Bound for Home

My show in Isle Perrot has fallen through. Just one more slap at the Tour by fate. I've done hundreds of house concerts over quite a few years, and I don't think I've ever had a cancellation of any sort until this year. Suddenly there has been a rash of them. Is it new presenters getting cold feet? I don't know. But I do know that these late cancels leave the Tour without revenues on such occasions. Not only am I left without income, but I am burdened with the extra expenses of travel, meals and accommodation. While I've always done house concerts on a "no risk" basis to the host, I'm thinking that I may need to start requesting a small deposit that I can use as "cancellation insurance." Would that be out of line? On the current Tour, from coast to coast, I've lost a full week of show time over these non-events. That's roughly $2500 in expenses, plus complete loss of any projected income for these shows.

Since I'm here in the west end of Montreal, I decide to drop into Smoke Meat Pete's. You may remember that gear was left here some two years ago on the Century Tour. Numerous phone calls could not seem to sort it out or recover my gear. As a matter of fact it was rental gear, and had I reported it lost or stolen it would of been covered under my insurance policy. Instead, I ended up paying for the gear out of pocket, and was pretty unhappy about it! Last year I dropped in and picked up a box that was later found to be filled with light fixtures. Then I came back to do a show, and the staff knew nothing about my missing gear... But today... all is different! Pete greets me warmly as I arrive! "I've got your gear," says he. And sure enough- there it is! All boxed up and pretty! I have lunch and leave with everything happy again in Doc land. Funny things happen in this world. Sometimes things end better than you would of thought.

I've decided to keep driving for Toronto. The weather is warmer, clearer. Snow and rain are behind me. I'm driving into the falling sun of shorter days. I'm headed for home. I've been on this blacktop for nearly four months now. I've got three new mic stands and a smoked meat sandwich for my efforts today. Tonight, my own bed. There's cops all over this big highway, so I set my speed low, drink coffee, and count down these final road miles.

It's a nice morning to be on the road. Tim's as usual for an extra large coffee, last night's cash into the gas tank, and I'm on my way. Woodstock is a pretty nice looking town. Close to the international border, close to Fredericton. Not too sleepy, but still has that small town feel. Big old trees, big old frame houses. I like these rambling frame structures. You see them all across the Maritime region, and also into Maine, Vermont, upstate New York.

Back on the TransCanada Highway. Northbound now, taking my time to save gas. I've got the cruise on and I'm moving into the New Brunswick highlands. Lots of trees and rocks here. It's mills and mining and big, open spaces. There's been less snow here, but sections of road are still covered, and the sky is now hinting at another drop. I'm warm. The motor is humming quietly. Life could be better, but it's not bad. I'm wondering how Big Dave is doing out in Winnipeg. I'm still thinking about how bad the returns were on Atlantic Canada this year. I'm thinking about next year's National Steel Tour with Morgan Davis. I'm pretty much committed to being out here, but I don't know if this Tour can support two artists with the economy being as it is. I've got to raise revenues and cut expenses if this is to work...

The phone rings. It's Big Dave! We have a chat and catch up on our travels and concerns. Where am I? Hey, I'm crossing into Quebec now! Does that mean I pay more, or less for gas? I pass by the big, Irving gas station at the border. Why? I don't know. I just can't be bothered to stop. I want to make Quebec City before dark. Time change. That should help. I like going west...

Snow behind me now, I roll into eastern Quebec. Lumpy little Laurentian wannabe hills, the St. Laurence river on my right. Narrow, little farm fields left over from the original land grants here. Everybody got a piece of the river, I guess. Soon it is getting dark. The lights of Quebec City twinkle across the river. I wonder if I could still get a ferry across from Levis? I'm tired. I'm driving. I keep going to the Big Pont, across, and into the twisted streets of the Old City.

Woodstock, NB: The Fusion Cafe

Well, yes, I'm better rested. And after a classic breakfast at Jean's Diner I'm ready for action. The late autumn was going to make a serious play for winter eventually- and here we go. Winter storm warnings. Up to 25 cm expected... With an extra large Tim's on the dash- and a full tank of gas- I set out. In good weather I'd have about a three hour drive on this quality, divided highway. Today, I wouldn't be surprised if they closed the road. The trick is to get on it before that happens...

