Hey there. Here's some quick stats from the recent tour:

Days on the road: 51
Provinces: 6
States: 18
Kilometres driven: around 18000 (someone in the US can do the miles math)
Times I got lost: around 18000
Favourite show: Thunder Bay, Moose Jaw, Spokane, Ottawa - but I loved em all
Favourite audience: I think I still have to go with Moose Jaw, just because Curtis and Leslie followed me to Edmonton and Vancouver! That's dedication!
Near death experiences: a couple
Food poisoning: once
Concussions: hitting my head on the same speaker twice in Kansas City
Guns fired: Two (go read the South Dakota blog)
Animals who have licked me: 5
Prizes: two jackets (Thunder Bay), t-shirts from Sault Ste. Marie, one 12-string guitar (Vancouver)
Parking tickets: two, but I beat the one in Winnipeg
Speeding tickets: none (um... not that I've been speeding...)
Car problems: I broke the antenna off, trying to take it off so it wouldn't break in a car wash. Other than that - none. Thanks, Rent-a-Wreck!

Final tally: the $1000 phone bill that I got at the end was rough, but all in all, thanks to Rent-a-Wreck covering gas and car, and a number of amazing hosts, I think I broke even... which for an indie musician is apparently a massive success.

Best,
David

A big thank you to everyone who helped make my NORTH OF NOWHERE Tour a huge success. In no particular order, here's what is probably a hopelessly incomplete list of amazing venues, couchsurfing hosts, fantastic bands, and good friends. These folks went above and beyond the call. Thank you all!

Irene Sankoff, my stellar wife
Marty, my bitey baby black cat
Marie "Grandma" Sankoff, for babysitting Marty
Rent-a-Wreck - thank you for Wally, Laird & Philip!
Aviva Insurance, especially Paul Fletcher & Sinem Kilic, who both have the patience of saints
Doreen & Brian from Moore Wallace for amazing posters & postcards
Boulay & Flickershow, for rocking my CD release in TO
Jay Moonah on guest harmonica duty
Allison & Gail Green & The whole Green Clan
Steve at Lop Lops
Big Wheel & The Spokes
The Wawa Motor Inn - especially Kris & Sheila
Marion, Bruce, Michael & Heather Childs (and Susan, the giant iguana)
Oye from the Study in Thunder Bay
Sheila from the Apollo (thanks for the jackets!)
Shooter's in Kenora
Mitch & Ava Podolak for the best sandwiches, stories and banjo playing on the tour
NOT Dr. Hook's towing service
RJ Binge & Scott Hinkson
The Brandon Folk Music and Arts Society - Matt for having me play, and Stacy for putting me up
Dan Frechette - the reincarnation of folk music
Aphrodite - for continuing to tell me drunkenly that I was cute
Lynn Hainsworth - the conversation was much appreciated, Lynn, thanks!
John Dufourth
Bobby's place in Moose Jaw - best vegetable plate and one of the most fun shows!
My Dad, for lots of support and a welcome break
Jeff Straker, amazing pianist and good friend
Curtis from the Moose Jaw show - who came to the Edmonton show a couple days later!
Leslie from the Moose Jaw show - who came to the Vancouver show a couple days later!
Ayla Bliss, for rocking Edmonton with AA Soundsystem and for the great company
Heather Boyd
Big Horn Sheep in Jasper National Park - for making me slow down and appreciate the view
Tammy at the Kizmet Cafe - and her daughters, Yoshi the dog, and Theo the cat
Sera from the Kizmet for a great day tour and cool poetry
Terry from Rent-a-Wreck, Prince George
Carol Pearlstone
Scott Poste, brother-in-law AND roadie!
Mark Hopkinson - for coming out and for a beautiful 12-string guitar!
David & John from SHAW TV
Liz in Victoria
Heather Ralph - cousin, booker, chef, tour guide and concert promoter extraordinaire
Catharine in Spokane - my first couchsurfing friend and wonderful harp player!
Nick and the couchsurfing/mario-cart playing crew in Billings
Jeremy in Sioux Falls
Jeremy's dad & brother-in-law, for teaching me to fire an AK-47 and a Glok pistol
Nathan Singleton & His Sideshow Tragedy - one of the best bands & cheapest tshirt! $7!
My Aunt, Betsy
My Aunt, Maggie
My Aunt, Maggie's friend, Ron
Bill (Zev) Singerman
Jason & Lauren (and Ayla & Delilah) and their folks - for a wonderful thanksgiving
Keith & Connie (and her folks - for the thanksgiving we had to miss!)
Connie sister - coolest hat on the tour
Jerry Zellers
Terry Holdershaw
John at the Moonshine Cafe
My Mom - for helping in a million and one ways - and for the best house party on the tour!
Yumi & her mom
Chapters in Ottawa & Sudbury
The A-Tease - best 80's band on the tour
Audrey & Mark, Steph, and the rest of the Finklestein's
Signe
Everyone else I've missed....

Thank you thank you thank you.

Some of you already know that I'm back, but for those of you who don't... the tour's done and I'm back home safe and sound. It's been hard wrapping up loose ends with Christmas, Hanukah, New Years, sprained ankles, and a bitey black kittens. But yesterday I returned the Rent-a-Wreck.

