Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe - Compromising Positions - The Bare Truth & Yoga Retreat

Episode Date: September 12, 2025

“Mary had never ever been downstairs with no clothes on. Never. Ever.”We’ve got some classic Dave and Mary Turlington adventures on this week’s episode – as they find themselves in some compromising positions! And Jess talks about how Stuart honed his onstage craft over the years. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Thank you for your patience. Your call is important. Can't take being on hold anymore. FIS is 100% online, so you can make the switch in minutes. Mobile plans start at $15 a month. Certain conditions apply. Details at FIS.ca. From the apostrophe podcast network.

Hello, I'm Jess Milton, and this is backstage at the Vinyl Cafe. Welcome. We've got two funny stories for you today, some classic slapstick shenanigans involving Dave and Mary Turlington. Dave and Mary in what can only be described as compromising positions or potentially. essentially compromising positions. In our first story, Mary gets herself trapped in an exposed spot. And in our second story, Dave finds he's not quite as flexible as he thought he was. We're going to start with this one. This is an old one. So old that I suspect some of you, probably most of you, won't have heard it before. This is Stuart McLean with the bare truth. So Bert and Mary Turlington live beside Dave and Morley in a large semi-detached brick house.

They've been neighbors for 15 years. And although their children are different ages, Adam Turlington, two years younger than Stephanie, the Turlington twins two years older than Sam, they have spent, if not a lot of time together, enough time on the street in each other's backyard on various neighborhood and school committees to know each other well enough and to appreciate the other's neighborly presence. They would not under normal circumstances have become friends, but they are neighbors, and because they're neighbors, they have become friendly.

Bert Turlington's a criminal lawyer. Dave has always enjoyed his company and his stories, stories he likes to tell about his dubious clients. Mary Turlington's a chartered accountant, and Morley shares a view of the world with Mary, defined by the bonds of motherhood more than anything else. Though they have become friendly, they have not become close. No doubt because Mary and Dave have never found common ground.

Dave thinks Mary's stiff. Mary thinks Dave is sanctimonious. There's something phony about him, she said to Bert last Saturday morning, all that anti-bourgeoisie stuff. The appearance he likes to give that he doesn't care about money, the music. It's like he thinks he's still in college. you watch you'll be dressed like Adam tonight he'll be wearing one of those grungy plaid shirts tonight was last saturday night Dave and Morley were expected at the Turlington's for dinner

Morley was going to be late something at the theater I can leave when the curtain goes up she said I can be there soon after eight Dave would be there at six at two o'clock that afternoon Saturday afternoon four hours before Dave was due to arrive Mary Turlington was about to climb into the shower. She was standing in the bathroom squinting suspiciously at a new bottle of rainforest nut meat hair shampoo. Bert poked his head into the bathroom and said he was going to pick up some beer. Mary waved him away impatiently. She had two things on her mind that she wanted to do before she began cooking dinner. She wanted to wash and set her hair and she wanted to clean the pots and pans. She had bought some new gunk that

she had seen advertised on television, stuff that was supposed to remove the rings from around the outsides of the pots. And the shampoo, it was new too. It had promised on the container that she would step out of the shower as if she were stepping out of a tropical rainforest with a sheeny head of lustrous hair cascading down her back. Just shake it dry, read the instructions. The water droplets will bounce away like dew. When Mary stepped out of the shower and shook her head, her hair moved in one sodden, helmety clump. Like matted felt.

Like she had just shampooed with Elmer's glue. Damn, she said. It was 2.30 in the afternoon. It was going to take her half an hour to untangle a mess. She was planning to cook a risotto. She wasn't going to have the time to clean the pots and get dinner ready, and that didn't make her happy. The thought of preparing a risotto in front of Dave who would sit at the kitchen table and drink a beer and yak at her while she cooked, the thought of Dave watching her prepare dinner in stained cookware propelled Mary into doing something she's never done in her life.

She bolted out of the bathroom with nothing on. She ran downstairs stark naked. and she began pulling all the pots and pans out of the pot cupboard. She was thinking that if she could get the gunk on the pots, they could season while she ran back upstairs and untangled her hair. And she'd be more or less back on schedule. Mary had never, ever been downstairs with no clothes on in her life.