I'm on the TransCanada. Several hours into this drive there is still no sign of snow removal equipment, salting or sanding gear. In fact, I'm very much alone out on this white and wooly road. The Lincoln is NOT a great snow car. The big ass end of her will slide at even gentle acceleration. I try to keep things very, very steady. Most of this trip is at 45 or even 50 km, with occasional white-outs as the giant, semi trucks push their way by. With zero visibility, I look out the side window, at the ditch, to try and keep the car going straight. I wonder if these drivers have the slightest clue of the peril they present to other traffic in weather such as this?

My ride to Woodstock, NB is about five and a half hours. I'm happy to arrive at the Fusion Cafe, park, and get off this crazy road. I'm also happy that they've got a new PA. I won't have to carry mine in through the ice and snow. As it turns out, there is a missing power cable, but I happen to have one. That's one reason I travel with this little back-up system- I never get left without gear I need to make a show happen. I could even pull the car battery and run the whole thing through the DC/AC power converter. If the room lost power I'd be up and running in 20 minutes. Brownie McGhee taught me how to use a soldering gun many, many years ago. I was permanently impressed with how he was prepared and equipped to deal with nearly any problem that might come up. I think about him once in a while. He was a kind and beautiful man. A self-made man, like so many of the old school artists. I still meet members of his family every once in a while... Anyway, I do think of him whenever I reach for that spare power cable, adaptor, mic clip, or the soldering gun.

Meanwhile, the snow seems to have subsided a little, but the roads remain clogged outdoors. I'm set up in short order. After soup and sandwich I do a little internet work and wait. The place seems pretty quiet for the dinner hour. Folks from out in the country have called in to cancel reservations. I'm prepared for the slow night that follows. Two informal sets for about a dozen people. Everyone is very friendly. A few fans from previous visits, a few new friends. By the time I'm packed up and taken to my quarters I'm ready for sleep. Enough snow for one day!

Moncton Revisited

Today I'm back to Moncton- to Plan B- although this is officially "down time." Tracy and her very cool staff have offered me the use of the band apartment for a couple of days, so I'm moving in with my new sound recording gear. I'm going to try and do some writing upstairs, and in between I'll use the internet in the Club, hang out, catch some music, just relax. I haven't had much secure down time on this Tour. I've been on the road for nearly four months now, and I've got to admit that I'm pretty tired. My voice sounds like a train has run over it...

My quarters are next door and overhead of Amazing Ink, but I resist the opportunity to spend a couple of days in the chair. I actually can't afford quality ink on this tour- cars and guitars, and daily expenses seem to be eating all the money. I've got a couple of mics set up in the back room, so I get to work installing the ProTools software and seeing what I can do...

Apparently not much on my three year old MacBook. I'm encouraged to use fewer processing tools and less tracks and to increase memory allocation... But I've only got two mics up, and no effects at all. Eventually the machine records a couple minutes of music before shutting down. I discover I can't play this back through my computer- rather I must listen to it through headphones out of the M-Audio box. That would be fine if I had headphones.

Downstairs in the bar I play a short, late afternoon set. Later I'll dine at Deluxe Fish and Chips before coming back to hear the three evening shows.

On the Road: Local Roots- Pictou County, NS

Halifax Revisited: Long and McQuade, Company House

It's a beautiful day rolling out of Hubbards, Nova Scotia. I've had a good sleep, I've been fed a wonderful breakfast, I've spent a couple of hours in my virtual office. Now I'm back on the highway, taking the slow route up the coast to Halifax. There's no hurry- I've got a 3:30 workshop to present at Long and McQuade, but it's not noon yet, and I'm very close. I pull into a Tim's and sleep in the Lincoln for a couple of hours...

I've done two workshops here in prior years, so I know the lay of the land. It would of been easier to get here without my GPS! Anyway, the Halifax Long and McQuade is a pretty interesting store- they tend to carry a little more used equipment than some of the other locations. I'm in early to set up and look around.

Two stools- one guy. It's a little odd to be doing a Longs workshop without Big Dave McLean at my side, but the event goes well. About 15 people show up and keep the questions coming. It's a very friendly store- and after three visits I know most of the staff now. I'm well looked after here, tucked back between rentals and mics.

After the workshop I do a little shopping of my own. I pick up a little M-Audio Fast Track Pro. It's an interface device which will let me record via two balanced lines and my laptop. The idea is to lay down some song sketches next week while I'm on layover. It looks like it should do everything I need it to do. It has an ultra lite version of ProTools, which should be adequate to catch some sounds from my basic mics, play them back, and share them if I wish to do so. I'm overlooking my usual rule of purchase which is "never buy anything with the word pro on the box." We'll see. No discount for this gear either.

