Patriotic Beer

           

            Although I knew that Friday was Canada Day, I’d forgotten that all the banks would be closed. In the early afternoon though, I went out to take out part of my rent from the bank machine and figured I’d be able to take the rest from another ATM later. It started raining on the way there and was really coming down on the return trip, but I only got a little damp.

            I was hoping it would rain more than it did, because I wanted to get some writing done, but the puddles dried up and I felt obligated to get some exercise. There seemed to be a lot of traffic downtown for a holiday, but I guess that’s where the celebrations were concentrated.

            For some reason, no matter how much traffic there is on St Clair, there is always a space for me to move into the left lane and to turn on Inglewood. I wonder if it’s a coincidence or if it’s a matter of how the traffic lights just west of there are timed.

            I went to McRae and Bayview, then rode along McRae, which snakes in various curves of north and east until it gets to Laird, just south of Eglinton.

            On my way home, Yonge and Dundas was packed with people.

            Near Queen and John, a smartly dressed woman in a fedora was shouting to herself without anger in the middle of the street.

            I stopped at the Bank of Montreal between Spadina and Bathurst to get the rest of the rent. For some reason though only some of the buttons on the touch screen machine would work, so I used the machine next to it. I discovered though that I’d surpassed the daily limit of the amount I could remove from any bank machine. I might have known about the limit but had forgotten since it had been so long since I’d tried.

            My upstairs neighbour knocked on my door that night. He said he’d just gotten back from his cousin’s wedding in Windsor. He gave me a jug of milk from the States and six cans of Budweiser all dolled up special for the fourth of July with slogans like E Pluribus Unum; land of the free; home of the brave and “liberty and justice for all” (tell that one to Donald Trump!)

Hawaiian Eye

           

            On Thursday June 30^th, I did my laundry in the bathtub and hung it out back. I noticed two levels of neighbours in the building next door had had the same idea.

            That night I worked my second and final night of posing up the street at Artists 25. As I arrived, cars were beeping their horns on Dundas in the Portuguese neighbourhood in celebration of some kind of sports victory, I assume.

A couple of young women in their teens came to draw there for the first time. They were extremely chatty with one another while I was posing until Alex arrived and determined that the position from which he’d been painting me the week before was exactly between them. That shut them up until one of them later on decided to take a break and went over to sit and yak with her friend.

That night I watched an episode of Hawaiian Eye that had an interesting plot twist. A couple became the sponsors of a teenage girl in a beauty pageant but it was only for the purpose of blackmailing one of the judges by making it look like he was seducing the girl. They drugged the girl at his home and then took a photo of him leaning over her and trying to revive her. The photographer ran away, but the judge was still trying to revive the girl. Then his wife came home. She had been asking for a divorce, which he had refused to give her. She saw this as a perfect opportunity, so she took a loaded gun from a drawer and killed him. Then she put the gun in the girl’s hand and left. The writers didn’t really handle the plot very well after that point. The man’s wife had placed the gun in the girl’s hand, but barrel first, so the cops knew she hadn’t shot him.

Hail Mary!

            On the Wednesday evening of June 29^th, I headed out for the last Fat Albert’s open stage until September 7^th, but probably my last one until the spring of 2017. There was still construction from Bathurst going east along College and so I tried to bypass it by going the wrong direction up a one-way street before Bathurst and then taking the next right, which was a long distance up the street. This turned out to be a long way around, so I would have been better off just walking until I was past the construction.

After locking my bike, I was going up the walkway of the Steelworkers Hall and saw Andrea Hatala arriving as well. She was wearing a visor that was tilted very low over her face. I opened the right door for her but she almost bumped into the left door. I inquired if she could see with the cap on but she answered that she couldn’t see that well anyway. I asked, “You’re not legally blind though are you?” She surprised me by informing me that she actually is legally blind. I have known her for twenty years and I didn’t know that.

I was not very late, but since this was the closing party and since there would be food, there was already a longer list than usual. The earliest number I could take was nine, but it would be one song each for everyone but the feature this time anyway.

Mary came in and asked for volunteers to help bring in food from the trunk of the taxi that was waiting in front, so I went out and hauled in a cartful.

Martin Owen sat beside me and voiced again his frustrations with psychiatry. I said, “As long as you’re a nomad you can’t be mad!”

Later he introduced me to his mother. She seems like a pleasant little old woman, though perhaps a little sad.

John Reid gave me his email address so I could send him the pictures I took of him the week before, but when I tried a few weeks later, the email failed. I’ll have to catch him next year.

When it came time to start, Mary Milne walked to the front to announce the first performer, but she had neglected to check the list beforehand, so she had to ask someone to look. Someone called back, “Charles!” and even though Charles Winder has been the first one on stage almost every Wednesday night for years, she still had to ask, “Charles who?” Once that was confirmed, she made a comment about that being one of the reasons this was her last night of hosting.

Charles Winder did a seven minute set of flamenco guitar, but as usual, didn’t announce the name of the piece he played.

Next up was Dawn, who sang “It Isn’t Nice” by Malvina Reynolds – “It isn’t nice to block a doorway, it isn’t nice to go to jail, there are nicer ways to do it but the nice ways always fail … We have tried negotiations and the three man picket line, but Mr Charlie didn’t see us and he might as well be blind, now our new ways aren’t nice when we deal with men of ice, but if that’s freedom’s price, we don’t mind, How about those years of lynchings and the shot in Evers’ back, did you say it wasn’t proper … You were quiet just like mice …”

Then we heard from Naomi, reading her poetry, with John Reid on guitar and Michael Harrington on drums. John played an original instrumental piece while Naomi read – “Mellow levels that whisper … dancing the soliloquy … vision of tranquility … the spider unravels her web … wants to relinquish and capture song … inoculates the symphony … transposed like a scented reverie … intoxication, you follow me under your veil …”

After Naomi was Martin Owen, who performed a cover of John Lennon and Paul McCartney’s “All My Loving”. The song was recognizable because of the lyrics and some semblance of the melody, he seems to have come up with his own chords and music for the song, and sings it like a kind of a chant. He certainly has a unique approach to covering a song.

Jean Claude Sendez sang and played Baker Knight’s “The Wonder of You”.

Glen put another row of chairs in front of the room, but for some reason left a space, three chairs wide, directly in front of me. 

Following Jean Claude was Brian Rosen, who surprised my by singing in French, but unlike when Jean Claude sings in French and I can understand a third of what he’s singing, in Brian’s case I couldn’t understand almost any of it. At the end of the night I asked him about it. What he’d sung was a Cajun tune, but I was surprised again when he told me that he speaks French and learned it while living in France. He told me he heard the song from the Cajun band Swamperella. I was able to find out the lyrics and title later. It’s called “Tit Galop Pour Mamou” (Little Dance To Mamou) and it was written by Dewey Balfa, and the melody would be familiar to those who’ve heard Joe South’s “Games People Play”, though the Cajun song was written before the South composition. – “’Tit gallop pour mamou, j’ai vendu mon ‘tit mullet pour quinze sous, j’ai acheté du candi rouge pour les ‘tits, du sucre et du café pour les veux. ’Tit gallop, ’tit gallop pour mamou, j’ai vendu mon ‘tit wagon pour quinze sous, j’ai acheté du candi rouge pour les ‘tits, une yard de ruban pour la vielle.” Here’s my quick rhyming translation – “A little dance took me to Mamou, for fifteen cents I sold my little mule, I bought some red candy for the kids, coffee for my friends and sugar too. A little dance took me to Mamou, for fifteen cents I sold my small barouche, I bought some red candy for the kids, and some ribbon for their mama too.” When Brian performed it, Glen Gary on the piano and Tom Hamilton on the violin helped him out. The fiddle certainly gave the piece some Cajun authenticity. When I spoke to Brian about it, he explained that “mamou” meant grandmother, and it really kind of sounds like a word that would be used in French as a nickname for grandmother, but from my later research I found that it’s not a French, but rather a Native American word. In the song it’s the name of a town in Louisiana.