Congratulations to Stephen Horowitz, who named the car "Wally" after an anagram of "a yellow rent-a-wreck" turning into "We race Wally on trek." Okay, it's a bit bizarre - but it's more work than I expected for a name-the-car contest. You've won yourself a gift certificate from HMV. Almost everyone else deserves runner-up kudos, but I especially liked Chris' "Otto" (A german name for a german car) and Allison Green's "Grace" (after my song lyric "Grace, you're always there for me." Marisa King gets points for most entries.

Parting was hard. Wally was my best friend for 6 weeks and by the end, I'd lost it a bit and had started talking to him. But Philip at Rent-a-Wreck seemed happy to have Wally back, so at least I know he's well taken care of. Apparently, Philip's looking to sell Wally, and I'm going to try to hook him up with Terry at the Rent-a-Wreck in Prince George who was kicking the tires. Who knows? Maybe I can drive it back across the country in a couple months.

But coming back home was great - seeing Irene and Marty again is awesome. And we got a Christmas tree and lights up in record time. I've slept a lot and watched two seasons of Grey's Anatomy (which my doctor friends assure me isn't realistic, but I don't really care...).

It's nice to be home.

Bonjour, Montréal ! Comment ça va ? Excellent, thanks for asking. Why? Because it's the last show of a pretty cool North American tour! Featuring fresh-baked bagels, parking tickets, robots and robot songs, two-way traffic, gravity hills and more.

I head out early, but still run into traffic - full-on, standstill, rush hour traffic. I was staying on the far side of Ottawa, so have to travel downtown and then out again towards Montreal. Although it's still Ontario, the countryside is clearly Québecois - something about the crisp winter fields and the old farmhouses feels... french. Or maybe I'm really tired. I'm heading to Montreal for a 10:30 meeting... which I realize an hour into the drive, is actually at 8:30. Oh god.

I phone everyone at the meeting and Ida, a friend at the office, phones me back. Good news - the meeting's at 9:30. "So don't rush and kill yourself," she says. Right. Now I just have to shave an hour off of a three hour drive. Oh god.

Luckily, the speeding gods who have smiled upon me the whole tour are still in my pocket. I get to Montreal quickly and may actually make it... until I hit rush hour. Again.

!@#$!@#$!$%

Hitting rush hour on the tour is bad planning on my part. Hitting it twice is just bad luck and stupidity rolled together. I phone again. Luckily, everything's fine and 10 is a great time for a meeting... sigh....

I park quickly and rush in. After the meeting I stop to check my hastily-parked car and have misunderstood the french - earning me a $35 parking ticket.

Ida and I do lunch and then I take the rent-a-wreck for a drive around town. Montreal is stunning at Christmas. Everything is lit up, from trees to street signs to sculptures. The city glows. I have the day to myself before I meet up with Audrey, an old friend from York. I find where I'm meeting her... and then get very tired. I get lost driving around and settle for a nap in a donut store parking lot. Classy. Finally, I meander back downtown, park the car, and check out local stores. I love Montreal bookstores - free internet, as well as a variety of very cool CDs, graphic novels, as well as dishes, puzzles, and anything else you can think of. Upstairs I find a very cool movie store with an amazing selection of french movies. Live-action TinTin!... I wish I spoke better french...

I take a lot of pictures of Christmas lights and then get a bit lost heading back to the car. Finally I find it and rush off to meet Audrey. I wait for her at what I think is the front of the building, and she waits at the side. It takes a couple phone calls to Audrey's sister to figure things out.

I follow her home through the winding streets of Montreal, trying to memorize the route, but eventually giving up and enjoying the cityscape view of the factories and cathedrals.

Audrey puts me up in her basement. We hang out for a bit, learning about Latke-making from Audrey's sister, Steph - but I am made of exhaustion and fall asleep fast.


The next day, Audrey has a surprise for me. She's found an old tape that we made, with Irene, singing songs back in University. It's very cool - and features us singing a very old song of mine called, appropriately "Montreal", about an old friend who I lost track of. Very kizmet.

We got lost in downtown Montreal
And somehow at the time I didn't care
Told you that I'd write and if I didn't write I'd call
I guess I didn't call. I guess I didn't care all...

Audrey's working from home, so I lounge around her, reading the paper and blogging. In the special "spelling bee" section (who knew?!) they list words that come specifically from Canada (among others) including: hackmatack, ogopogo, mucky-muck, and skookum. Points to those of you who can define them.

Eventually we go out. Audrey gives me the skyway tour of Montreal - stopping by steep cliffs to see the city spreak out and frozen. I love the view, but am more interested in the little things: twigs and branches perfectly encase in glass.

We go for traditional fresh Montreal bagels. SO GOOD. I buy a dozen and eat two immediately. Then Audrey heads to work and I head off to sound check.

I'm playing at a place called Zeke's Gallery with a woman named Signe (pronouced See-na), who I have only met on myspace. Audrey tells me that Zeke's is a cool place and that it's in a happening part of town, but when I get there, Zeke's doesn't have a sign, so I miss it several times. When I finally find it, it turns out to be a tiny door leading to an upstairs, very low-key art gallery. The "cool" part that I was excited about, about playing here, was that Zeke, the owner, records every show and uploads them - promoting new music on his website and via podcast. Unfortunately, his sound system is in the shop, so we're stuck just playing at the end of the art gallery (where he's also stored the next exhibit - making us look a bit like discarded pieces of art). Luckily, Signe shows up with a couple amps and my mic stand rounds it out into a good enough setup.