I head out with my GPS- oh, yeah, OK, I know where this is... I'm heading a few blocks away to visit Joe Murphy's famous Saturday afternoon jam at the Mustache. Sure is a lot of traffic in Halifax on a Saturday afternoon... Seems that there is going to be a Christmas parade. People are lining the sidewalks. All the side streets are plugged with cars. I drive around this mess for a few minutes and then give up. I was hoping to go and see Joe and the gang before my own show. Instead I will go to my gig and look for a bite to eat.

The Company House is in a more depressed neighbourhood, but it seems to be up and coming. A few arty little businesses presenting themselves. This place has more of a focus on songwriters and new music, so I am quite glad to be playing here, hopefully to a younger demographic as well. Originally this was to be a split bill with somebody local, but apparently that's not happening. I'll be on my own. The place looks pretty quiet for Happy Hour- only one customer. The bar only has a couple of snack type food items. I order something because I'm hungry, and there's nothing else in sight.

My poster isn't up on the door or window. For such a popular venue, there is no traffic on this Saturday night. Three or four people at the bar. Two customers sit down half-way up front. They've come for the show. A sound tech arrives. "Didn't anyone tell you sound costs $100?" she asks me. "I can bring my own PA in from the car," I counter.

Kindly the tech sets up three mics for me, does a line check, and takes the night off. Clearly I'm not going to be the coolest show in town anyway. The owner arrives, and more or less tells me that the reason the room is empty is because Big Dave McLean and I had played The Carleton earlier in the week. I'd pitched tonight's show as a singer-songwriter event, through completely different channels, expecting to be on a bill with at least one local player in this trendy and popular Halifax alt-roots music venue. But nobody's coming in here tonight, even by accident. I don't think that the 20 people who saw the Bad Boy show at the upscale Carleton have anything to do with the numbers here tonight. I really don't know what to think. I'm sorry that the room is empty, too. It's a nice room.

I play two sets to the two people who came out to see me. Joe Murphy drops in to play the second set with me- added bonus. At the end of the night the half-dozen folks at the bar take up a little collection. We make $35, which is just enough to cover our bar bill and my taco. I was going to sleep in the Lincoln Hotel tonight, but my pal Dale has kindly offered his couch again, so off I go to the far suburbs. The toll bridge costs another buck. It's a dark night, and it has started to rain.

Great Gig at the Trellis, Hubbards, NS

I'm sorry Big Dave missed this one! Perhaps the wind is changing! A really nice night here in Hubbards, NS, with a really nice group of people. I'm well fed, I'm treated nicely by an audience with several hard-core Doc fans in it. I'm encored. I'm paid, I'm accommodated. As much as I miss Dave, it is kind of nice to get to play a whole evening of my own material, too! I'm already booked here for next year.

In Which Doc and Dave Say Good-Bye

Waking up in the Coop. The woodstove has long used up the last log. It's a crisp morning in the building, despite the sun peaking in through the many windows.

Rich, rolling fields outside. Still green. Dave joins me in the Coop. We're all packed. Our hosts are nowhere to be seen, so we head up the highway to look for one more breakfast. We've got time to burn as Dave's plane doesn't leave until later in the day, and the airport is less than two hours drive.

And now the snow has caught up to us, as well. In a real sense we've reached the end of autumn. It waited for this day, just as we knew both the snow and the day would eventually find us. Nova Scotia snow, just teasing, showing off how it may charm.

After breakfast we climb back into the higher country. We're going to tour about a little before driving to the airport.

She's a pretty one, from up here. We continue on, climbing the ridge and dropping down to visit the Bay of Fundy.

It's an area known for having some of the highest tides in the world. Upon our visit, the water is down, and the shore is abandoned. A cold wind soon chases us back into the car, and sends us on our way. We stop in Wolfville and shop at the Dollar store. We stop in Windsor and check out the Thrift shop. I buy some socks and some spare gloves. Then we're off to the airport. I'm delivering Dave in plenty of time as I've got a solo show tonight and need to allow a couple of hours to get there.

Self-portrait by Dave. Over the course of three of these Tours Dave has gone from camera shy to developing an eye for images. Dave took quite a few of the blog pictures this year- including a bunch of the "art" shots.

