Last weekend I air miled my way out to Brandon, Manitoba for the Brandon Folk Festival - 3 days of amazing music, new friends, and some good adventures including kitten attacks, cruising in a car with no brakes, frisbee trash-talking, drunken bonfire jams, and a lot of people obsessed with jetpacks...

=====================

FRIDAY

To get to Brandon, I have to leave early early early. For some reason, Air Miles only has early or late flights, so I leave at 8 in the morning (okay, it's not THAT early, but I'm pretty stupid tired, having finished packing the night before at 1am and having to leave at 6).

The plane ride is smooth - I get the "next to the emergency" door seat, which mean I get more leg room - important for 6'3" people. Unfortunately, the kids behind me have decided to scream the whole way, so I plug my ears with headphones and watch music videos on my cool personal back-of-the-seat TV.

I arrive in Winnipeg and realize that I have no idea who I'm meeting except that her name is Marni. Luckily Marni is smart and has made a cool "David Hein" sign with music notes all around my name. I feel very rock-star.

Marni's very cool and is excellent car company for the 2.5 hour drive to Brandon. She's also gotten up uber early to drive to Winnipeg and then drive back. Marni fills me in on the fest (she's performed in years past) and we discuss art and poetry (she's a poet), nutrition (she's a reiki master) and lots of other things - the drive goes fast.

Marni drops me off at my billet house. Lyall and Brenda are putting me up - Lyall works across the road and stops home to set me up for a nap downstairs. I am ridiculously tired. As soon as I lie down though, I am stalked and attacked by possibly the cutest kitten ever. "Moneypenny" is 3 months old - and a new person lying on her couch is too much to take. She climbs on my head, nuzzles in my armpit and sticks her ass in my face. Not a lot of sleep - but I will trade kitten cuteness for rest any day.

Lyall comes back from work with Brenda, his fiancee - sweet folks and very accomodating. We hang out for a while as they prep for the fest - this is their favourite weekend of the year - Lyall's been going for around 15 years and is now on the festival board.

Lyall gives me a rock star delivery to the festival in his turquoise fiat. A fiat is a tiny Italian convertible - it looks very cool, except for the fact that Lyle and I are big guys and stick out of the top of it like pop-up toys. Lyle purchased it for $200 from some guy's barn - since then he's got it working, but hasn't been able yet to fix up the extra stuff like dashboard leather cracks, small chips, and, you know... brakes.

I'm told later that fiat stands for "Failure in Automotive Technology", "Feeble Italian Attempt at Transportation" and, my favourite, "Fix It Again Tony." But aside from the fact that Lyall uses the parking brake to keep us from crashing into things, it's a sweet ride and - I have to admit - pulling into a festival to the VIP parking area in an Italian sports car is pretty cool.

The festival is in one of Brandon's parks and is a great spot, filled with trees for shade and sporting a nice amphitheatre for the mainstage. I say hi to Matt Duboff, artistic director extraordinaire, and Stacey - another board member, who billeted me last time I was in town - they've been working their asses off to put on a great festival and, now that it's about to begin, seem somehow calm and panicked at the same time. Matt introduces me to The Gruff - the band that's giving me a lift back to Winnipeg at the end of the weekend, but they're busy setting up tents.

I head up to the merch tent and drop off CDs, t-shirts, posters (a new experiment), and comic books, this time specific to the Brandon Folk Fest and featuring an activity page at the end. Everyone seems happy enough about it but it's less of a hit than at Kingfest, where it flew off the shelves.

With all my old & new friends busy setting up, I stand around not sure what to do and suddenly a bit lonely. On the road, I usually get into a solo mood by driving for hours, but between everything, I haven't really had a moment alone... until being in the middle of a music fest...

And then I run into Aphrodite, Goddess of Love. The last time I was in Brandon, I played a Halloween fundraiser for the Folk Fest - which ended in a CRAZY party in which a woman dressed as "Aphrodite, Goddess of Love" cornered me, told me I was cute and offered to show me her breasts - I narrowly escaped that night and suspected that I'd run into her here again.

Aphrodite turns out to be named Kathryn - and barely remembers that night - but remembers me enough to introduce herself - we share a good laugh over it and hang out a bit. She's much cooler when she's not rabidly hitting on me.

Later Brenda shows up and camps out, giving me another friend to hang out with. We talk about Jamaica, where she and Lyall are going to get married next year.

The music starts up with Jan Ek - an awesome reggae artist who's apparently a local legend - since he and a glam rock band were nominated for a Juno in the 80's. He does a wicked cover of "Missing" by Everything But The Girl, but my favourite is his fight-the-man tune with a chorus of "Taking all the planet - replacing it with vomit!" Best use of the word "vomit" in a song.

Francois Tremblay follows him - a francophone from Regina, Saskatchewan (who knew?) who write lovely french songs - most of which are lost on the prairie anglophones... and on my broken frenglish. Sheena Grobb follows with some sweet singer/songwriterness and then I head backstage to tune up.

I'm playing what's called a "tweener" - a short set inbetween two bands - in this case, The Errant and The Nu Phunk Orchestra - who everyone keeps talking about. It's feel like a tough act to fill in the gaps, but the audience is excellent. I've been told that Friday is pretty slow at the Fest, but everyone is surprised at the size - plus, there's a nice excitement about the festival start in the air.

"You all look beautiful," I say, "well, you all look pitch black, but earlier you looked beautiful..."

