your fiery fans have been doing for several days (some still find these endless goodbyes), I wanted to thank you for these exciting radio moments that transfigured the kitchen from where I listened to you while preparing a couscous or a Bolognese. In fact, you controlled my weekend schedule.
My happy hours were for you. I was in communion with you three.
And beware of my boyfriend who dared to come and talk to me during these times. He had the solid valve closed. Because it must be said, your show forced us to listen absolutely. If we lost track for ten seconds, we were screwed. This aspect, hated by some listeners, was one of the show’s strengths.
We had to have all the codes, all the keys, to follow you properly. From there this fan-club which venerated you to the point of sending you gifts as it was done at the time of Jacques Boulanger and his emission Boubou in the metro.
Dear Jean-Philippe, one day, I sent you a message to tell you how excellent I thought you were. You answered me that sometimes you wondered what you were used for. It surprised me. Jean-Sébastien, Olivier and the many guest columnists (represented on Sunday by Rosalie Vaillancourt) composed with a “number”. You had to constantly catch the ball and throw it back without a script. You had the most difficult role on the show. And you were up to it.
PHOTO OLIVIER JEAN, THE PRESS
Rosalie Vaillancourt, guest columnist
Olivier, brilliant Olivier. By your comments which tie up in an admirable way the remarks of the politicians and certain chroniclers gleaned on various waves, you raised the art of the blooper. We will sorely miss your keen eye on the news. Besides, I will always keep the memory of this interview in a pizzeria with you. Your short answers didn’t leave me time to swallow the bites of my salad. I understood that in your company, an interviewer must not eat.
Jean-Sébastien, you branded this show with a hot iron. Regardless of the concept (The recipe of our stars, Allo bobo…), you tackled sometimes very delicate subjects while walking on a tightrope. We owe you moments of delirium that I never thought I would hear on public radio. To Everybody talks about it, Olivier said of you that you were a mixture of Mike Ward and Serge Laprade. This is very fair. Thank you for these moments of audacity.
And thank you for falsely telling the public about your true nature. This tenth degree bears witness to the path traveled in Quebec.
We can’t talk about The evening is (still) young without mentioning the name of Fred Savard. Despite the bitterness that accompanied his departure, this member leaves very strong memories. Together, you have formed a hell of a quartet. The live and live broadcasts with you four are some of my fondest radio memories.
The void created by Savard’s departure was filled by the famous “ladies of hearts”.
On Sunday, you chose my three favourites: Anne-Marie Cadieux, Élise Guilbault and Nathalie Petrowski. When they went on stage Sunday, a flute in hand, on the theme of André Gagnon divinely massacred by Jean-Sébastien, I admit that I had chills.
You were sometimes adorable with them, sometimes very mean. But, like victims of Stockholm syndrome, they kept coming back to you.
PHOTO OLIVIER JEAN, THE PRESS
Olivier Niquet, Anne-Marie Cadieux and Élise Guilbault
Some thought it was a guy show. Yes ! And so what ? It was a show that brought together guys, but not boboys, not machos (the emotions and the tears of Sunday bear witness to this), not big fools. You are guys of your time. In that sense, it was so good to hear from you.
The end of your show made me realize the importance of freedom of speech in the media.
With other colleagues (I’m thinking of the gang of The more the merrier, the more we read), you have helped to strip this radio, to uninhibit it, to reinvigorate it. I already wrote in a column a few years ago that with you, “the bosses of Radio-Canada” had put their “hand in the wringer” and that they had no other choice but to ‘go further.
This freedom, you went to seek it. But as you said on Sunday evening, bosses and bosses also offered it to you. That, you have to remember.
Like 40-year-olds who have become old croutons before their time, you wanted to be able to enjoy your weekends to go to the arena, see your children grow up or your mother grow old.
It’s correct ! We accept it!
Come on, guys, I wish you a great summer! But I also hope that on an arena bench next winter, while waiting for your son to score a goal, you wonder whether to stop The evening is (still) young was a good idea.
See you soon, I hope !