Halifax Intl Airport. Is Dave smiling because he is escaping the Lincoln? Nah. Although from a business point of view the Tour has had ups and downs this year, it has definitely been the great Canadian journey again. We've rode a whole lot of blacktop. We've met some really great people across nine provinces. We've enjoyed each other's company, artistry and professionalism. We're still friends. Good friends. And we've really delivered some classic shows this year. Nobody reviews this stuff anymore, but I'd like to think anybody who took in a show would agree. I don't know if or when we'll get to do another run like this together, but I think it's safe to say that it's been one of the great blues adventures for both of us.

Bye, Dave. I know we'll be talking on the phone like old ladies before the week is out. Airport security is taking pictures of the car and jotting down the licence plate number. I guess I've got to get this rig out of here. I've got a gig tonight down in Hubbards, Nova Scotia. The big Lincoln seems strangely silent and empty as I edge it back onto the highway.

Port Williams, NS- Landing in the Coop: Last Doc and Dave Show

We are most thankful to Dale and Eva for their hospitality! Inviting us to stay at their place was very kind. Now, full of coffee, Dave and I bid Dale good-bye and head north to play the last duo show of the National Steel Bad Boy Blues Tour. From a financial point of view the Maritime leg of the tour has been a disaster. Not just one or two slow shows. Taken as a region, only a single show has approached expectations. The cost of running the Tour here is simply much greater than the revenues generated. Costs are up, revenues are down. Dave didn't want to play the Maritimes, while I gambled that we could make it work better than in the past. Previous Maritime legs have been marginal, but in the black. This time all the bets have gone down. I've never put more time and resources into marketing, packaging, sales and promotion than this time around. Normally we've played the east first, and then made our real money across the rest of the country. This time the tour has gone west to east, and we're bleeding badly as we reach the end.

These km eat up the gas and coffee, but keep us going somehow. Dave and I have been delivering some amazing shows- from our perspective anyway. I think we both agree that we've performed some of the best music and some of the best shows of our lives on this last leg of the Tour. These moments kind of make it worth while although, like everyone else, we've got bills to pay and not enough money. I'm constantly amazed to have a player of Big Dave McLean's ability and stature at my side on these stages. I remember what it was like to sit next to Bukka White, Sam Chatmon, any number of other players. Dave's a mature player in his prime.

We're in to Port William early, so we drive on up the road to the Lookout ridge. Quite a view on this late fall day.

As has become our custom, Dave and I sleep in the Lincoln for a couple of hours. We're dead tired, and it kills some down time quickly.

The Coop is a very interesting, family run building, out on a farm near Port William, NS. Dave and I both like the feel of the place right away. Lots of wood. Big room with great acoustics and a woodstove. This is also pretty close to Wolfville, and some other towns we've played over the years. We're hopeful that we'll actually get a crowd out to hear us tonight! Either way, we're going to have fun on this last show. It'll be an all acoustic event- the sound is so good that we are not going to set up mics.

Our hosts, Angela and Tim, make us welcome and show us to our quarters. Dave will stay in a little guest cabin. I'll stay on in the big room after the show. It doesn't take long for us to settle in. Soon our gear is set up and there's nothing to do but wait for people and showtime!

Before you know it there's a good little crowd coming in. Pretty soon there are people at all of the tables. Some folks have come in from Halifax for the show! Wow. People who like us seem to like us a whole lot! Tonight, for the first time in six years, some people have come out to hear us from the Deep Roots Festival in Wolfville. Maybe we'll get an invite some day? We have a great last night here, out in a warm, wood heated building filled with warm souls who wish us well. Thank you so much. Dave and I really appreciate such an ending to this epic tour! It's been great. We've delivered a classic, duo, acoustic blues show.

Here's the last winner of a genuine satin, white stripe tour jacket!

Dave and I go into town after the show. We get pizza to go, bring it back, eat too much. We're too tired to talk- and we've said it all anyway. Soon Dave is off to his cabin. I put some logs into the woodstove and move a couch closer to it. The fire crackles. Rain pounds on the windows and roof. Tomorrow it's Dave to the airport, and me to continue down this highway alone.