Next came Andrea Hatala, who did one of her own compositions on the piano, as usual – “There’s a doll in a china shop, the shelf unreachable … she’ll break if she falls … Consider me untouchable … It’s cold and it’s lonely but it’s better to stay there than to open new doors … She wants to soar down, but she knows she won’t catch her fall … She’s not really lonely, she’s only alone.”

There was a middle-aged woman in the front row with two late teenagers sitting beside her. Mary pointed out to me that they were her two grandchildren and her daughter in law.

After Andrea was Randy, who did his karaoke bit with a CD player. This time he sang along to “Piece By Piece” by Kelly Clarkson and Greg Kurstin, which he said, applied to women and mothers as well as men. – “ … piece by piece he collected me … filled the holes that you burned in me …”

Then Mary went to the stage, even though it was actually my turn. I think she wanted her grandchildren to hear her poetry before they left.

She read “Creating A Monster” – “Take a simple person, look for magic in their glance, Take a simple case of like and inflate it to possession, with little chance of not being demolished by what you built … When nothing about your desired other smells bad, that’s when you know you’re in love.”

I sang my translation of Serge Gainsbourg’s “Joanna” – “ … Joanna must be from up in Zamfara, when she is dieting she just eats bananas … Joanna’s a dancehall barstool connoisseur, when she sits at the bar she takes up three or four, oh yeah but Joanna, Joanna, Joanna she sure can dance, lightly, lightly …”

Following me were Tony and Veronica Hanik, with Tom Hamilton joining them as well. Tony told us, “If Mary Milne and Doc Higgins hadn’t decided to continue Fat Albert’s in 1996, we wouldn’t be here tonight.” Then they sang Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” – “ … You say I took the name in vain, well I don’t even know the name, but if I did, well really, what’s it to ya? There’s a blaze of light in every word, it doesn’t matter which you heard, the holy or the broken hallelujah …” Veronica did high harmony and many people were singing the chorus behind me, especially Honey Novick, and it sounded quite good.

Next was Heinz Klein, doing one of his own songs with Tom Hamilton – “The sky’s falling … Think about tomorrow … There’s no one to help you, no one to pull you through … You move from bar to bar and you wait for the day when it’s gonna be okay …” Tom took a solo and really got into it.

Mark Russell sang the Radiohead song, “Creep” by Albert Hammond and Mike Hazlewood – “ … Your skin makes me cry … You’re so fucking special … But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo … I don’t belong here. I don’t care if it hurts, I want to have control, I want a perfect body … I want you to notice when I’m not around …” I should mention that Mark sang the censored version of the original song.

Mike Weidman did one of his own songs, and had Tom back him up – “She’s not pretty … Her eyes are crooked and her teeth are crossed … like a sideshow display … She’s got a job … She likes her money … Got a brand new used car … She’s just an ugly ballerina … She’s just like me … In love with a dream and she don’t stand a chance … Changes direction, but she’s always in the wrong place, Changes her eyes, but she’s always in the wrong face … She’s never been in love, so she says, but she don’t miss it, won’t do any good to befriend a magician.”

Then it was time for Jeff and Debbie Currie, the feature performers who always headline at Fat Albert’s on the last Wednesday before the summer break. Jeff plays guitar and Debbie plays bass.

Throughout their set they alternated between original material and covers.

Their first original was a Country song written and sung in a 50s style, called “Waiting For Love And Looking For Me” – “I have been lonely most of my life … I signed up a website, I hope it will help me to find my soul mate, but it’s like a lottery that I’m trying to win …”

Their first cover, sung in harmony, was Gordon Lightfoot’s “Alberta Bound” – “ … the skyline of Toronto is something you’ll get onto but they say you’ve got to live there for a while …”

Their second original was called “Fingerprints On My Heart” – “ … there’s someone still back here alone in the dark, All that’s left are your fingerprints on my heart …”

The Curries’ second cover was “Tennessee Flattop Box”, which is thematically similar to Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode”, but the lyrics are basically a life support system for the little guitar hook between verses.

Next they did another song they wrote together called “Not Enough Heaven” – “We struggle through our days and we worry through our nights about things we don’t have the answer to … Every day it’s a fight for basic human rights … There’s not enough heaven for what we’re going through …”

To sing their cover of Travis Tritt’s “Put Some Drive In Your Country”, Debbie joked that she should have worn her leather chaps – “ … I made myself a promise when I was just a kid, I’d mix southern rock and country, and that’s just what I did … Damn, I miss Duane Allman, I wish he was still around …”

Jeff and Debbie had planned on doing two more songs, but they were told they had only time for one, so they played Mary Milne’s favourite: “California Dreaming” by John and Michelle Phillips – “ … You know the preacher likes the cold, he knows I’m gonna stay …” Tom played violin and sang on this one.

The Curries put on a professional show and though their covers do not have new and interesting arrangements, they are made somewhat unique by Debbie Currie’s vocals. She has a very good, husky voice that rings like a nostalgic siren call to a long gone era. Jeff is a good guitarist and the husband and wife team harmonize well with their vocals. Their own songs are all right, but most of them don’t have the same umph that the covers they do. “Not Enough Heaven” is probably the only one of their own compositions that could, if promoted professionally, possibly move upwards on a Country and Western sales chart. They would also probably have more success with a fuller band behind them. Debbie’s bass playing is merely adequate but somehow I doubt if she would give up playing the bass in their shows.

At this point a cake and a card was brought out to honour Mary’s years of service to Fat Albert’s. She repeated, as she often does when telling the story of how she became the hostess, that she did not volunteer. She had asked who was going to host, and the organizers just said, “Why don’t you do it?” Mary was also surprised to find out from Glen that she had not actually been the mistress of ceremonies there for twenty years, as she’d thought, but rather twenty-five years.

Continuing with the open stage, first up was John Stroud, who sang a cover of Paul Simon’s “Sounds of Silence”, with a lot of people in the audience singing along on the chorus – “ … my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night and touched the sound of silence … Fools said I you do not know that silence like a cancer grows … But my words like silent raindrops fell and echoed in the wells of silence …”

Next was Elizabeth Block, who usually doesn’t use a microphone, but because there were so many people in the room, Honey Novick called out and encouraged her to use the microphone.

Elizabeth sang acapella “The Word of God” by Catherine Faber – “ … We gaze upon creation where erosion makes it known, and count the countless aeons in the banding of the stone, Odd, long vanished creatures and their tracks and shells are found where truth has left its sketches on the slate below the ground … Long ago when torture broke the remnant of his will, Galileo recanted, but the earth is moving still … By stem and root and branch we trace, by feather, fang and fur, how the living things that are descend from those that were … We are kin to beasts, no other answer can we bring, the truth has left its fingerprints on every living thing … And we who listen to the stars or walk the dusty grade or break the very atoms down to see how they are made or study cells or living things, seek truth with open hand, the profoundest act of wisdom is to try to understand …”

As usual, Bridget sang one of her own songs, with the help of Tom Hamilton – “All the things that really matter are left unsaid … they’re jumbled inside my head … We can reconcile, though it’s been a while …”

Carole Farkash and Paul Nash, instead of singing one song, sang a medley of short snippets of several songs made famous by the Everly Brothers: “Bye Bye Love”, “Love Hurts”, “Love of My Life” and “All I Have To Do Is Dream” by Felice and Boudleaux Bryant; “Crying In The Rain” by Richard Greenfield and Carole King; “When Will I Be Loved” by Phil Everly; “Till I Kissed You” by Don Everly; and “Let It Be Me” by Mann Curtis and Gilbert Bécaud.