Zeke sound checks us and tries to convince me that I shouldn't use the microphone (which he thinks doesn't sound good enough) - just sing out to the gallery - which, after doing this in other clubs, I think won't look great, especially with Signe using the mic before me...

In order to play at Zeke's, musicians must come by to meet him, do a sound check 4 hours earlier, send bios and music, bring in an audience (he doesn't publicize, except on his own site), and agree to a lengthy contract. Signe, to her credit, dealt with him and set up everything but I'm a bit frustrated by his attitude and that his promise of a recording and online music is gone. To be fair, Zeke does some very cool stuff and clearly believes in promoting artists from a variety of genres - not only does his gallery offer art and music, but he has poetry and zines in racks at the back. It's worth checking out.

Signe on the other hand, is lovely and very sweet. This is one of her first gigs back on the music scene, since she had a terrible contract experience early on. Appparently she got signed to a lousy contract, was forced into debt, and lost the rights to her songs - she still can't sing them at this show!

We figure out the sound, put a poster on the door (so that people may actually know where to come!), and head our seperate ways. I drive around trying to find a good smoked meat sandwich. I finally hit a place call "Main" or "The Main" - a tiny, very classic diner - but apparently one of "the places" to get good Montreal smoked meat. I order a small sandwich which comes with enough smoked meat for me to give it out as gifts at the show. I consider poutine to complete the full Montreal experience, but then reconsider and order a salad. A heart attack mid-performance just isn't worth it.

Over dinner, I finally finish A Short History of Nearly Everything, which I bought in Victoria. A great book. One of his final thoughts is that our story on earth has actually been pretty short - barely even a footnote in our planet's history. Again, this whole tour is put in a perspective - what's 6 weeks or touring? To me, a LOT. But compared to dinosaurs... I resolve to put more things in perspective by comparing them to dinosaurs...

Back at Zeke's we warm up and eventually some folks arrive; for me: Audrey and Steph, Audrey's boyfriend Mark, and other friend - and from Aviva, a good translator friend, Nina, and her boyfriend. Nina is dressed to the nines and I feel very underdressed (and cold!) in my tshirt. Anyway, it's a pleasure to have a good friendly audience.

Signe does a great opening set, playing some beautiful originals and covers. I sit at the back and enjoy it, although I'm getting sleepy... after the tour is over, I am going to sleep for days. After a bit, she invites me onstage to duet on a cover of Till I Am Myself Again - a Blue Rodeo tune - and usually very high for me, but tonight it feels great. I feel comfortable and happy to have played for 6 weeks straight and am now just having fun.

My set goes well, although I'm a bit sloppy - more being tired than any nerves. I think I told the audience that I wanted to practice my french, and then tried to translate Seventeen's chorus into french ("Elle est vinght-huit... je suis dix-sept")... it doesn't go so well... I make up a song for them about "the sculpture on stage" (which looks like a robot), "black ice" and "basket weaving"... it's about the Robot sculpture on stage hating me and wishing people would look at it more. I think at one point in the song the Robot threatened to "take me out back"... Anyway, it's a fun show, but I am clearly tired and ready to head back to Toronto.

Everyone says nice things, a couple buy CDs and I think everyone enjoys themselves a fair bit. Signe may be coming to play Toronto soon, so I'm looking forward to seeing her play again.

Before the night ends, Audrey and her boyfriend Mark lead me through the dark Montreal streets in an awesome little tour. They show me castles of the rich and famous - a whole area of town made of beautiful grey stone. At the end is the cathedral where Celine Dion (Montreal's royalty) was married - and a stunning view. We make a wrong turn and I learn what a kill-de-sac is (cul-de-sac is french for "dead end" and apparently "kill-de-sac" is a dead end up a ridiculously sloped street, where turning around almost kills you. Or at least that's my interpretation. Finally, we're driving along and Mark suddenly jumps out of Audrey's car and runs back to mine. They take me to an off-ramp, sloped downward, that if you stop on it and then let the car roll, it rolls backwards... uphill! Mark calls it "gravity hill" and really it's just an optical illusion, but is pretty freakin cool.

We get home, hang out with Steph and Audrey's dad a bit, but eventually hit the hay. In the morning, we say goodbyes and I am on my way hom. On the way out of Montreal, I hit traffic again. Sigh...

Ah Otttawa: Three shows in two days, playing at the top of an escalator, opening for an 80's cover band in a russian bar, and a house concert... at my moms. Here we go!

Ottawa's one of the prettiest big cities - the kind of place where you go to high school and think it's boring, but then leave for university and eventually come back to play a show and realize, "hey, this is a beautiful place..." Or maybe that's just me. Anyway, it's nice. On the other hand, it's cold. This is the coldest it's been on the tour and it suddenly feels like Winter. Once I took my girlfriend to Ottawa for Winterlude - a celebration of all things Winter (Ice Sculptures, Skating, Beavertails (a tasty treat - not actually the tail of a beavertale - make sure to clarify to future girlfriends if you plan on bringing them...). Anyway, she thought I'd taken her to the North Pole.

Okay, I'm rambling. The point is - Ottawa gets cold.

I drive up Saturday morning, getting up too early and regretting planning these extra couple shows just after getting home and starting to feel a bit settled. I've done this drive a million times and unfortunately it's a bit boring... but it goes fast. 4 hours for what should be a 6 hour drive...