Never, ever. It's just not the sort of thing that Mary Turlington does. but she was alone in the house Bert was getting the beer the twins were at a movie God knows where Adam was and Mary was moving Mary was moving so fast

she didn't even notice what it felt like to be nude in the kitchen now Bert and Mary have a galley kitchen it's small and contained and cut off from the rest of the house one way in one way out hold on

There's a large eating area adjacent to it with a sliding glass door that leads out onto their patio. Well, Mary had all the pots on the pans out of the cupboard and had arranged them upside down on the counter when someone knocked on the patio door. When they knocked, Mary lifted right off the ground and spun around and came down in a crotch facing the door and waited.

They knocked again. She looked around desperately for something to cover herself. The only thing she could see was a tea towel hanging on the handle of the stove. She reached out and snatched it and held it out in front of her. Her what? It was not much bigger than a handkerchief. The tea.

towel was not much bigger than a handkerchief. The tea towel clearly wasn't up to the job. Her heart was racing. Don't panic she thought as she backed into the corner of the kitchen, waving the towel in front of her like a bullfighter. don't panic she thought whoever was knocking couldn't see her from the door if she didn't do anything surely they would go away and then the glass door slid open and mary draped the tea towel over her head Hello? Is that a voice? Is anyone home?

It was Dave. Who else? If she didn't move, surely he would go away. Hello, said Dave louder, stepping into the family room. Yo, Dave! it was Burt coming up the basement stairs. Back from the beer store already. Now, Mary was not at this moment acting rationally.

There was only one place to go. And so, with lizard-like agility, that's where Mary went. Head first into the cupboard she had just emptied a pot. The cupboard was directly under the countertop stove. not much bigger than a dishwasher. It had two doors separated by a four-inch wooden post. Mary snaked around the post and folded herself up like a croissant. There was one shelf.

It had always annoyed her because it wasn't nailed down and it rattled whenever she took a pot off it. If it hadn't been loose, she wouldn't have fit in there. She wouldn't have fit under normal circumstances in any case. She was carried into the cupboard on the wave of her anxiety. She lay there on her side in the fetal position with her back pressed against one wall and her feet pressing against the other, her knees pushing into her chest, her face smushed against the cupboard door.

Dave was standing a few feet from her. No one's home at my place, he was saying, and I've locked myself out. I'm not sure if you guys still have a key. Burt disappeared and returned almost immediately. I thought she was upstairs, he said. She must have gone out to pick stuff up for dinner. I was just going to fix some lunch. Are you hungry?

I'll make you an omelet. And then he said, I wonder why she has all the pots out like this. And Mary thought he's going to open the cupboard. He's going to open the cupboard to check. if there are any pots left. And she thought, what's going to happen when her husband reaches into the cupboard looking for a pan and comes out

with a handful of his wife? What would he think had been going on? Walking into his house and finding his neighbor standing in his kitchen and his naked wife stuffed into the cupboard. If he opened the door, she was going to have to act fast. She'd jump out and yell, surprise. She'd let the chips fall where they may.

It was the best she could think of. Now, Mary is slightly claustrophobic at the best of times. She gets anxious when the subway stops inexplicably between the stations, when elevators seem to have arrived at the floor but the doors don't open when the power goes off and everything is so black you can't see her hand she couldn't see her hand now

and she was starting to get anxious she felt like something was sitting on her chest she could feel her heart beating rapidly feel the moths beginning to flutter around in her stomach she could also feel her leg going to sleep she began to worry that there wasn't enough air in there with her she felt like she had been canned her leg was beginning to cramp

and now it was starting to twitch she thought of what happened to their dog's back leg when you scratched its belly she felt like her leg was going to start banging away like that any moment Jesus, if it started to thump away like that, like it was out of control, and Bert opened the door and found her there. Oh, my God, she thought.

A half an hour passed, 45 minutes. The omelet was eaten and forgotten. She'd been in there an hour and 15 minutes. It was like a steam bath in there. And Dave and Bert were still sitting at the table, picking at a cheesecake that was supposed to be for dessert? And then Bert said, I was supposed to pick up some beer. You can come if you want, or you can stay. The Canadian Tire catalog just came in. You can stay and check it out if you

want. Mary didn't hear what Dave decided. She heard the patio door open and close, and then she heard nothing. A deep and dead silence. She said, She cracked the door and light and cool air flooded into her predicament. She couldn't see anyone or anything, but she decided to wait for a few minutes. Even if she had opened the door completely, she wouldn't have seen Dave slouched on the couch in the family room. On the other side of the kitchen counter, he was clear out of view, staring morosely at the Canadian tire catalog.