            Mary commented that she saw the Everly Brothers three times but they played and sang like machines.

            Michael Hooper played his song with help from Bob Cohen on ukulele and Tom Daniels on bass. He introduced the song with a story about how after moving to Montreal in 1969, he lived downstairs from a gentleman named Jessie Winchester, in whose band Bob Cohen later went on tour.

            Michael sang Winchester’s “Yankee Lady” – “I lived with decent folk in the hills of old Vermont, where what you do all day depends on what you want … She rose each morning and went to work, she kept me with her pay, I was making love all night and playing guitar all day …”

            Mary introduced Glen Gary as, “The poor pitiful soul that I am deserting!”

            Glen brought up Bob Cohen, Tom Daniels, Tom Hamilton, Wayne neon on flute and Ruth Jenkins on harmonica, as he once again played “Mystery Train” by Junior Walker.

            Everyone stayed on stage for Jillian Barrisford’s song, but Bob Cohen and Wayne Neon. She brought up Elizabeth Knowlton and gave her and Ruth Jenkins each a lyric sheet so they could sing along with K.D. Lang’s “Wash Me Clean” – “Swim through my veins, drown me in your rain …” Jillian sang with a voice very similar to that of K.D. Lang.

            Bob Allen had help from the two Toms, plus Glen Gary on piano when he sang and played “North To Alaska” by Mike Phillips.

            Lillian Kim was accompanied by the two Toms on a brand new original song – “Could you take back the words that you say, and let your mind get in the way … I wish I could go back to ask you to stay …” At this point, Tom dropped his bow “ … Where are you now? Can you start a new start …” She stretched out the song to give Tom Hamilton two solos “ … lies that pull things apart …”

            Marianne Peck was about to begin her set, with help from Glen and the two Toms, when a woman announced that she’d just discovered it was John Stroud’s 95^th birthday. After the applause, Marianne sang Ian Tyson’s “Four Strong Winds”.

            Vicky, who had complemented my song “The Next State of Grace” a couple of weeks before, read her poem, “Fractile Flashbacks” – “Purple velvet jackets … burnt bra liberated … pink nipples … Moving in the wind of a new age, curved air breeze … Phantasmagorical demonstrations … Marmalade skies … Your astral projection floats above the place where you sleep … Boutique bohemian …”

            Isaac Bonk was called to the stage, but he was gone, so that meant it was Glen Hornblast’s turn. Tom Hamilton and Wayne Neon joined Glen, who stood to play for the first time that I remember.

            Glen reminisced briefly about the old days at Fat Albert’s. He said, “Mama D was there, but she wasn’t called Mama D then.”

            Glen sang a variation of a Van Morrison song in honour of Mary’s retirement – “Have we told you lately that we love you …” Tom Daniels joined in halfway through. Tom Hamilton’s mic dropped and was dangling from its chord, so he knelt forward to play his violin for the remainder of the song.

            Neil Trotter, with his guitar and harmonica and with help from Tom Hamilton, sang “Strange Boat” by Anthony Thistlewaite and Michael Scott – “We’re sailing on a strange boat, heading for a strange shore … carrying the strangest cargo that was ever hauled before. We’re sailing on a strange sea, blown by a strange wind … carrying the strangest crew that ever sinned … We’re living in a strange time, working for a strange goal … turning flesh and body into soul.”

            Jim Amar, with the two Toms, sang Robbie Robertson’s “The Weight”, while Veronica Hanik sang harmony from her seat in the audience.

            Peter James, with his guitar and the two Toms, sang “We Are The People Our Parents Warned Us About” by Jimmy Buffet – “I was supposed to have been a Jesuit priest or a naval academy grad … I couldn’t fit the part, too dumb or too smart … When they tried to draft me, I earned a college degree … I got a guitar, found a job in a bar, played acid rock till I was numb, tell me where are the acid flashbacks they all warned us would come. We are the people they couldn’t figure out, we are the people our parents warned us about. Hey, hey, Gardner McKay, take us on the leaky Tiki with you … Don’t tell me I ought to get rolfed, cause I love Cajun martinis and playing afternoon golf …”

            Wendy Chairnstrom invited Tom Hamilton to accompany her as she sang Joni Mitchell’s “A Case Of You”. She began to sing but Tom just stood there without playing. About halfway through she urged him to play, but he said that it was fine as it was. I wonder if he just couldn’t find a way a way in without other musicians playing along – “Just before our love got lost you said, ‘I am as constant as the northern star’ and I said, ‘Constantly in the darkness, where’s that at? If you want me I’ll be in the bar’. On the back of a cartoon coaster in the blue TV screen light, I drew a map of Canada, Oh Canada … I could drink a case of you, darling and still I’d be on my feet … I’m frightened by the devil and I’m drawn to those that aint afraid

Wayne Neon reunited the two Toms and Glen Gary after their long hiatus from the stage. In introducing his song, he began speaking of “caustic regret and bitter recriminations” and then he broke a string.

Glen – “Is there a guitar in the house?”

Wayne – “It would be a remarkable coincidence if there were another guitar in the house!”

Glen – “It needs to have six strings, parallel to one another!”

Jim Amar offered his guitar.

From Wayne’s song – “She had a 67 Mustang … I spent my whole life working on a single job, the company folded up when the shit hit the fan, they cancelled my pension and my medical plan … I paid my taxes, I had to get the government to get off my back … What was I thinking …”

Scott Rogers did some good picking on Scott Mayhew’s “It’s A Sin To Tell A Lie” – “ … Be sure it’s true when you say, ‘I love you’. It’s a sin to tell a lie …”

Mama D enlisted Tom Hamilton’s help on her song – “Hung up in Texas, strung out in Tennessee … Poison really got me good … The only thing I cared about is this guitar in my hand … The only place I wanna be is never comin down …”

Glen told us that everybody needed to play their songs at 78 rpm in order for us to finish in time. He mentioned the song “Start Movin”, as sung by Sal Mineo in 1957.

Ruth Jenkins came to the stage with the two Toms, and suggested they do a “mindless jam”. Glen came up, saying, “I hear my name being called!” and went to the piano. Ruth did “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards – “ … I went down to the demonstration, to get my fair share of abuse … I saw her today at the reception, in her glass was a bleeding man …”

Brian Wilcott sang an original song about the music industry – “ … You won’t be sad if you like the way she wiggles … Mrs. Giggles, she laughs … Look, there’s Giggles on the bench … It’s a rock and roll morning.”

Audrey, with Tom Daniels on bass and Wayne Neon on flute, sang Sarah McLachlan’s “In The Arms Of An Angel” – “ … Memories seep from my veins, let me be empty, oh, and weightless … Fly away from here, from this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear. You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie … The storm keeps on twisting, keep on building the lies that you make up for all that you lack …”

The final performer of this final Fat Albert’s until September was Elizabeth Knowlton. She invited the two Toms to help her on her original song, while Glen sat in the front row, recording her with his phone – “I’m too rough for you hon … I see too much … I play for keeps … Just don’t believe what you hear on the news … You don’t wanna know where I’ve been, you don’t with matches around gasoline … It’s expensive in here, but the pleasure it’s deep and you’re too cheap.”

After helping put the chairs away, I went over to Mary and gave her a big hug.