I get to town in time for lunch with my moms. To those not in the know, I've got two moms - my "bio-mom", Diana, and her partner Jean. I also have lots of other parents. There were seven of them at my wedding.... just imagine...

It's nice to see the moms - they just moved back to Ottawa and look really happy here. They're all excited about hosting a house party for me tomorrow night. But first is lunch and then rushing down to Chapters bookstore in the Rideau Centre - the big mall downtown.

Which turns out to be a GREAT place to play. Who knew?! After some chaplin-esque routines through a packed bookstore with a soundsystem, guitar and boxes, I get set up at the top of the escalator - a great location because EVERYONE who comes upstairs sees me... and is instantly confused about what the heck is going on... wasn't I just in a bookstore?... why is that guy singing at me?



Right before I play, an old friend from high school, Yumi, shows up - with her mom, who remembers me. It's great to see them both and it puts me in a great mood to play the show. My moms sit in the front row and mouth the words to every song, occasionally singing harmonies. Other moms come and sit in the audience with their kids. And they all love it. Apparently I've found my target demographic: mothers in bookstores. Very rock and roll.

Seriously, they're a great audience and I'm having a lot of fun playing at the top of the escalator and saying "welcome to the 2nd floor of Chapters!" as people arrive. Or saying "You know what makes excellent Christmas presents? CDs by unknown independent singer/songwriters who you run into in bookstores..."

Apparently they do make excellent Christmas presents, as I sell a bunch. A little girl in the front row tells me about her cat and we make up a song on the spot that the audience loves.

I take a quick break and come back to a new audience, who, although they seem to like me enough, aren't interested in buying CDs whatsoever. It's bizarre how the same show in the same place by the same guy is somehow completely different.

I wrap up and head out, with a nice recommendation to other Chapters from Tim, the manager there. We head back home for food and then run out to show #2, at the Avant Garde Bar.

The Avant Garde is a bizarre Russian place - filled with iconic cold war-esque imagery. The little stage at the end is chock filled with sound equipment when I get there... but the bartender tells me that I can't use any of it... because it belongs to the 80's cover band that I'm opening for (called appropriately "The A-Tease"). So, on the tiny stage, filled with... wow... a fog machine and party lights... I put my speakers in front of theirs, my monitor on theirs and my mixer in front of their keyboard. It's pretty squished up there - fortunately, there's only one of me.

Unfortunately, there's only two of the audience. Yumi comes back to hang out and my mom is there. I guess there are two bartenders as well...

So I start to play for them - every song is a request and I play some stuff I haven't played in years. And then slowly, people start to come in. The A-Tease come and hang out at the bar. I play them Walking on Sunshine and then we make up a song together about "aging wannabe rockstars whose careers are going nowhere" (their suggestion). The chorus goes something like, "I'm not talking about me... but if I was... this is what I'd sing."

Eventually the whole place is filled with people. Likely A-Tease fans, confused about what the folk is happening on stage. Finally I end things, and pack up, selling CDs to the bartender and some A-Tease fans. My mom heads off and Yumi and I hang out and sing along, enjoying the mesh shirts, the fog machine, and the party lights. Here's some pictures of them (the back of my head's in the first shot). And here's some shots from Yumi.

Next day I sleep in. A lot. I finally get up and help my folks set up the house for the concert.

Interesting note: the next day, I find out that my mom thinks the show was a disaster (not my performance - she's my mom and not allowed to), but the turnout and the talking during my set. I, on the other hand, had a LOT of fun, so think it was a complete success. Potatoe, Po-tah-to.

Anyway, back to the show. Their new house is perfect - lots of room and even stage lighting! Tickets have been sold through the local folk association and we should have a packed house. We go out for dinner with my family and then head back. At the end of the tour, I'm rarely nervous before a show, but my folks have put a lot of energy into this, so I want to make it worth it. Their neighbour, Dennis opens up with some great renditions of classic folk tunes, including some fantastic Dylan. His kids run all over the house and are totally cute, but get shushed a lot by the grown ups.

We take a quick break and then I start - and immediately like house concerts. It really hard to stay nervous in any way while playing in a living room... in your socks. I say, "Let me start by saying that I'm used to playing in noisy bars and bookstores, so please mill around and talk amongst yourselves. Get some drinks." No one does, but it seems to put everyone at ease.

What a great show! I like being in a band, 20 feet from the stage with lights and fog, as much as anyone, but I really love being three feet away from my audience and improvising songs off the cuff. I make up another cat song about a neighbourhood cat, who one of the audience members walks on a leash - and how it's completely humiliating to the cat. Note to self: cat songs = funny! I get a couple requests, but the one that I wish I could have done was "protest songs" - apologies especially to my mom, who has sang me MANY protests songs. I take a lame stab at Blackbird, but it's not quite the same.

Anyway, it's a sweet show. And afterwards I find out why house concerts are truly great; almost 40 audience members at $15 a pop, all invested in the music and interested in buying CDs = almost 5 times what I normally make at a show. Wahoo!

Thanks to Yumi, the A-Tease, and especially my Moms for making a trip back home an excellent way to wrap up a tour.

After the food poisoning from Sunday's trip, it's all I can do to just get to work and get back home - possibly doing small things like laundry. I have to cancel my show in Kitchener-Waterloo on Monday (sorry Terry!), which is lousy.