Halifax, VIP

What's with the VIP, anyway? I mean, what's it mean? Like Very Important Place, or something? You should know that this city has been here a long time, and it's bigger than Charlottetown, cooler than Saint John, more sophisticated than Moncton... Heck, it's on the same coast as Boston and New York City! Practically a sister city! Let's play pretend today...

The cops follow us around town as we promote this evening's show. I come to look at it more as an escort. We drive up and down the Citadel driveway a couple of times to get our blues message out over the tops of the buildings below.

Taking a hint from New York City, Halifax removed the Occupy protesters in a clumsy, backhanded fashion. It's a pretty town, unless you are soaking wet in a jail cell.

We roll by the gig early to see about load in and sound check. There are no posters of us in the venue display cases outside. There are no posters of us in the venue or performance area. No marquee... A quick trip to the bathroom locates a single poster up over the urinal. The sound man arrives and informs us that our posters had been taken down "only hours ago." I wonder why anyone would want to take down all advertising prior to an event? But no one knows. I'm only told that since there have been just two advance tickets sold, that these will be "taken off the computer so we don't have to pay SOCAN." It's an upscale, downtown joint with pictures of Blue Rodeo on the wall. The sound system is actually built into the walls and ceiling- little speakers all over the place. Dave and I are set up and sound checked in less than 10 minutes. Four boom stands, 2 SM58's, 2 SM57's. Leave 'em hot, put a blanket over the board.

Clearly we can't afford to eat here, and as hospitality is not offered, we wander down the street to see what our options may be. Only a block away we find Q, a good looking, good smelling BBQ joint. We have one of the best meals of our tour at Q! Check it out. I don't know if it is actually the best BBQ north of Boston, but it might well be.

Back at the gig, we can tell that it's not going to be crowded on this Wednesday night. But there are a few folks coming in- some of my fans, some of Dave's, our pal Dale (the only Blues Society guy to come here), and the welcome face of Canadian blues icon Joe Murphy. He'll sit in with us later in the show.

We play a really good show to about 20 or 25 people. Joe Murphy gets up and does a couple of numbers with us. Later I discover that not all of this small crowd has even paid to get in. The venue didn't want to turn anyone away on such a slow night. Actually, at the end of the night the sound man tells me that after ticket sales are deducted Dave and I OWE THE CLUB $275!!! Didn't anyone tell you you had to pay for sound?

You know and I know that I've got a full Long and McQuade PA out in my car. Not only can I have it loaded in and set up in less than 20 minutes, but I can call and get anything else I need in a matter of minutes. Dave and I mix our own show, live, on hot mics. It's called dynamics. In the real world dynamics of venues and artists there's something going on here. No, the manager isn't in tonight.

It's an interesting business where presenters can feel that this is normal practise- to build and design fixed operational expenses to be directly taken from the incoming shows. Who would think that it would be anything but normal to pay a small Halifax, Nova Scotia venue's sound man over $300 for a mid-week show? Presenting shows is always a partnership of some kind, and it involves some kind of balancing of assumed risk as the partnership brings elements to the table and calculates possible returns on the risk. Anyway I go to the car and fetch the Tourbook... the small print in my agreement does read that there may be miscellaneous expenses up to $300. It DOESN'T say that this is actually a FIXED EXPENSE to pay a staff person's wages, but that's the way it is. Of course, a simple misunderstanding. How foolish of me not to expect, know, and understand that the venue sound man will get a fat guarantee out of my pocket! Hey, the venue seems to have a good reputation. Other shows have come and gone- apparently successfully.

Dave and I leave the venue with exactly $0.00 for tonight's show. Dave and I have been full time professionals for over 40 years and neither of us has ever been billed at the end of a show. It's a first for us. It's embarrassing. It's somewhat degrading. Clearly, in the scheme of things, the chef, the waitress, the beer company, the bar tender, and the sound man all deserve to be paid. But only two guys leave with absolutely nothing at the end of the evening. Much less than nothing. Sometimes you don't make what you might have hoped on a door deal- and that's the nature of the business- but we leave here tonight feeling tired and used, like low status objects. Only one guy is made to feel stupid. Yup, you got my ass. Just a country boy, bumbling like a fool in the Big Town.

Island Exit: Farewell PEI- Until Next Time

You know I love these red dirt roads!

All hands on deck! It's a warm and windy day as we watch the Island slip away. Thanks, everyone. We did have a great time here. It's nice to come away with so many new friends. As usual, I can hardly wait to return. It's the Dunk next September!