I left the building with Carole Farkash and Mary. Carole told me she like the African song I did and told me to do more. I told Carole I had a name for her duo with Paul: “Nash and Farkash”, but Mary said, “Farkash and Nash” would be better. I thought about it for a second and agreed.  I’ve heard someone that they thought Carole is a retired professor, but I don’t know in what field.

As I was riding home along Dundas, there was a panic of sirens and the other side of Bathurst was stuffed with fire trucks as a thick stream of black smoke was punching out of the side of a building just a block or so in. I went south to avoid the mess and a hundred meters later dove into a thick choking wall of sooty air. It was still there as I turned on Queen, and it was only after riding several blocks west that I was free of it.

Garlic Scapes

           

            On the Wednesday morning of June 29th, in the parking lot across from my place, a man carrying a plastic cooler box and who looked like he was waiting for a ride, blew his nose on his hand and then wiped it in several places on the brick wall of the Dollarama.

            Later, when I arrived at the food bank there were two parking enforcement vehicles parked across the street and two officers standing in the driveway talking to Joe, the manager.

            I know that they work for Toronto Police Services and that they are technically considered to be peace officers (so is the mayor), but I’d never seen them look and act so much like cops.

            Joe had called them because there was a car parked in the space where the delivery trucks back up to be unloaded, and on this particular day there were two of them that were supposed to arrive in a matter of minutes. Joe wanted the car towed, but once the officers found out that there is only a verbal agreement among tenants not to park there, they told him they couldn’t do anything about it. They told him that what they need is a letter from the landlord to tag and tow the car and there was something about him having to pay a hundred dollars but I can’t track down what that fee would be for.

            All the staff members were tense that day, especially Joe and this one other guy named Brock. He and Joe were arguing a bit over this issue and even the people that wouldn’t be unloading the trucks were upset. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. If they just moved all the garbage bins somewhere else the truck could back up beside the car and the extra distance they’d have to walk while unloading it would be about three meters. I didn’t suggest it, but that’s exactly what they did. They moved all the bins to the front of the building next door.

            The woman with the red and white Canadian flag baseball cap arrived and stepped in behind me, announcing to me, “I made it!” She said that she’d wanted to get there before 10:00. She had a big crossword book with her and told me that she’d broken her laptop when she’d gotten mad at it and smashed it on the floor.          

            Anyone that comes to the food bank regularly dreads the truck arriving while they are in line, because that would mean waiting for the line to move until after the truck has been unloaded. It was a relief to get inside and to get number 11.

On my way to unlock my bike from the tree that grows out from under the building ext door, I spoke to Marlon, who was lounging and smoking in the Muskoka chair nearby. “Busy day, eh?” I said to him. He nodded and told me about the two trucks and how much work it was going to be to unload them both, get everything inside, get it all down to the basement, then unpack and shelve the items down there. I suggested that it’s probably better to be active though and that it makes the time go faster, and he agreed. I told him that I’d worked as a mover for several years and he said that he’d done that a little bit as well, affirming that it’s very hard work. I related how I’d had to give that up several years ago because it had screwed up my back and I’d had to spend some time in physiotherapy to help push some disks back in to place.

When I came back at 12:30 one of the delivery trucks was still being unloaded. I overheard that both of them had arrived at the same time. We were informed though that, because of this, the food bank would not be opening until 13:00 this time around. I thought about going home, but figured that I’d be there for ten minutes before having to leave again, so I stayed.

I noticed that the little bush that’s growing out of the bricks beside the air conditioner at the back of the bar had one purple blue blossom.

When the sun came out, the light reflecting on the faces of some of the food bank customers waiting in the shadows would have made for some potentially interesting photographs, but I don’t always feel comfortable about pointing cameras at the people there. Maybe next time.

I walked a ways up Cowan and looked at the houses, some of which are old, interestingly designed and well maintained.

A little after 13:00 they started calling numbers.

From the top of the first set of shelves I just took another can of olive oil spray, because all the other choices that weren’t pickles were just packages of things that need other things to be complete.

In addition to Triscuits there was a bag of Dutch Gouda toasted bread chips. I don’t think that there’s any other kind of Gouda other than Dutch Gouda, since Gouda is a town in Holland. I took the bread crisps, which had a very ironic brand name: “Say Yes To No”. After the “no” there is a long list of things that aren’t involved in the making of the chips, such as fake colours, artificial flavours and GMOs. It seems like a negative approach to be so exclusive. I noticed that there is canola oil in the ingredients and so I wanted to catch the company in a lie, since I know that all canola in Canada is genetically modified. But it turns out that Just Say Yes To No is a Dutch company and they probably don’t genetically modify their canola. I’ve read though that the only gene in canola that is genetically modified is a protein and that in the making of oil all proteins are removed, so there is no genetically modified canola oil.

There were some packages of gnocchi, so I took one of those. My helper insisted that I needed tomato paste to go with it. I really didn’t, but I took a small can.

At the bottom was a choice between granola bars and jelly candies. I got three granola bars.

I didn’t take any beans or soups this time around, but I bagged a can of tuna.

There were more cereal choices this time around. In addition to Apple Jacks and Shreddies there was one of those semi-healthy mainstream toasted oats cereals and a box of gourmet granola. I decided on the Shreddies.

Across the aisle, Sue was back in her role of handing out the food from the refrigerator. She seemed a little stressed out, perhaps because of the busy day. I’d noticed her out there helping to unload the truck when I arrived. She had a bag of milk and a container of Greek blueberry yogourt for me.

I grabbed some sliced multigrain bread on my way to meet the vegetable lady at her corner near the exit. She asked, “What would you like my darling?” I took a little of everything. There was a slightly tanned around the edges bunch of celery, a fairly nice big red pepper, three plum tomatoes and a few potatoes. There was also fresh sage, rosemary and thyme. I told her that it sounded like a song. She gave me a bunch each of rosemary and thyme. There was a basket of several garden vegetables in the front, and she asked if I wanted anything from there. I noticed what looked like rhubarb and I asked if she had any more like last time. The little bit she’d given me was delicious. She looked and said she didn’t think she had any, but then realized she did. It doesn’t seem that anyone else is interested in rhubarb because she gave me everything she had, which was about three times more than last time. She commented, “Not a bad day for produce this time, eh?”

When I got home and unpacked everything, I noticed among the rhubarb what looked like twisted green onions that each looked like they’d swallowed a little bulb. I bit off a piece and it tasted oniony, but I couldn’t figure out if they were just mutated or a variety of scallion. I searched online, describing them in several ways until I finally stumbled upon a google image that matched them. It turned out that they were garlic scapes, The lady that had brought the rhubarb to the food bank from her garden must have donated the spirally buds as well.

Would You Steal This Bike?

           

            It was much cooler than lately on Tuesday, June 28th, but not unpleasant for a bike ride.

            I walked across to the north west corner of Yonge and Bloor and was waiting to get over to the east side so I could ride north, when a guy sitting on the sidewalk asked me for spare change. I shook my head and told him, “Sorry.” Then he said, “That’s a good bike!” “Thanks!” “And it looks fast too!” It’s not true, but I nodded. “Only lock it!” he warned, “You don’t want anybody to steal it!” Nobody wants this bike.” I argued. “No one is gonna try to steal this bike!”

            I went to Bayview and McRae and then headed east. The houses are older, bigger and more middle class in that neighbourhood than just a few streets south where everything is an ironic mix of the new and the falling apart. I went south on Bessborough and then east to curve north on Rumsey all the way to Eglinton. I went south on Laird and stopped to pee again at the Golden Griddle. I didn’t notice a single customer in the place. Just a guy in kitchen whites leaning on a partition and daydreaming. The way to the washroom passed the kitchen and there was a sour odour that permeated the hallway.