He turned a few pages absent-mindedly, and then he looked at his wrist and up at the phone on the wall. Twenty-five minutes had passed since he had last called home. He stood up and he walked across the family room to the small white desk beside the phone, just like Mary Turlington, he thought. Every piece of paper obsessively organized, there were cubby holes on the wall above the desk. Each one carefully labeled bills to pay, filing, school notices, paychecks. Dave's eyes opened. There was an envelope in the slot marked paychecks.

K-P-N-G, the accountancy firm where Mary worked. He reached out and he slid the envelope up an inch and a half. It had been slid open, but he could see through the little window that there was a check or at least a check stub inside, and he dropped it back in place. He would have left it there if it had been Bert's check, but it was Mary's check. Mary who always made him feel like he was a child Mary who always insinuated that running a record store was child's play

like he couldn't do that and be a serious adult he always thought he made nearly as much money as she did and this was his chance to find out he picked the envelope up and he turned it over in his hands and then he pulled the pay stub out upside down and then something startled him there was a noise a breath maybe something he didn't quite hear something he sensed more than he heard

more a presence than a sound something that told him he wasn't alone he felt like he was being watched and he whirled around and for the briefest moment locked eyes with mary she was standing on the far side of the kitchen counter and then she vanished a pink blur that disappeared right in front of his eyes. Gone so fast that Dave couldn't register with certainty what exactly he had just seen. He dropped the paycheck back on the slot and he sat down on the couch not completely certain

what had happened and what he should do. Mary didn't appear again until Bert returned with a beer. Soon after Bert came home, Mary wandered downstairs and her Alfred sung separates, wearing a string of pearls, and looking her normally sophisticated self, except the zipper on the back of her skirt wasn't zipped completely shut, and Bert had to tuck in the label of her top, which was sticking out in a most unmarry-like way. There was an odd air to the dinner that night, a vague undercurrent of something that morally tried to quantify as she and Dave walked home. She started with Mary's hair. What was

What did you think of it? She asked Dave. What, said Dave? I didn't notice. It was pretty high fashion, said Morley. All stiff and swept over to one side. Like it was glued or something. She kept going as she unlocked the front door,

but there was something else, she said. I don't know what it was. Something. Mary drank more than I've ever seen. And you didn't love. launch into one of your tirades against the Tories. Maybe you two are mellowing or something. Maybe, said Dave, he was heading upstairs. Maybe called Morley, we could see them more often. But Dave didn't answer. He was already out of sight, sitting on the edge of the bed,

staring at the wall. Thank you. That was the story we call The Bear Truth. That was recorded way back in 1999. There's a part in that story that I love so much. That story was from the very, very early days of the vinyl cafe. And when I listened to it today, I can hear Stuart honing his craft. I can hear him starting to understand what it's like to perform, starting to understand an audience. Listen to this part.

Mary was moving so fast she didn't even notice what it felt like to be nude in the kitchen. Now, Bert and Mary have a galley kitchen. It's small and contained and cut off from the rest of the house one way in, one way out. Hold on. Stewart was so good at that. He could feel the audience and where they were at. He knew when to wait and when to catch up. And if an audience got too far ahead of him, he'd jump in and say something like,

Now don't you be getting ahead of me now. Or, I urge you to do as the Buddhist do and stay in the present moment. Or he'd do something like this. Here's another example. In this one, he reacted in real time to a reaction from the audience. And while Bert fumbled with the engine, it was Kenny who realized they weren't going to make it in time. Kenny, who scooped his five-pound champion bass out of the wet well. Oh, no.