Still, it's lovely to be home. All the imperfections of our new house are forgiven. The only problem is that it's missing my kitten, Marty. We've left him at his Grandma's until we get things in order and I miss him. I worry that after 6 weeks he won't remember me.

Thursday, I play in Oakville. No one in Oakville who I talk to seems to know where the Moonshine Cafe is, but they should, because it's a great place. Afghans across the chairs, instruments everywhere, and local paintings on the wall mark it as a folksy, homey local coffeehouse and one of my favourite venues. Plus the local jamming house band is always good.

Some good friends from work come out (printers who I work with, Doreen & Brian (& his wife Dorothy)). I owe them BIG TIME for the beautiful work they did on my postcards and posters. They're the best - and are not only a joy to work with, they also are incredibly supportive. Doreen used to be Danny Michel's landlord - I am a HUGE fan of Danny Michel and try not to ask her too many questions about him.

A local girl (I missed her name) opens for me and plays a lovely couple of songs on piano. My show is fun (a group of artists (a gaggle? a flock?) come in and start sketching me as I play)- and long - I play every original song I know and when I run out, I make up a new one. I tried this back in Moose Jaw and it went well, so I thought I'd give it another go. I say, "what should we do a song about?" They suggest, "The Moonshine Cafe", "Spam" and "Something that rhymes with Regina"... and I make up a pretty cool song about playing there ("at the Moonshine Cafe... my kind a (rhymes with Regina... sort of) place" and how I've been travelling in a tiny little metal car ("like spam... on wheels"). The audience loves it. I have to do this more often.

I pick Irene up on the way back in to town. One more day together before I have to leave for Ottawa and Montreal. Not enough time.

The next day, Irene and I do breakfast with friends, Larry & Betsy and their beautiful new baby. Then we head downtown to see The Drowsy Chaperone on Broadway - SO GOOD! Here's a quick story behind it: Two Canadian comics got married and their improv friends wrote a musical for them for their bachelor party. Since then it's been a Toronto fringe hit, produced by the Mirvishes, and now a Tony-award winning musical on Broadway (including a well-deserved Tony for the groom, Bob Martin, who had a part written for him - how's that for a wedding present?!?)

We then rush up to Irene's Aunt & Uncle's, Rose & Pete's place for Thanksgiving dinner. It's great to see her whole family, but I only get about an hour to spend there (I miss dinner - and Rose and Pete are GOOD cooks, so this is a tragedy) because I have to head downtown to Kenny's Castaways where I'm playing at 7pm. Irene stays behind - she's sprained her ankle and it's hurting too much to do much walking. Plus, like I said, Rose & Pete are really good cooks.

Kenny's Castaways is down in the village - and I'm thrilled to play there after passing by it so many years. But it's US Thanksgiving and a lot of people I'd hoped would come are out of town. Still, I get to see some old friends. Jerry Zellers - who famously used to yell "play the fucking song again!" after I played Guilt Trip Song - and Connie & Keith, who have always been amazingly supportive. A small show, but like I said, it's New York and I'm always thrilled to play here. And a couple people who I assume are ignoring me at the end of the bar, stop me to tell me how much they liked my music and buy some CDs. Hooray!

The next day we head back to Toronto, where, after a 12 hour drive, and several fast food stops, I end up in the emergency room for 9 hours with food poisoning. Welcome home!

Irene flies in in the morning. It's been toooooo long. I missed her like crazy. And she looks a million times more beautiful than I remembered (and I remembered her looking pretty beautiful). Remind me never to leave her behind on tour again.

Since this is a music blog, I'll keep this short - there's no shows until New York - three days from now. A really nice break. We get stuck in traffic - but don't care. We get lost in Chicago - but don't care. We consider moving to Chicago. We get a sweet hotel room. We visit with our friend Thomas from NYC (Thomas designed my original website and I should really thank him publically - it was a killer site and the structure is still here). He's now in Chicago studying theatre and, I think, loving every minute. Thomas is good people.

We stay out late. We wake up late. We drive a long way to Pittsburgh - talking the whole way. We have Thanksgiving dinner at my cousin Jason's house, with his lovely wife Lauren and my aunt and uncle, Ken & Judy, and Lauren's folks. The food is amazing. Their house is amazing. Their dog is amazing (a beautiful Bernese Mountain dog, who, when she runs, looks like two guys in a dog costume). Pittsburgh seems like "poster child for the American dream" - there are neatly raked leaf piles on beautiful lawns next to kids playing football with their parents, against stunning houses, trees, and American flags.

We leave the next day late - enjoying ourselves too much - and drive to NYC. We've check into the Days Inn on the uppper west side, which looks to have recently been renovated - from, what we can only assume used to be a "by-the-hour" hotel. There are holes in the 7th floor hallway that you can see the lobby through. The ice machine is on the 5th or 10th floors, and the 2nd floor is filled with some kind of dust that makes you cough.

But it's New York and we're thrilled to get back there.

I expect great things from Chicago. I've seen the musical twice and the movie once. Despite all other evidence to the contrary, I expect leggy women in fishnets and gangsters. I am in a pretty great mood leaving the confusing twin cities of Minneapolis & St. Paul and resolving to (A) look at maps (B) ask for directions and (C) never get lost again.

In Chicago, I'm playing at the Elbo Room - apparently well known, although I think there may be multiple "Elbo Rooms" across North America. I'm staying with an old friend from New York - "Zev", as he was known then, is now "Bill" again - and seems to be doing great. He's a teacher in town and seems to love Chicago. I think it was him who described Chicago as "New York with everything you want from New York and nothing you don't."