Songwriters Class reunion

           

            While getting ready to leave for the Tranzac on the Monday night of June 27^th, I could see big beautiful clouds dyed red by the sunset, but the colour was gone by the time I was en route.

When I arrived in the Southern Cross bar, the monthly event of “Chris Banks and Friends” was going on. This time Chris and his double bass were generating gravity for a piano player named Ryan Driver and a drummer as they performed “The End of A Love Affair” by Edward Redding. The drummer was using those soft tipped percussion mallets that look like giant q-tips, but he dropped one and switched to brushes in mid-song.

After Chris and his friends were finished with one more song, some of the open stage performers arrived.
            Robert Labell and Isaac Bonk were sitting together and discussing Bob Dylan. Isaac commented that one of the great things about Dylan was that when he wrote protest songs he never really indicated which side he was on. I’m pretty sure that’s not entirely true. Sometimes it’s subtle, but one can tell where Dylan stands on the issue about which he is singing.

There was also some discussion of Bob Dylan’s voice, and they both seemed to agree that he doesn’t have a great voice. I interjected that on Dylan’s first album he did some amazing singing and he has some of the best phrasing in the business. Robert and Isaac looked up at me briefly, but then returned to their contained conversation.

Robert told Isaac that he and his wife have an understanding that he won’t play any Bob Dylan when she’s around and she won’t play any Bob Marley when he’s in the room. He said that she couldn’t understand why someone couldn’t like reggae music. He told her that there’s a simple explanation: “It’s garbage!”

A guy I’d never seen before came up to me while I was tuning my guitar and tried to engage me in a conversation about how much fun it is to make music. I told him that I didn’t always find it enjoyable to play in front of other musicians.

Yawd Silvester was the host this time around, and he started the night off at the piano with one of his own songs – “Waiting at the top of your roller coaster, the train is set to roll with me inside … Remind me how to spell quarantine … fifty times I left you and fifty times I stayed …”

The first name on the list was Steven Lewis, but Robert said that Steven had called him to say he was “out of action”. It must have taken all his strength to telekinetically put his name on the list from several kilometres away and then he didn’t have the energy left over to travel to the Tranzac.

That meant that Robert Labell would be the first performer. 

My friend Cad arrived just as Robert was getting ready to play.

Robert started with a cover of Bruce Cockburn’s “Mama Just Wants To Barrelhouse All Night Long” – “I was up the road on easy street watching everybody stand around and cheat, Man comes up and says move along, back to the corner where you belong … I hear the city singing like a siren choir, some fool tried to set this town on fire, TV preacher cries, come on along, I feel like Fay Wray face to face with King Kong, but mama just wants to barrelhouse all night long …”

Cad asked what “barrelhouse” means. Robert suggested that it just means to have a good time. I think it relates to the kind of dancing that was done to the kind of music that was played in barrelhouses.

Robert told us that his next piece involved a lot of percussion, even though his wife tells him that he should stop hitting his guitar because “it looks really stupid”.

Robert took quite a bit of time to change the tuning before playing the instrumental composition, “Tribes”. He didn’t say who wrote it. I’ve heard Robert play this song on at least one prior occasion. As he said, it involves lots of hitting of both the body and the neck of the guitar. It’s actually a pretty impressive piece.

I was next, and began with one of my translations. I explained that the music for the song was written by a Nigerian drummer named Babatunde Obatunji, but that Serge Gainsbourg had taken the melody and turned it into a French song, which I’ve turned into an English song. I said that the geographical setting of Gainsbourg’s song didn’t make any sense because he’d set it in Louisiana, yet there were references to elephants and bananas. I decided in my English adaptation to take my lyrics back to the music’s country of origin – “Joanna is as large as an elephant, she is the biggest woman in Nigeria, oh yeah but Joanna, Joanna, Joanna, she sure can dance lightly, lightly …”

That went over well, especially with the guys at the bar, the most enthusiastic of whom was the guy that had spoken to me earlier about how great it is to play music.

I followed this with my own” Seven Shades of Blues” – “Freedom loving children, virgins to the thrust, that rips the hole in innocence, and frees the fire of lust, to temper the foundation, of a higher innocence, and raise the boundaries up above, for the diamond’s just ascent …”

After me came Isaac Bonk, beginning with one of his Dylanesque songs – “I saw one day the rook and the pawn, it’s for them I’ll sing on … As we stormed the shores of old Galilee … kill, they said … All the papers say … fighting for a cause … but no man should die for another man’s life …”

Isaac’s second song was the one he wrote about the mother that walked out on her husband and son, and then when the boy turned 21 the father gave the boy a gun with which he shot down his mother.

Then it was time for No MSG’s set. He started singing, “Dababadapa …” before he began to play, but when he first hit the piano keys, they were the wrong notes. Then he started to softly play something entirely different, giving commentary as he went along, “I didn’t know that was gonna happen, so that’s kinda nice! Maybe I’ll play on the black keys now!” What he played on the black keys was similar to before. Then, “So maybe …” He began to play a little more forcefully. “That’s cheating!” Hits another chord and declares, “Now that’s really cheating!” Another chord. “That’s not cheating as much!” He began to play more percussively, with less of a melody, until he called out, “I’m lost! I don’t know where I am! Ha ha ha ha!”

Cad said to me, “He’s at the Tranzac!”

No MSG played a little longer and finally said, “Okay, I know where I am. No Freudian slips!” and that was the end of his set.

Next up was Steve Coven, who was the enthusiastic guy who’d spoken to me earlier. He also went to the piano, and also improvised, but much faster than No MSG.

His second offering was another instrumental piece with lots of cascading runs up and down the keyboard.

Yawd looked at the list and called for “Cam”, but the person wasn’t there. So then he called Matt Gaylin.

Matt’s first song was called “Belief” – “ … Trying to figure out if I can see your mind …”

His second choice was a cover of “Good To You” by Marianas Trench, but first he wanted the monitors turned down. Yawd commented that that was an unusual request, since performers tend to want them turned up – “Everyone’s around, no words are coming now … I thought I saw a sign somewhere between the lines … Maybe I only see what I want … Just got caught between someone I’ve just invented, who I really am and who I’ve become …”

Following Matt was Joy, who, in a fake British accent requested that the monitors go back up to the same channel as before. I said to Matt, “Not the same Matt channel, but the same Bat channel!”

Joy began with her signature song, “Cheap Bottle of Wine”, which is about how she likes a cheap bottle of wind and to share it while talking about life with her girlfriends.

Her second song was called “You and Me” and she asked the audience to participate. Whenever she began the chorus with “You and me” the response was “Alright!”

Next was Lisa, who started with Anthony Dekker’s “Your Rocky Spine” – “I was lost in the lakes and the shapes that your body makes … Falling over your rocky spine, the glaciers made you and now you’re mine … I was moving across your frozen veneer, the sky was dark but you were clear … With your soft fingers between my claws like purity against resolve … The wind blows a venomous rage through your hair.”

I think that Lisa’s second choice was an original – “ … If this is love, why can’t you say you love me …”

After Lisa came Signe Miranda, who is friends with Joy and Lisa, though they hadn’t seen each other for a long time.

When Signe started singing, her voice suddenly transformed into a thick southern U.S. accent that almost sounded like a parody, even though the song was serious. Her song was entitled, “Did You Break Your Own Heart When You Broke Mine?” and it was lyrically very reminiscent of the Hank Williams song “You Broke Your Own Heart”.

