Last Date on the Poster- The Gladstone Hotel, Toronto

Gapping on my Blog! Arriving back in Toronto to a four month catch up of junk mail, garden, lawn, and various other domestic crisis created a rapid disconnect for me. I got the PA gear back to Long & McQuade Toronto on schedule. Everything worked great as usual- and fortunately I didn't need to unpack the gear very often on this Tour. I do have extra mic stands now, thanks to Smoke Meat Pete (see previous Blog entry!), so the gear closet is better equipped...

Tonight it's my official Bad Boy closer. I'm solo- which is fun- but I wish I could of shared Big Dave with more of Ontario! The Toronto Blues Society is presenting me as part of a mostly acoustic blues series at the trendy Gladstone Hotel. No cover. Free blues.

My son Alasdair comes with me to roadie my gear. I let him carry a few things in- as if I haven't been doing this every night for months already- and then I buy him the junk food dinner he craves. I'm met by Jordan, from the TBS office. I get paid up front. Nice. It's a good little stage, the sound man is friendly and professional. The TBS volunteers all know me and chat to fill the space before showtime. They've done a fine job and work hard for the blues. Stage banners are up, lighting is good, a little cd and information desk sits off to the side. TBS President Derek Andrews drops by for a while. The place is busy, but not packed. There are a few family members and a few friends, and quite a few fans I haven't met before. It's a chatty sort of crowd, as one might expect in a big, no cover food and drink room.

Two sets and a few CD sales and I'm done. It's been fun, but it's always hard to know how to promo non-ticketed, no-cover shows. Usually the weight falls to the presenter- and I think the TBS has done a really good job of advancing this event. In the end, I'm very grateful to be thought of, and included in the Toronto Blues Society program. It wasn't one of those adoring, theatre crowds- but it was fun, social, and a great way to bring this National Steel Bad Boy Blues Tour to a close. Somehow, I forgot to bring the tour camera! I think perhaps I need a spare that will ride in one of the guitar cases...

It's an unseasonably warm night on Queen St. West as I pack my gear out into the Lincoln. Still early in this town. The lights are bright, streetcars are rumbling by- bells ringing. The sidewalks are busy and noisy. People drive by, honk and wave. The roof speaker and lights are enjoying their last night out! Bright lights, big city. In ten minutes I'll be home.

What a Tour. Four straight months. I'm glad it's over. I wish it would go on forever. I dread the next one. I can't wait to leave. Next I'll be unpacking, doing the paperwork. A couple more entries to wrap this Tour.

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!

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.

Red Dirt Day: Down at the Dunk and a Run on the Confederation Trail

Breakfast with Hal at the Dunk. What a beautiful building, and what a wonderful host. There are few places or people I enjoy visiting as much. It's been a real honour to be a part of this over the past few years. Really, stops like this make it possible to keep going.

Here's the blacktop in front of the Dunk. I sit on the centre line to take some pics! The red dirt roads are not far away. It's a beautiful day, so I decide to go for a run. When I get back I can relax in Dunk Hall or in the wood heated guest cabin. The blog can wait. I'm going to run the red dirt!

The Confederation Trail runs the length of the Island on the old railway tracks. It has little branches and loop trails most of the way. I elect to run along the forest trail by the Dunk River. After the wooded loop, I get up onto the nice, level Confederation Trail mainline and run easy for another 10 km or so. I stop in the ditches a couple of times to plunder some old power insulators and to watch the beavers at work.

I was wearing red today, but I didn't meet anybody with guns.

Andy's Dummies, Longs, and the Dunk

Blasting out of Moncton, NB, at a fairly slow rate this morning. After breakfast the highway opens up under us. We gas up. The weather has improved, and the money we each made last night is all but spent and forgotten.

Bound for the Confederation Bridge, which will carry us to our dates on Prince Edward Island, we see some old signs on barns and sheds. "Andy's Dummies." These look really old and weathered, and I wondered if they were left over from some circus act long, long ago. Yet here and there are signs which appear to be a little newer. Handmade signs. "Eight miles to Andy's Dummies." "Five miles to Andy's Dummies." Some of these are pretty much hidden in the bushes on the roadside. Spotting them becomes a game for us... But then... What! There it is! Turn Here For Andy's Dummies." I hit the brakes and the Lincoln skids to a halt in a cloud of dust and oil smoke. "Should we?" "Well, yeah!!"

We make the turn onto a little sideroad. It's not far to a narrow, pothole filled drive which disappears into the bush... Should we? Well, yeah!

Hundreds of handmade signs adorn the trees on either side of the track.

At the end of the drive we see a small house, a shed, and an old school bus. We are met by a jolly gent with a white beard. Do we want to see the Dummies? Well, yes! If we made it up the drive we are in for the whole tour. "Step this way to the Museum," says our guide, leading us not to the shed or the house- but to the bus.

We clamber aboard and an amazing, unique show of folk art and oral history unfolds before us. This is indeed, Andy. And these are His Dummies. Andy's Dummies. Thirty-five years in the making. A rare piece of Canadiana. The National Gallery should buy this outright to save and preserve it.

Andy and a Dummie.

It would take hours to read all of the little buttons and signs!

Turtle born with a Baby's Arm.

One of the highlights of over 20,000 km of blue highways. Go visit Andy. Tell him Doc and Dave sent you!

One of the wonders of the modern world, the Confederation Bridge links Prince Edward Island to the mainland.

Long and McQuades awaits us. As a matter of fact, they DID await us. They expected us at 1:PM and our schedule said 3:30. Usually I call ahead, but today we were distracted by Andy's Dummies and didn't. Some 30 people showed up for the 1:PM workshop. We are truly sorry. Out of all these shows and workshops across Canada this is the ONLY one that has messed up. We do a workshop at 3:30 anyway, but only about a dozen people are here for it.

Workshop done, we are off to Breadalbane, to The Dunk. It's always a real pleasure to visit here. Pre-show we go to a nearby house warming party for dinner...

The show at the Dunk is really good. The place is full of new and old friends, and Dave and I give what is probably the best show of the Tour. We are aware that the end is coming up in just a few more shows, and we are taking it in ourselves. I don't review our own shows in the Blog, but from a personal point of view this is the best that we've done. Certainly one of the very best of some 300 shows together. It's been a real honour to work with Big Dave McLean. He's at the top of his game after a lifetime of writing and performing. We encore. We raffle a jacket. We're good and we recognize and enjoy the moment.

Jacket winner!!!
Later, these folks take us back into Charlottetown to hear a local band, Bad Habits. It's a very kind gesture. Usually Dave and I are too tired to do anything after our own shows. But these folks promise to drive us into town and get us back again as well. It is a wonderful, relaxing night for us. We return tired, but happy. We have a piece of home made pie, put the woodstove on, and lounge for a few minutes longer in its glow.