I get in and meet up with Bill and we head over to the club. The Elbo Room is a funny place, with a small upstairs bar and a large downstairs music area that you wouldn't know was there, unless you were told. The sign outside doesn't list anyone tonight, but does proclaim that they have "good food" and "cool music" which I'm sure will draw in massive crowds.

I'm opening up for two acts - and I feel terrible, because I've alread forgotten one of their names (Pearl something?) and Halo Stero, from Nashville, and Budweiser's "Band of the Year!" Holy! I'm on first, then Halo Stereo, and then the local group that played there the night before (Pearl.... nuts.... can't remember) and was asked by Halo Sterio to join us. Another booking rant: why would you book two out of town groups (one acoustic and one alt rock) together on the same night without anyone local?


Oh well. We sound check. Halo Stereo are really pretty good. Plus they look uber professional. Their merch stand, complete with mannequins, includes their own lighting (next to my CDs and posters lit by candlelight). I ask them about being "Band of the Year" and they explain - it was a battle of the bands that they entered on a whim and won. But aside from bragging rites, it really doesn't come with much else - Budweiser won't pony up much sponsorship money and they seem a bit bitter about it all. In contrast, rent-a-wreck looks pretty damn great.

I'm supposed to have a couple folks coming out, but they don't show. Bill's friends also bail, so by 9:30, when I'm supposed to play, there's no one there except me, Bill, the sound guy, and the bartender. Even the other bands aren't there. This is pretty pathetic.

To defend myself - it's a Tuesday (right before US Thanksgiving) in a town where I've never played before and where we didn't get much press... so why would anyone come out? I don't know, but this sucks. The sound guy suggests that there are some people in the upstairs bar, so I go up, throw some postcards around and tell them that I'm playing - and most of them come down. Very nice.

It's actually a fine show - not a great crowd, most composed of other musicians (alt rock and much heavier musicians too) but they don't seem to hate me. I pick out a nice couple who, I assume, have come to see someone else. They seem to be enjoying it. I sing to them a lot.

Afterwards, I talk to Bill who, leaving early the next day for US Thanksgiving, is going to head home. I hang out with the musicians and then go over to talk to the couple, hoping to sell a CD or make a contact before the other bands play. Turns out these guys have come out specifically to hear me. Apparently, I was listed in one of Chicago's papers - comparing me to Blue Rodeo - and these guys know Blue Rodeo (a rarity in the States) and on a whim decided to come out and see me play. Awesome! They're totally nice and they make my night.

That was Chicago. A very small show in a big town on a bad night - salvaged by my friend Bill, and two nice ex-pats. No leggy women or gangsters - but a pretty cool town. And tomorrow, it gets even cooler because Irene comes to town.

My dad's family is from Minnesota - it's where I spent my summers at my family cabin (literally a log cabin in the Mille Lacs lake area ("Thousand Lakes" to us anglophones). I've got a couple days off, so I'm hoping to visit my aunt and, if there's time, the family cottage. Both turn out to be strange reunions... and both journeys involve getting lost many times.

---

Kansas city: The next morning I say goodbye to Betsy and head out, stopping at a local music store, but finding nothing really of interest - then, realizing I forgot a book at Betsy's, heading back there, and saying goodbye again. A useful morning.

I drive back North. No show today. I'm just working on getting to Minneapolis. In two days I've hit 6 states, breaking my border crossing record. In Canada, crossing provinces feels like a big deal - often the whole geography of the place changes, from rolling hills to prairies, or from prairies to mountain ranges. Either way, it's clearly evident that you are in a new place. America, on the other hand, seems segmented at random. I didn't even notice that yesterday I was in Nebraska. And today, I sail through Iowa without batting an eye. Maybe I've gotten desensitized to everything, but whereas before, the journey was more important, now the destination is driving me and it makes the spaces inbetween feel looooooooong.

I'm writing this several days later and honestly, I feel bad, because I have no memory of Iowa. Or really of Minnesota. I spend most of the time feeling lost. I keep waiting for that moment where my childhood memory will kick in spontaneously, but it doesn't happen.

Looking online later, I realize I've missed a lot - I wish I'd seen the cool "giant spoon with cherry" bridge. It would have capped off nicely my "giant things" collection (goose, moose, teepees, nickel, loonie, etc.).

Like Kansas City, Minneapolis is a twin city - together with St. Paul, Minnesota's capitol, they combine to form one massive amount of roads and confusion for hapless indie musician visitors. My biggest beef is that they both have similar road names, so as a totally random example, if you were to get off the highway (finally) drive to a hotel, get a map, and ask the guy at the front desk, where X street is - he'd ask you "which city?" Then you'd guess, and head into the centre of, yes, the wrong city and have to work your way out. This doesn't happen in Toronto.

Anyway, I get in and find my way to Ron's place - Ron is a friend of my other aunt, Maggie, whom I'm visiting (but who is in the hospital right now). Ron's agreed to put me up - he's a real nice fellow with a very deep voice - maybe from smoking? Everyone in my dad's family smokes and their coughing illustrates the damage done. Not just due to smoking, Ron's had many heart attacks and a stroke and sports a long scar along the center of his chest, where he had surgery. But he seems to be living much healthier now and is a pleasure to chat with. Still, after 8 hours in the car, I'm pretty beat. We phone Maggie at the hospital and agree to meet her the next day. Then I sleep like a rock.