Signe introduced her second composition by telling us that she wrote it while taking a seminar with the Coalition Music Artists Entrepreneurs program, in which participants were given one hour to write a song – “When you come round you always bring me down … Get up the nerve to call you but my heart won’t follow through … Chasing you down is making me tired …”

The last performer of the night was Joel, who played on the Tranzac open stage with a band and solo a few times the year before.

From Joel’s first song – “ … Desperate and yearning, your best effort is turning to ash on the cigarette tray you haven’t washed since you went away … Don’t sing no love songs until the love is gone …”

From Joel’s last song – “ … I see the freckles on your nose through the mailroom window, you’re a Bay Street beauty and a King Street cutey and I got a package for you …”

Joel’s set went over especially well with Joy, Lisa and Signe. It seemed that they and Matt all knew each other from having taken the same song writing course together.

When Matt left, he said to Joy, “I’m on Facebook!” and Joy joked that “I’m on Facebook!” is the new “Bye!”

Dream Water

           

            It wasn’t as hot on Sunday, June 26th as the day before, but it was muggier and so I was sweating sooner when I took my bike ride.

            Bloor was closed off to traffic from Bathurst, I assumed to Spadina, for the Annex Family Festival, so I rode north on Bathurst. I decided to go all the way to St Clair and then to go east. I don’t think I lost any time. I went to Airdrie and Bayview and then took Airdrie east. I continued past Millwood and dipped down the side streets to Sutherland. One of those streets was McRae, where a couple of storefronts have had their signs painted over and they are clearly being used as residences. There are a lot of new buildings in the area but it’s pretty run down anyway. Airdrie ended at Crofton, so I went to Laird and headed south. I had to pee so I stopped at the Golden Griddle. It was a crappiest Golden Griddle I’d ever been in, but I didn’t need to ask to use the washroom this time.

            At Yonge and St Clair was a variety store with an ad on their window with a picture of a guy holding a little black bottle. The caption said, “Having trouble sleeping? I get a great night’s sleep with Dream Water!” It sounds so nice it’s creepy. It’s probably a harmless placebo though. I looked it up and found that there is already one lawsuit against the stuff in Florida. Another article by someone that seems to know his chemicals says that one of the ingredients may cause a reaction when taken along with several medications. Also there are no peer-reviewed studies of the product.

Customers Only

           

            As of June 25^th I was almost a month behind in posting my journal entries on my blog, on newz4u.net and on Facebook. The journal for most days was up to date on my computer, but it was the event reviews that were holding me back. In particular the Shab-e She’r event for May 31^st took ages to research and write from my notes.

            I cooked the rhubarb that I’d gotten from the food bank with the contents of a little bag of sugar that they’d given me a few months before. I forgot about it while it was cooking and I caught it just as all the water had boiled down, just saving the sugar from burning.

            My bike ride took me again to Leaside. I took Sutherland east to Millwood where it turns north and then I took it to Eglinton, then I went east to Laird and south along that. Laird seems to be the only stretch of Leaside that has any stores, so every restaurant, specialty service, school, supermarket, plaza and big box store is stretched along it, mostly on the east side.

            I had to pee really bad as I headed south and didn’t feel comfortable waiting until I got back to Yonge Street. Most of the restaurants on the west side seemed to be closed, but a sushi place that I was passing had some people dining at the window. As I got off my bike to look for a place to lock it I noticed that there wasn’t a single bike stand anywhere on Laird. I reflected at that point on how I also hadn’t seen any other cyclists so far throughout my travels around Leaside. The neighbourhood has the feel of a suburb even though it’s part of Toronto. I walked into Kintako Sushi and was greeted with smiles until the waitress found out that I just wanted to use the washroom. She told me, “We not open to public for washroom.” I responded, “Yeahhhh …?” and hesitated a moment and then a woman that seemed to be in charge nodded and so the waitress said it was okay. I went to the washroom but it was lockupied, so since there was no room to wait in the narrow space in front of the washroom door I went back into the little restaurant. I noticed that there was only one couple in a booth and that there were three times as much staff as there were customers. I would have thought they would be hungry to have customers that would want to eat there considering how empty the place was. Turn people away that only want at that time to use the washroom is the potential loss of a future customer. It turned out that it was a kitchen worker that had been using the washroom. The waitress told me I could go in because I’m sure she wanted me to finish and leave as soon as possible. I noticed that there were incense sticks in a little vase on the back of the toilet. I’d never seen those in a restaurant washroom before.

            I ate the rhubarb that I’d made with some yogourt. It was pretty good. I wonder why they don’t make rhubarb-flavoured yogourt.

            I watched an episode of Hawaiian Eye from 1961 that co-starred George Takei as a spy posing as a street urchin in Taipei. 

Goodbye to PARC

           

            As I promised myself, Friday, June 24th was the last chance for students to show up for my yoga class at PARC before I packed it in, called it quits, said goodbye, sayonara, adios and arrivederci. This would make it two months of no one coming and I was really hoping that nobody would show. After half an hour of waiting, I unhooked my fob from my key ring, closed the door on the Healing Centre, handed the fob in to Richard in reception, shook his hand and left for good.

            When I got home I sent an email to Tracy Cocks, the volunteer coordinator at PARC, to inform her that the room was now free on Fridays for something that members of the centre might actually be interested in.

            Later, I drove through the hot, but for a change fairly dry late afternoon air to continue my exploration of the Leaside neighbourhood. I took Moore and then Southvale to Millwood and then went up to Randolph, which I followed north, dipping east to Laird on the way, until Randolph ended south of Eglinton.

            On one of the side streets I heard a clanging bell coming from a little green van. It was a mobile knife sharpener. I hadn’t seen one of those guys for years. I recall that there was one in Parkdale when I first moved into this apartment.

            On the way home I took Yonge Street all the way to Queen, passing the nervous circus of buskers and evangelical clowns.

Rossini

           

            On Thursday afternoon, Nick Cushing came by with his video camera and a lapel microphone to shoot a video of me doing one of my songs. I did “Love In Remission” this time and tried three takes. I fumbled in different places on each try. I’m not really a perfectionist but I don’t want the kind of mistakes that interrupt the flow.

            That night I rode for four minutes up to Brock and Dundas for my first of two Thursdays of posing at Artists 25. When I got there, one member of the group was sitting and dozing just inside the building on the steps that lead down to the first floor. She chatted with me a bit but then apologetically told me that she was going to doze a bit more. She did so until another woman arrived and sat with us as we waited for Cy. He arrived as we were talking about my French language studies.

            Knowing that Cy’s girlfriend, Banoo, has been looking for a new venue for her poetry night, it came to me a few days before that the Tranzac might be a good home for Shab-e She’r. On one of my breaks I told Cy about it. He said that another friend of Banoo’s had also suggested the Tranzac. It’s an art friendly place; it’s a non-profit organization and Banoo could join the board of directors if she became a member. Both Cy and I agreed that the room just to the left as one enters might make a nice cozy home for Shab-e She’r. I think the space is called the Tiki Room and it even has a fireplace. Of course, it would also depend on whether they had an opening there for Banoo’s monthly event. Cy also pointed out that alcohol might change the atmosphere of Shab-e She’r. I do recall though that at the original location, at the gallery at Queen and Parliament, the owner of the space did sell wine during the break.

            Radio Canada was playing a piece by Rossini called Petite Messe Solonnelle (Little Solemn Mass). A section of it featuring a beautiful textured layering of voices really caught my ear. 

Songs For The Dead

           

            On the pleasant evening of June 22^nd, I headed out for the Fat Albert’s open stage. There was construction along College Street beginning at Bathurst and going east, so I walked my bike along the sidewalk for a few blocks until I could mount it again.