Oh, yes. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it has to be. I love that. Stuart was so quick on his feet. You know, he was actually faster on his feet on stage than he was off stage. That's a funny thing about Stuart. He was different on stage than he was off stage. Because off stage, he was thoughtful.

and gentle and kind and generous, and he was shy, really shy. He was an observer in real life, not a performer. He was the guy in the background with a notebook and a pencil, not the handbone. He was never the life of the party. He didn't even like parties, or not really. And you know, for years, when I thought about this, I thought he wasn't himself on stage. But lately I've been thinking that in a way he was actually more himself on stage. On stage, in front of thousands of people, he was somehow more comfortable than he was backstage. I used to love seeing people come backstage to meet Stewart after the show. They were always a little deflated. I think they sort have expected Stewart to be the person off stage that he was on stage, the life of the party.

But instead, they met the guy standing in the shadows, taking notes in his notebook, watching everyone else be the life of the party, so that he could write about it later. But what's interesting is that quick, witted Stewart, that don't get ahead of me, Stuart, that one, the onstage Stewart, that's the Stuart he was with his closest friends. That's who he was with me, with Meg Masters, with Greg DeClute, with Louise Curtis, with John Sheard. And what I've realized, after all these years, is that Stuart was, in a weird way, his most authentic self on stage. And that, I think, is the sign of a true performer. someone who comes alive in front of an audience, someone who can be the essence of themselves

on stage. And that was Stuart. If you ever got a chance to see him perform, you know exactly what I'm talking about. All right, we're going to take a short break now. But we'll be back in a couple of minutes with another story. So stick around. A few summers ago, we were invited up to the Laurentians to visit a friend. She has a cottage up there, but there wasn't a lot of space, and Eloise was still a baby. So we booked a place through Airbnb nearby. It was a beautiful old chalet, tucked into the forest, all warm wood and big windows, with pine trees swaying outside and a wraparound deck that caught the afternoon sun.

We'd spend the mornings with our friends, swimming, playing, having fun. And then, when it was nap time, we'd head back to our Airbnb stay to put Eloise down in a quiet, cool bedroom. She'd snooze while I prepped dinner or caught up on emails. In the afternoons, we'd hit the local market.

That's one of my favorite things about staying in an Airbnb house, having a kitchen. We picked up Quebec strawberries, a crusty loaf of bread, and some local cheese. And because we had the space, we hosted our friends for dinner one night.

too. In the evenings, after Eloise was asleep for the night, we'd sit out by the fire or curl up inside and watch a movie. That's exactly how I like to travel, less like a tourist and more like a local. It's the kind of trip that stays with you, and it's the kind I've only ever had with Airbnb. So if you're planning a summer getaway, check out Airbnb's guest favorites, the most loved homes reviewed by other guests. It's the easiest way to find a place that feels just right for your next trip. Thank you for your patience. Your call is important.

Can't take being on hold anymore? FIS is 100% online, so you can make the switch in minutes. Mobile plans start at $15 a month. Certain conditions apply. Details at FIS.ca. Welcome back. Time for our second story now.

This is Stuart McLean with the Yoga Retreat. So Dave's daughter, Stephanie, that's the best friend. And her name is Becky. And Becky broke up with her boyfriend at the end of the summer. Still a mess at Thanksgiving, still crying. Stephanie said, okay, okay, we're going away. You and I, one week. Becky said, where are we going?

Stephanie said, I haven't decided yet. When she decided, she decided on a yoga retreat. Becky cheered up. Then Becky and her boyfriend made up. Becky called said, I'm sorry. He doesn't want me going anywhere without him. That's what Stephanie said. Stephanie said, but that's why you broke up.

Becky said, sorry. Stephanie called the yoga retreat, and she explained all about Becky and her stupid boyfriend. She was hoping for a refund. Man on the phone said, they must often change those who would be constant in happiness and wisdom. Stephanie said, what? Man on the phone said,

Sorry, no refunds. So Stephanie called her mother. Morley said, sweetie, I'd love to go with you. But we opened a new production that week, and I can't. I think you should take your father. Stephanie said, are you into your mind? Morley said he's right here. Let me put him on the line.

The retreat was in the country. Down a tree-line driveway to an old Catholic monastery, up on a hill overlooking a lake. They went to the main desk and registered. The lady who was sitting at the desk smiled up at them. The lady said, well, you're here for the cleanse. Dave said, for the what? The lady said, Bodhi Dharma will search your bags now.

