I stop by Regina and pick up a key to the place I'm staying. John Dufourth is nicely putting me up after another bed fell through. There's a whole network of folkies across the country and it's always nice to meet more of them. John's house is lovely, but he wishes he could sell it - but based on the location, it's not worth enough - leaving him in a limbo state. But he's always willing to put up travelling musicians, and it's nice to join that cast of characters.

John gives me excellent directions to Moose Jaw - basically a straight line (with one sharp curve). Regina's lights slowly fade into the background and a heavy darkness falls over everything - no stars, no city, no nothing. And then suddenly, out of nowhere, Moose Jaw, with all it's inappropriately early, but beautiful, Christmas lights appears.

I'll admit I wasn't really looking forward to this show - I wanted to spend more time in Saskatoon or head out early to Medicine Hat to visit with my dad. But a gig is a gig, even if it's a Monday on a wintery night.

I finally find the bar (I've given up on maps and now just ask for directions). It's called Bobby's Place - an Irish pub with a cool tartan carpet across from the bus station and staffed by some really nice folks. We set up the sound system and I move in. They're worried about having enough people out, but I'm not - I'm still thinking about last night in Saskatoon and am imagining that I'll just be background music again.

But as the crowd comes in, I start to make some early friends. One woman is touring across the country as well, from California, doing a university tour to find a place to do her masters (see you in BC, Leslie!). She and her friend join me and we talk happilly. Others look at my postcards and ask questions about the map. Everyone seems genuinely happy to be there and excited about listening. Maybe it was the article in the Moose Jaw Times Herald - I was on the front page and a nice story about me was inside. I get a great homecooked dinner, including a plate of fresh veggies which are a welcome addition to my bizarre touring diet.

It's not a huge crowd, but I start anyway. I offer requests and do Radiohead, Dave Matthews, Neil Young, and Counting Crows. I take a break and sell CDs... to EVERYONE - holy! What a great crowd! Even people who have just arrived and haven't heard me yet, but have talked to others, buy a CD. How much do I love Moose Jaw?

I get encouraged several times by multiple people that I should seriously consider getting into country music.

During the break some new folks come in - 6 guys who are loud and clearly there for drinking (but who later turn out to be awesome folks who all buy CDs). I talk with them about being born in Saskatoon, but living in Toronto... They're not big fans of Toronto.



Lisa behind the bar turns out to be a pretty mean salesperson/shrinkwrap cutter... I probably owe her a commission for selling that many CDs...

One woman, Angie, wants me to improv a song - making it totally up on the spot - something I've thought about doing but haven't tried yet. I've done some improv classes at Second City, but am never sure how it'll translate into song. After a couple tunes, Angie starts yelling "improv! improv!" so I give it a whirl and come up with a pretty cool little song about driving out to Bobby's place (except that nothing rhymes with "tartan carpet"). The crowd loves it. I play "another time of year" with my standard intro ("can't remember which way I'm going and which way is home") and the 6 guys yell "Where's home? Toronto or Saskatchewan?" and I immediately say, "Moose Jaw" Later the whole crowd and I share a moment as Angie and her boyfriend BOTH visit the ladies room together... one way to keep warm during a snowstorm....

Finally, I convince the 6 guys to sing backup for Dear Aunty Emm which they do spectacularly, drunkenly well (you're all hired, guys!). On their final note, my guitar string breaks, and I finish with a bang.

I hang out for a while, sign more CDs (and a pair of overalls "To Jolene" - because apparently the owner of the overalls will be in trouble for being out drinking (and for forgetting for a moment how to spell "Jolene")), Leslie takes a picture of me with the guys. Then I pack up and head back to Regina, away from the Christmas lights and into the darkness.

Don't let anyone tell you different. Moose Jaw Rocks.

Oh - I almost forgot - on the way back, I pick up a hitchhiker - I don't know why I do this - I've been warned enough times. But it's below freezing and no one should be out in this weather. I don't remember the guy's name, but he's an indian story teller travelling out from BC - he's been hitching for days and occasionally sleeping in drainage pipes. He gives me advice on where to stay in Medicine Hat and I drop him at the Salvation Army in Regina. The whole way I questioned why I picked him up - but maybe it doesn't matter - I'm glad he got a warm place to stay. As a fellow story teller (who has even more reason to thank rent-a-wreck now) I wish him well.