That would be Stephen King.
For readers of this blog, you might think that I listen to nothing but the ever-distracting and difficult-to-spell Jian Ghomeshi. That's not true. I also listen to the ever-distracting and super-difficult-to-spell George Stroumboulopoulos (I'm memorizing that one for Pub Trivia night).
But yesterday, my friend Jian had Mr. Scary King on Q. To my surprise, King was fun, thoughtful, humble and interesting. The sort of guy I'd probably want to invite over for dinner, or to my Oscar Night Party(c). I suppose he can afford to all those things, because he's richer than God, but I found his words reassuring. Which is not what you usually associate with Stephen King.
In fact, I listened in the car, sat in the car after I parked it, still listening, ran inside so I didn't miss anything, and then stood by my radio to catch the end of it. And now I'm blogging about it.
Thank you, Mr. King. I read your short stories when I was in grade 11 and working at Fable Cottage in Victoria, where when evening fell and the tourists were all gone, your stories scared the shit out of me. For the first time in 30 years, I might pick up another one of your books.