I arrived at Fat Albert’s and signed up. My two earliest possibilities to play were either number 2 or number 5. I would have preferred number 5, but since both Charles Winder and dark Cloud had written themselves in before that I was afraid that with the long flamenco pieces that Charles plays and the long songs that dark Cloud writes, that even with number 5, I might not get on before the feature.

            When I walked in, Brian Rosen was rehearsing back up vocals for one of Dark Cloud’s songs. They spent about an hour working on the piece that he wrote about Martin Luther King.

            There was no one setting up the sound at that point so I set up the tripods and mounted the speakers, hoping I’d gotten it right this time.

            When he and Brian took a break from rehearsing, Dark Cloud asked me what’s been happening at the Tranzac. I told him that I find playing for an audience of only musicians to be extremely cannibalistic. Both Dark Cloud and Bob Allen, who was sitting nearby, nodded in agreement. Brian’s ears perked up when he heard that there was an open stage at the Tranzac, until he heard what time it starts. Going out to perform in the last two hours of the day did not appeal to him at all.

            I went to the washroom and found John Reid sitting on the floor and playing guitar with his back to the wall. I thought that with the shadows cast by the bright overhead light, it made for an interesting image, so I asked if I could take his picture.

The paper towel dispenser is right in the corner behind the door. I was drying my hands when the building manager for the Steelworkers Hall opened the door and bumped me. He didn’t apologize, but rather gave me an accusing look as if to ask, “What the hell are you doing drying your hands when I’m opening the door?”

I came back and took three photos of John as he practiced Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain”. I told him if he gave me his email address I’d send them to him. He said he had one but didn’t know it, so he’d give it to me next time.

            Later, while I was sitting in the Fat Albert’s room, the building manager came to stand in the doorway and look around, giving everybody the hairy eyeball. When I saw Glen Gary I told him, and he explained that Fat Albert’s hadn’t been confirmed yet for the next week and so he the guy had been looking for him to clear that up.

            The open stage began as usual with Charles Winder, who just did one long flamenco piece that had lots of light percussion made by finger tapping after each downward strum.

            I was after Charles, and started with my translation of Serge Gainsbourg’s “L’accordion” – “ … When sometimes he massacres her buttons of pearl, he’ll rip one of his own for his accordion. When her support is in ganger he’ll lend his suspenders, so what holds his pants on is an accordion …”

            I followed this with my own “Next State of Grace” – “ … My mind hangs above this emotional wreck, like a scavenger looking for parts, and it lives in a mansion that’s built from the sweat of my tar paper third world heart …”

            The audience was actually listening this time when I played.

            Then it was Brian Rosen’s turn.

            Brian started with the traditional song, “The Three Sailor Boys” – “ We are three jolly, jolly sailor boys newly home from South Amerikee, our hearts still tingling from the salt, salt wind and the tumble and the tossing of the sea … Wind is in the sail and the thunder’s in the gale and the good ship is plunging to be free …”

            Brian told us that his second choice was about real estate, and then he sang George Vaughn Horton’s “Mockingbird Hill” – “ … Got a three-cornered plough and an acre to till and a mule that I bought for a ten dollar bill. There’s a tumble down shack and an old rusty mill and it’s my home sweet home on Mockingbird Hill …”

            Dark Cloud followed Brian, and he introduced his first song with a story. He told us that back in 1980 he had a friend that called him over to his place. When he arrived his friend informed him that he had a special telephone with which he could call heaven. He handed the phone to Dark Cloud and told him that he could call anyone in heaven with whom he wanted to speak, so he called Martin Luther King. When he asked if there was anything he could do, King asked him to write a song for him – “Well I woke up that morning and what did I see? Tears of a nation … Try walking side by side with full pride … Do you remember me? I had a dream … Do you remember the shots and the screams? My name is Martin Luther King …”

            From Dark Cloud’s second song – “ … I’ll still be by your side on that last train ride … Wheels slowing down, passing through Nashville town … the hour glass is empty, no more sand …”

            Next came Dawn.

            Her first song sounded like it was one of her own compositions – “You’re so wrong about me … let me be free … from tyranny … We’re all animals … Go and be brave, go and make history … I’m at your mercy … Liberation for the animals, cause we are all animals … Fear is what guides harmful behaviour.”

            Dawn’s second song also had the feel of being home made – “Venus, queen of love divine … Ocean of love, flowing free … join us now … let our hearts be one … bring my true love unto me.”

            Bob Allen received the formal introduction of “Robert Allen” when it was his turn. Glen Gary assisted him on the piano when he sang his own song, “Kenny and Charlie” – “I met a steamfitter named Charlie, he worked on the job every day … He had an old dog named Charlie … If anything happened to Charlie, I’m sure old Kenny would die … They both made a very good team, fixing them pumps and them boilers, a man and his dog and his dream …” Bob told us that it was a true story with a very good ending.

            Robert’s second song was another of his own – “Where have you been all my life, the ones I’ve known were full of strife … I can’t help feeling blue when you run into town with someone new … This does not change my mind, you see, I love you more each time we meet … and when you’re through with your old man, I’ll be around to take your hand …”

            After Bob was John Reid, who started with Neil Young’s “Rockin In the Free World” – “ … There’s a lot of people saying we’d be better off dead, I don’t feel like Satan but I am to them … I see a woman in the night with a baby in her hand … near a garbage can she puts the kid away and goes to get a hit … There’s one more kid that will never go to school, never get to fall in love, never get to be cool … Got Styrofoam boxes for the ozone layer … got fuel to burn, got roads to drive …”

            John’s second offering was a guitar instrumental of his own composition, called “Tuesday”. It was a good, complex and well-played piece.

            Then it was time for the feature of the night. It was Brian Morgan, with Lucien Millette on bass.

            Brian began with a story from the night before of he and Lucien rehearsing in the back yard and it started to rain. The thing was though that it was only raining on one chair. They looked up and saw that it was a raccoon urinating from above.

            Brian began with his own “Bad Mama Blues” for which Lucien played an intro on the harmonica – “I wanna testify … Every goose has a gander … but mine never comes home … She jiggles at the bar like an earthquake in a jar …” There was the repeated phrase of “Bad mama” with which the audience sang along …”

            Lucien played bass on Brian’s second song, which he said he wrote on a trip to Newfoundland, after visiting the old French fort at Placentia Bay. The song is called “Save A Moment For Me”. I’ve heard him do this song on several occasions. It’s from the perspective of a French soldier serving as a lookout in the fort, with lots of time to be homesick – “I live on dreams … Looking for ships that can’t be seen … Straining my eyes through a curtain of sea … Here on the ramparts the wind chills the bone … It’s been three years … The glory of kings I serve … I can see Paris when I close my eyes … Guard un second pour moi … lorsque je passerai eternite sans toi …” The French would be “save a second for me … when I’m passing an eternity without you.”

            Brian said that his next offering was a song of inflation from million to billion. The music was written in a Caribbean style and sung in a fake accent that is associated with that region, and Lucien sang backup vocals on the chorus – “Now I runnin round in circles and squares … Ooh whee, we gotta get us a billion … It doesn’t really make a lot of sense, there’s nothing left after the food and rent …”

            After that song, Brian and Lucien switched guitars. I had thought at first that Lucien was only accompanying Brian, but it turned out but it turned out that they were splitting the feature.