Bodhi Dharma opened Dave's suitcase and removed a pack of beef jerky and a bag of gummy worms. There was a tour. A woman with flared pants, a cotton wrap, and a headband showed them around. She left them at the rejuvenation desk. You can choose three treatments each, she said. It's part of the package. Well, Stephanie chose pamper yourself.

A Swedish massage, a mineral mud bath, and a sea salt pedicure. Dave looked the menu up and down while she was choosing and visibly relaxed. It just wasn't as strict as he thought it was going to be. Dave chose happy hour. Three honey mint refresh colonic cocktails. What are you thinking? said Stephanie. Well, I'm thinking, said Dave. When did I ever stop after just one?

There were already two women in the hall when Dave arrived at his first class, took a mat off the wall, unfurled it, and sat down while the room filled up around him. For the longest time, he was the only man in the room. And then another guy came in. He was wearing knee-length yoga pants and a form-fitting tank top. He had a red bandana around his shoulder-length hair, yoga beads around his wrist, and a tattoo of a lotus flower on his ankle. Dave was wearing a plaid shirt, Bermuda shorts, and lime green ankle socks.

The guy snapped his mat open in the middle of the room like a flag. And then he bent forward at the waist as if he was going to touch his toes, except he didn't touch his toes. He went way beyond his toes. He went over and right up into a handstand. Then he started doing push-ups. Handstand push-ups. He did tan.

And then he unwound slowly until he was standing again with his palms pressed together in front of his chest. Looked like he was praying. But he wasn't praying. He was looking around the room to see if anyone was looking at him. After class, handstand guy came over to Dave and put his arm around his shoulder and said, Stick with it, bro. Poses don't begin until your mind forgives. And then he said, Namaste, and he walked away.

Dave's first treatment was scheduled for just before dinner. Cocktail hour, he chirped to Stephanie. And then he skipped out of their bedroom. It didn't look so chirpy when he came back. Came back, all pale and sweaty, his clothes disheveled. How was it, said Stephanie. Well, a little different than I expected today. Now he said, whoops, excuse me.

He ran for the washer. Next morning, class began with the sun salutation. Dave peered around the room. Everyone else had landed the first posture with their palms flat on the floor. His palms were swinging around his knees. He felt stiff. He felt clumsy and awkward.

Surely he thought there was someone worse than him in the room. and so he looked around he caught the eye a handstand guy handstand guy winked at him threw his ankles keep at it

bro said handstand guy when class was over pose doesn't begin until you want to leave it another classroom another class and Dave was lying on his back there was music playing softly

and there was a teacher at the front of the classroom and teacher was saying bring your right knee to your chest now hug your knee with your arm bring your head to your knee and exhale and right then right then in the deep silence after teacher Some of you are familiar with this pose.

Right then in the deep silence after teachers had exhale, there was an explosion. Or more accurately, a series of rapid little explosions. And teacher said, well, now we all know why they call it the wind-releasing pose. Bro, said handstand guy on the way out. That's not what they mean when they say exhale. The Lotus position is not the most dramatic-looking yoga posture, not by a long shot. At first glance, you would think anyone could do Lotus. The Buddha did it, after all.

So did Gandhi. and neither of them said Dave to Stephanie at dinner that night strike me as the most athletic looking dudes poses said to be the path to enlightenment and all you have to do said Dave is cross your legs and sit there like a lotus flower open to the light best to all handstand guy had bad knees handstand guy couldn't do lotus

daha said Stephanie well it's not about that said Dave. Seriously, it's not about that. It's not a competition. The problem is that as simple as it looks, the lotus is virtually impossible for a beginner. Only a fool would try

to pry themselves into a lotus without years of preparation. But fools do rush in. Dave woke early and slipped out of bed. Let himself into the studio at the far end. to the building. As the sun came up, he stood by the window and studied the chart of yoga

postures, limbered up for a while. And then he sat down and he placed his right foot on his left thigh. Then he grabbed his left foot and tried to muscle it up onto his right thigh. There was no way. But there had to be a way. And so he leaned both elbows and all the weight of his upper body on his knee. And there was a sudden snap and a and then a flash of pain deep in his body like a flash of lightning. It was there and then it was gone. That was odd, thought Dave. And then he looked down at his legs.

