This is sad news indeed. If you've never actually been to Toronto and walked along Yonge street and seen this humungous neon sign 3 stories high outshining anything for blocks and walked in to check it out and found the most wonderful soul-restoring mecca of music from everywhere and by everyone and had to elbow your way through crowds of people from everywhere looking for all this music and listened to the tunes playing from everywhere in the world and the people talking and walked up creaky old wooden stairs to the section away in the back where you can find some of the most truly amazing music available in the world and some of the most outrageous comedy and folk and blues and world and Dean Martin albums and if you think that this is just another business being shut down by droid driven high profit consumerism and who gives a rat's patoot and so what and isn't everyone buying online, than I think that it's even sadder that you've never had an epiphenous experience like this and when Sam the Record Man closes it's doors only to be replaced by some flashy neurotic high tech wonderpalace shareprofit driven selling grot made by underpaid Asian children, well, you never will. Sigh. There. I feel better. No, wait. I don't. Darn them. Darn them, darn them, darn them. Them and all their...oooooh....tasselled Italian loafers and digital cel phones and remote control microwave ovens. I feel a banjo attack coming on. AAAAAAAAAAAArgh. There. I'm done. Night, night. Owl.