I once ran into Stan outside a Mac’s Milk in Ottawa. I said hi and asked him what he was doing in town; he said he was taping a TV show. I told him I was a friend of his manager at that time. He said, “oh,” with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. Later that night—I was driving taxi—I saw this friend standing on the street, so I stopped and talked to him. I knew there had been problems lately between him and Stan. I asked how their meeting had gone, and he put the best possible spin on it: “He didn't hit me.” Their business relationship ceased shortly thereafter.