His right foot was on his left thigh. His left foot was on his right. He was in Lotus. A profound sense of well-being washed over him a sense of oneness with the world until he realized his left foot was asleep and he couldn't move his legs

his legs were knotted together and the more he tried to free them the tighter they got he wasn't in full lotus he was in sheep shank it took him in it took him in hour to drag himself down the corridor back to the bedroom.

Used his hands to pull himself along on his bottom. Anywhere else in the world, he would have been a disturbing sight. Here everyone just nodded as he passed. Namaste, namaste, namaste, namaste, namaste. It was exhausting work. Halfway back to his room, he stopped and propped himself up against the wall. When he woke up, there was an embroidered hat sitting on the floor next to him full of spare change. It took Stephanie 40 minutes

and a container full of Vaseline to untangle her father. When she finished, his legs were way too wobbly to walk, although he could put them behind his ears. Look what I can do, he said. And that's what he was doing. He was sitting on the bed with his feet behind his head when there was a knock on the door. It was Bodhi Dharma. Cocktail hour. That night Dave dreamed he was being chased through a dark kingdom. There were baboons and eels and

in the distance a volcano that rumbled and groaned and kept erupting over and over and over again. next morning he dragged himself out of bed and staggered off to class teacher said if you haven't done headstand you should do tripod instead well he had been defeated one too many times he was not going to be tripod guy in handstand guy's room Dave said I've done headstands not recently but it wasn't hard was it teacher said place your head on the floor in front of your knees now raise your legs slowly and gently place your knees on your elbows well that wasn't the way he remembered it wasn't

the way he remembered it was to go up quickly and with commitment get to the top you had to commit everyone else was lined up in front of the wall their knees on their arms in a sort of tripod squatty way finally thought Dave finally there was something he could do better than everyone else so while everyone else balanced there on their arms Dave counted to himself

one for the money two for the show and on three to get ready he put his forehead on the ground and he kicked his feet up with all the force he could muster he hits so hard as heels broke through the drywall there was an

explosion of dust. And everybody stopped what they were doing and stared at Dave, who managed to hold the pose for a moment or two. But after a moment or two, his arms started to shake. And then they gave out. But he didn't fall because he was being held in place by his planted heels. He was hanging on the wall like an upside down picture. Trying to project a look of yogic calm, he crossed his arms. And there was a beat of yogic silence until everyone heard the sound of a far-away rumbled, beginning in his upside-down tummy. Dave checked out that afternoon. Two days early. They bumped in a handstand guy in the lobby. Leaving early, he said.

Well, bro, said Dave. And he set his suitcase down, and he walked around the desk and he put his arm around handstand guy. And he looked at him and he said, everybody knows the poses always end when the plaster breaks. They didn't charge.

charge them for the damage to the studio walls. But they weren't pleased. In light of the circumstances, said the lady who checked them out, you will understand if we don't give you the third of your complimentary cocktails. Dave nodded. Namaste, he said. Namaste. That was the yoga retreat. We recorded that story at the Evergreen Theater in Powell River, British Columbia, back in 2013. Thank you for your patience. Your call is important. Can't take being on hold anymore?

FIS is 100% online, so you can make the switch in minutes. Mobile plans start at $15 a month. Certain conditions apply. Details at FIS.ca. All right, that's it for today, but we'll be back here next week with two more Dave and Morley stories, like this one. Of course, once the idea that they might have mice was introduced, Dave stopped sleeping. And the slow decline into sleep-deprived craziness began. Morley hadn't actually seen any mice, but there was plenty of evidence.

Once you started looking, it was everywhere. Dave tried to affect a light-hearted carelessness. Maybe those aren't mice, he said, when she led him into the kitchen and pointed at the counter. Maybe we have an infestation of poppy seed bagels. That's next week on the podcast. I hope you'll join us. Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe is part of the apostrophe podcast network. The recording engineer is Pass Me That Tea Towel, Greg DeCleut. Theme music is by Danny Michelle,

and the show is produced by Louise Curtis, Greg DeCloat, and me, Jess Milton. Let's meet again next week. Until then, so long for now. Thank you for your patience. Your call is important. Can't take being on hold anymore? FIS is 100% online, so you can make the switch in minutes. Mobile plans start at $15 a month.

Certain conditions apply. Details at fizz.ca.