The next day, with some time in the morning (Ron wanted to wait until noon to see my Aunt) I clean out my car. Imagine packing a college kid's room into a small VW bug and you'll understand what this looks like. My gracious hosts keep apologizing for small messes and I keep responding "you should see my car!" Anyway, today, I'll be driving Ron to visit Maggie at the hospital, so I need to make it into a 2-person vehicle again. It's actually a relief to reorganize everything. (Rent-a-wreck sponsors, take note - it's ALL CLEAN and PRISTINE now! It was just... um... a bit disorganized... =).

Ron decides not to come, so I head over to the hospital - getting lost on the way there and getting lost in the hospital. I finally find Maggie, who is still her feisty self, arguing with a doctor about whether she should be moved (to be fair, the doctor was being kind of a jerk). Turns out the Maggie's just been released from the hospital (she was there for breathing problems (see "smoking" above...)).

Maggie leaving the hospital means that Ron has to drive her car back to her house, where one of her roomates can get it and come to the hospital to pick her up, and that I have to drive to her house to pick up Ron and get him back to his house. You know what? Don't ask. It's too confusing.

Anyway, it was great to see Maggie. She still has one of my favourite laughs in the world and, like her sister Betsy and my Dad (and my Aunty Kay, before she passed away) has a great sense of humour, even in the middle of distressing events.

I do, on the other hand, want to get up the cabin. I haven't been there in years and it's a good 2-3 hours away. It's now 3pm and I boot it up north. Surprisingly, I get lost again. And my cell phone starts threatening to die. And it's suddenly night. And, as my friend Sam would say, "it's cold and there are wolves."

I keep expecting to see Pine Center, a two or three building intersection that calls itself a town - and which I remember quite clearly, but when I finally get there, I find that all three buildings have been completely changed - eliminating all chance I have of navigating by memory. I drive East. I drive West. I drive South. This takes a long time and I'm in a wonderful mood. I come back to Pine Center and stop in the bar there (one of the three buildings). My cabin is on a lake called Camp Lake, which according to the bartender, there are several roads to. Great. She draws me a picture and I leave again, determined but desperate.

Before you ask, yes, I got directions from Maggie - but I apparently missed a turnoff somehow because I've approached everything from a different direction. Anyway, more driving around in the dark. I use up my last cell phone life line and phone Maggie who gives me the final piece of information - getting me to an old dirt road with signs of the family cabin owners - including, "HEIN."

Down a long dirt road, through the darkness - it's like peering into your past with a flashlight, illuminating old musty memories. There's the doctor's property with the chain across the driveway. There's the neighbour's place where their grandaughter, Amy, and I used to play Atari 2600 (dating myself there...). There are deers prancing along the road - no one comes here in November, so they've got the run of the place and are as surprised to see me as I am to see them. And there, in the dark, is the sign that marks the driveway to my cabin.

This cabin was made by my great grandfather Dave Hein (who I think I was named after). It's old, is heated by a wood stove, and doesn't have a shower, but it's on a beautiful lake and there's something comforting about generations of family using the same small space - filling it with old monopoly boards, comics, posters, and blankets - accumulating layers of history.

Unfortunately, with Maggie getting sick, it hasn't been kept up well and it could use a good cleaning. There's some signs of mice, but not as much as I thought. I set the car headlights to shine in through the front door and, taking the flashlight that I bought at a gas station, I explore.

Like in Saskatoon, everything's familiar - but compacted into a smaller space. I take a lot of pictures. In the dark, the lights bounce around reflecting eerily off the windows and mirrors, freaking me out a bit. This feels like the start of a horror movie - and without a working cell phone, or anyone with me... I wonder if there are still bears in these woods. The deer heads on the walls, hunted decades ago by my namesake, should make it creepier, but they are old friends who I made my peace with long ago.

Maybe it's the darkness or the 18 years since I've been here, but I feel detached from everything a bit. I've been reading Bill Bryson's "A Short History of Nearly Everything" (yes, I'm still reading it - when you're driving and playing there's not much time for reading). In one recent chapter he talks about how our cells regenerate - so that every 10 years or so, your body is made completely of different cells - you're essentially an entirely different body from the one you were 10 years ago - a different person. That's what I feel like here.

Under the army bunk bed on the porch, where I used to sleep, I find some old toys and a box of comics. And finally, I find something to connect to. I'm still that kid, lying awake, reading old Tarzan comics that another relative left there from years before, and stocking that comic box with new issues begged for from the small store in Pine Center.

I take the box - at this point, Mice will just eat the comics - and I close up the cabin. I stand in the darkness, staring out at the trees, down to the lake and say goodbye.

I get back very late - losing my way and accidentally heading into Minneapolis instead of St. Paul. Stupid twin cities. I stop at Maggie's to see how she's doing and to say goodbye to her. We hang out with her assortment of cats and dogs - all lovely and thrilled to see her back at home. I'm happy that I saw the cabin, but more important was reconnecting with my aunts.

Back at Ron's, I fall asleep, looking forward to Chicago - where I play at the legendary Elbow Room and where Irene flies in to meet me.

Dear Aunty Emm
I hate the farm
I hate Kansas
I'm taking the dog...