            Lucien did all covers, and his first was a Stan Rogers song called “Make and Break Harbour”, for which Brian sang the high harmony, even though he’d only first heard it the night before – “ … Once more we tack home with a dry, empty hold, saving gas with the breezes so fair, She’s a kindly Cape Islander, old but still sound, lost in the longliner’s shadow … The fish are so few that she won’t be replaced, should she founder. It’s so hard not to think of before the big war when the cod were so cheap and so plenty, foreign trawlers go by now with long seeing eyes, taking all when we hardly take any … The big draggers have stirred up the bay, leaving lobster traps smashed on the bottom …”

            Lucien took a moment to find the music for his next selection, which was Gordon Lightfoot’s “Carefree Highway”, on the chorus of which Brian sane backup – “ … Her name was Ann and I’ll be damned if I recall her face … The thing that I call living is just being satisfied without knowing I have no one left to blame … Searching through the fragments of my dream shattered sleep …”

            Lucien then put on his harmonica holder and announced that his last choice would be a Neil Young song. Mary Milne shouted out a reminder that Neil Young played Fat Albert’s back in the 60s.  The song was “Long May You Run”, which I had only figured out a few years ago was a love song to a car. Before that I’d thought the automobile imagery was metaphorical. Brian sang on the chorus while Glen Gary clapped out a rhythm from offstage – “ … It was back in Blind River in 1962 when I last saw you alive, but we missed that shift on the long decline … With your chrome heart shining in the sun, long may you run …” Brian’s harmony saved Lucien’s voice as it faltered on this one.

            Brian Morgan is a talented musician and songwriter, with a good voice. His songs, though not all outstanding, all stand apart from one another. He writes in a variety of styles, and while his lyrics are not exceptionally good, they do show that he puts a lot of thought into them. Lucien Millette works fine as a backup musician for Brian, but I think it was not a good choice for them to split their feature. As Brian performed original songs and sang them with a much better voice, he made Lucien look bad by comparison.

            Mary reminded everyone that the following week would be the last Fat Albert’s until the first Wednesday after Labour Day, so as usual there would be pot luck. Glen added, “We need roast beef, smoked meat, cold pheasant, caviar …” We were also reminded that next week would be Mary Milne’s retirement from hosting party.

            Returning to the open stage, the first performer was Bridget, with help from Ruth Jenkins.

            From her first song – “Watch what you say and watch what you do, watch what you wish for cause it might come true …”

            Bridget’s second offering was a break-up song called “You’re Still In My Heart”.

            After Bridget, performers were limited to one song each.

            Next came Elizabeth Block, who told us first of all that she’d gone to a town hall last week on the Trans Pacific Partnership, which is a trade agreement between twelve Pacific Rim countries, including Canada. She said all but one spoke against it. She quoted what she said that night, “Do I like it? No, no! I am a resister! Resisting still!” She added that as the Quakers say, “I spoke to everyone’s condition.”

            The song that Elizabeth did was in honour of her feelings on the topic of free trade. It was Grit Laskin’s “The Margins of My Neighbourhood” – “On Wednesday night I had a job …. And a begging I will go … I go past the smart cafes where I used to live … I am headed for the food bank … When there are factories on the moon, will the earth be on the dole?”

            John Stroud’s song choice was entitled “Words Like A Door”, though I don’t know who wrote it – “The words I use are dated, lines on pages faded … words like a door don’t seem to fit anymore …”

            When Mary introduced Glen Gary, she urged us to be nice to him, because he’ll be on his own next fall. Brian Morgan on violin and Wayne Neon on flute joined him on stage. Glen dedicated “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” to an old friend of Fat Albert’s named Correna, who had recently died. I think that the funeral had been that day.

            Then everyone remained on stage, plus Ruth stepped up to accompany Marianne Peck as she sang “You Are My Sunshine”. Ruth sang backup vocals. Glen directed the other musicians, calling for a violin solo after one verse, a flute solo after another and harmonica after another. Harmonica and flute do not blend well together.

            Next was someone new named Scott Rogers.  He did not name an author for the song he sang – “Take my hand and show me the right way to go … The road is dark and I’m afraid to walk this way alone … This life that I’ve led and all the riches that surround me, they’re like a stone that I’m sure in time will drown me … In love and ambition I have often travelled blind … My thoughts turn to envy and my actions are unkind …”

            After Scott came Isaac Bonk, who sang his own “Ballad of Sammy Yatim” – “ … The officers thought he would kill … His mind was lost, a line he did cross … That knife in his hand … Guns were pulled … They aimed … These cops felt no shame for the boy of 18 … The tension it grew as the bullets they flew … Now Sammy lay dead, all covered in red … nine bullets all that he was fed … The blood on their hands it’s too much to stand …”

            Michelle Lecce Hewett invited Brian and Wayne to accompany her for her song, which she wrote recently while going through her cancer journey. She told us that while she was sitting at the arts and crafts table at Sunnybrook Hospital, she drew a palm tree and tried to think of calm things. What came to mind was the phrase, “hope spring connection”, and that led to her song, “Give Me Faith” – “ … Lately I’ve been hiding, hiding away … Once I danced to Bowie, now I’m left with his songs … Give me faith, give me hope, give me connection …”

            Michelle was followed by Neil Trotter, a name that one would expect to be attached to someone with a British accent, and it is. He told us that he works for the government, pushing paper, and he looks like he does too. He sang Steve Earle’s “My Old Friend The Blues” in a nasal voice, but it was an effective rendition nonetheless – “ … Another lonely night, a nameless town, If sleep don’t take me first you’ll come around …”

            When Peter James came to the stage with his guitar, I thought that he was going to do a song, but he performed an instrumental piece. He told us that he plays it every day when he wakes up and while doing so thinks about friendships, what he might have done wrong and what he can do to make things right. He dedicated it to Correnna Lee.

            Randy was next, and as usual he’d brought a CD player, with which he sang along. This time it was Carole King’s “So Far Away”. At the end he was crying over the death of Correnna Lee, though I got the sense that Randy had not known the person at all.

            Always near the end, then came Ruth Jenkins, with Brian on violin and Glen on piano. She sang John Denver’s “Annie’s Song”, dedicated it to Correnna, and then declared, “She’s still here in the ether and that’s all there is to it!” At one point Ruth got lost and so she asked Brian to take a solo. He played facing Glen as to follow the chords.

            After Ruth was Wayne Neon, who dedicated his rendition of Hedy West’s “500 Miles” to Correnna Lee. Glen played piano and Brian played violin.

            I wondered where Tom Hamilton was this night. It seemed an odd coincidence that the only night he didn’t show up was when there was another fiddle player in the room.

            This was followed by Zoe Henderson doing a short instrumental on her ukulele. 

            The second to last performer of the night was Elizabeth Knowlton, who also dedicated her song to Correnna Lee. It seems to me that all of these dedications to Correnna would have been more useful to her if she’d received them while she was alive.

            Elizabeth read the lyrics from the music stand, which was quite a ways away from her – “I was never born, I will never die … I’m the smile upon your face … I’m the one you love to see, I’m the one you long to be … I am the ancient one … There’s a million questions, I’m the answer … I’m the sickness and the cure … I’m this twisted fate … I’m the one that bends … I’m the trouble and the fun … I’m the only place to run …”

            The last singers were the duo of Carole Farkash and Paul Nash. Unusually, Paul did not have his guitar with him this time. They sang “Today” by Randy Sparks” – “Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine, I’ll taste your strawberries, I’ll drink your sweet wine. A million tomorrows will all pass away ‘ere I forget all the joy that is mine today … I can’t be contented with yesterday’s glory, I can’t live on promises winter to spring. Today is my moment, now is my story …” When Carole and Paul were finished, they gave each other a hug, and then he took her hand to help her down from the stage.