Staying in a hotel is always good - and staying just 3 hours away from my next stop feels like heaven. I have all the time in the world to spend on the internet, figuring out where I'm going, eat a leisurely continental breakfast, and go shopping, culminating in a haircut at "Hair & Tan." I skip the tanning session, but get a pretty good cut.

I'm now in family territory again. I'm dipping down to Kansas City primarily to see my aunt Betsy, who I haven't seen since my aunt Kay's funeral. I've been booked into Mike's Tavern, which, according to its own website, is "legendary."

My googled directions lead me through the city - two cities actually. Like alternative realities, there are 2 Kansas Cities, one in Kansas and one in Missouri. I know very little about either of them, so I turn to Wikipediea:

Kansas City, Missouri sits at the junction of the Missouri and Kansas Rivers and sits opposite Kansas City, Kansas. It is the largest city in the Kansas City Metropolitan Area, the most populous city in Missouri, the seventh largest city in the Midwest, and the 40th most populous city in the United States. The city's tap water was recently rated the cleanest among the 50 largest cities in the United States, containing no detectable impurities.

Yep. Apparenty it's known for it's tapwater - at least on Wikipedia.

Despite having all the time in the world and google-mapping the heck out of the town, I still get lost, need to get directions from a girl in a KFC drivethrough, and get to the club just in time. The legendary Mike's tavern is kind of run down and situated in a dark, unpopulated area (but then the best legendary bars are).

Here's what their writeup on their website says:

Mike's is a place where the unexpected happens. David Bowie's band played here. George Wendt (Cheers) honed his beer guzzling character Norm at the end
of the bar while a student at nearby Rockhurst University. When Paul Rudd (Friends, Clueless, Cider House Rules) visits family and friends in Kansas City, he makes it a point to stop by. You never know who you'll bump into here, so come on in and surprise yourself.

It's actually a nice place. Coming from smoke-free Toronto, I'm still surprised by smoking being allowed in bars, but otherwise, it's a good enough little place. George Wendt and Paul Rudd are nowhere to be found, but my Aunty Betsy and her friends Bill and Kelly are there.

Between catching up with them, I hang out and set up. There's a low hanging speaker on stage with a sign underneath it that reads "watch out for speaker." Which is great if you happen to be underneath the speaker, but if you're on stage, climbing down, you quickly brain yourself. There's not much audience yet, but they think it's pretty funny. At the bar I'm given less sympathy - "Yep. Everyone hits their head on that thing."

I hang out in the back with Nathan Singleton & His Sideshow Tragedy (www.nathansingletonmusic.com) - two guys from Austin who are on the last show of a short tour. Nathan's the front man, who plays dobro and rocks out like nobody's business. His Sideshow Tragedy is Jeremy Harrell on drums. I ask Jeremy if he's okay with being a sideshow tragedy and he says, "well, it's cooler than being Nathan Singleton!" Good folks - and awesome musicians - more on them later.

I've been booked by a booker who I've never met and I find out that there are FOUR bands on the bill tonight. One is heavy metal, the other no one in the bar knows anything about, and NS&HST is kind of bluegrass rock. I have no idea where I fit in, but probably better with Nathan, who are right after me. The downside to having FOUR bands is that I have to go on quite early and there's really not much crowd. My Aunty Betsy and her friends, three guys who liked it when I hit my head. And in the back a bunch of drunk college kids all dressed up - one as Captain America.

As I'm just about to start I hit my head on the stupid speaker again. The three guys in the audience love it. I tell the crowd that "I probably have a concussion at the moment, so your job is to clap as loudly as possible and keep me awake."

Honestly, I don't remember much of the show. It goes okay. Some of the crowd likes it, but I can't seem to capture them like other shows - maybe it's because they're there for heavy metal or, what I find out later, the last band's ambient lyric-less prog rock. I blame it on the concussion. Still, it's not a bad show - just not brilliant.

Afterwards, while NT&HST are setting up, I tell the bar that they should just tape a towel against the speaker, which they do - I feel like I've left my mark.

Nathan & Jeremy startup and are AWESOME. Killer dobro slide action by Nathan and catchy grooves by Mister Tragedy on drums. Very good stuff. I buy a $7 tshirt afterwards and everyone buys their CDs. In comparison, I sell only one or two. Sigh. Still, we make friends, trade CDs and I get an invite down to Austin.

I listen through the next bands, waiting to get paid. As promised the 3rd band is heavy metal and the 4th is prog rock - kind of cool, and some great players, but I want someone to get on stage and sing with them. The crowd, on the other hand, is there for them, dancing and grooving along.

I'm exhausted, so I talk to the bar and get paid... $30. Since there's only one of me, I get less than the rest. Frankly, the fact that NT&HST get only $50, when they have to get all the way back to Austin the next day is a bit of an insult. Here's a quick rant: don't book 4 bands with two out-of-towners as openers - they will have barely any audience and will be annoyed that you gave them less than the gas to get to town.

Do I sound like I'm getting tired of touring yet? Mostly I'm just upset at myself for not getting the guarantee in writing.... or maybe I'm a little tired of it. I'm sick of driving 10 hour days and am looking forward to seeing Irene in Chicago.

I head back to my aunt's and we stay up hanging out. Betsy, like her cats, is pretty much nocturnal, so we stay up till 3, when I can barely keep my eyes open. It's lovely to see her though and go through old family papers - and great to catch up when it's not a funeral.