I'm a bit nervous though being in a strange city with no familiar faces - and the sound tech is too busy setting up Nu Phunk to turn down my crazy loud guitar in the monitors. And then Nu Phunk starts tuning up. It's tough being a tweener - not only are stage techs running around all over, but musicians are warming up right next to you. I had a sax solo through most of one of my songs. I play 3 tunes - I start off with "Stagefright" which feels like a mistake - it's more of an intimate listening tune than a big festival number. Then a new one, called "Where's My Jetpack" which I've only played once before and then "Seventeen" which I dedicate to Aphrodite.

I'm about to do a slow tune, to mix it up, but I'm told to wrap it up, so I play a request for an old friend, Paul, and do "Dear Aunty Emm"... with a sax solo in my ear.

Afterwards, I'm bummed. 4 songs was too short and 4 fast funny songs feels like I misrepresented myself... I get backstage, wish some Nu Phunk guys a good set, and go for a walk. Sometimes after a bad show, I don't feel like talking to anyone. I look for a pay phone but can't find one. I feel very far from home.

Getting back, I run into The Gruff, who are playing frisbee and invite me to join. And suddenly the night is great. People congratulate me on a good show and everyone LOVES jetpack. The Gruff are great folks too - we have a ball hucking the frisbee at eachother and more-than-often hitting the Brandon-TV truck, the sushi tent, and occasionally Nu Phunk dancers. Playing frisbee late into the night while an AWESOME funk band plays in the background and everyone dances is pretty great.

The band finishes and fire dancers start up. We abandon the frisbee and go to watch. A drum circle plays while people hurl flaming sticks and balls etc. around. They each take turns, putting out their keroscene soaked sticks and balls afterwards. Halfway through the keroscene spills and the stage is almost set on fire... a quick fire extinguisher puts it out and the dancing continues, but everyone's a bit freaked out.

Afterwards, I help Lyall & Paul strike the stage and we head home. I lock Ms. Moneypenny out of my room and fall asleep immediately.

==============

SATURDAY

Lyall and I wake up late, grab breakfast at "Mom's diner," and head to the fest for one-ish. My friend Paul Madryga, who I'd only known as a sound tech, is playing the first workshop - and is apparently a wicked fingerstyle guitarist and songwriter.

For those who don't know, "workshops" are really just excuses to get lots of different musicians on stage. Everyone does one song at a time - generally on a theme of some sort. I'm on the next workshop titled "Less is More: 3 Chords & The Truth." I've picked a couple tunes... some of which involve 3 chords... some a couple more... and some of them involve truth...

Also on the bill are The Gruff, who are hosting, Dan Frechette - an amazing folk musician who I played with last time I was in town, and Francois and Jan from last night. I'm pretty happy to be on stage with such amazing musicians - plus no one has any attitude - everyone's totally friendly and cool. Brandon rocks.

I play "Subway Sparrow" because I still feel like I haven't played enough slow songs. It's simple and truthful but has about 6 chords if you count little augmented passing things, which I decide not to. Everyone else plays 5 or 6 chord songs, except for Jan, who brings the average down by playing 2 chord reggae tunes - one featuring the word "vomit."

The Gruff are the only band: Phoedra, the drummer, straps a snare on and stands playing a kick drum. Terri plays upright bass, Jenny guitar, and Adam fiddle. Very sweet folk tunes with beautiful vocals. They introduce everyone, but no one introduces them, so I do: "The Gruff are nicely giving me a lift to Winnipeg tomorrow night... they're also lousy frisbee players."

I also admit that I'm a lousy frisbee player, but it's too late - my frisbee skill bashing becomes a running joke between us for the rest of the weekend.

My second, and last song, I do Jet Pack, which some folks requested (apparently people liked it the night before) AND it actually features only 3 chords... and truth - I do want a jetpack! Anyway, it goes over nicely - everyone sings along, chanting "Where's My Jetpack?! Where's My Jetpack?!" "Get Angry!" I yell. They do.

A good good workshop. I wander happily over to the Beatles Sing Along which I'm apparently featured on next... I found out I was featured on it about 4 days before the festival and therefore know exactly 4 Beatles Songs. This has stressed me out for 4 days and I have listened to the White Album non-stop hoping that it will sink into my fingers in some airborne osmosis process.

Fortunately, the sing along is totally informal - and fortunately for all of us, it's lead by Dan Frechette, who knows EVERY song the Beatles every wrote and many they didn't. Dan has a gigantic book of Beatles tunes and we all gather around him sitting on a picnic table - and then around us the audience gathers - and everyone sings and everyone plays - and it's very folky and awesome. I lead one round of Hard Day's Night, but eventually give into Dan's crazy unstoppable Beatles knowledge.

3 hours later, Dan is still going. Like some of the audience, I need a Beatles break, so I wander back to the mainstage. I'm not playing tonight so I just get to hang out.

I catch two Tegan & Sarah-esque sisters named Katy & Jessica Slimmon who are clearly new to the game, but have lovely voices. Serena Postal does a sweet set and then Dale Willis, an amazing guitarist from Australia, plays one of the best tweeners - doing bizarre percussive guitar slapping. Following Dale, the Dusty Roads band plays some great rock - most impressive is their keyboardists, Jeremy, who is (A) blind and (B) plays 23 instruments, can tune a mandolin while playing a keyboard, and is clearly a music-wunderkind. We all stare dumbfounded at him from the side of the stage.

The Gruff follows with a beautiful set - I take some pictures for them and then get up with a group of dancers and we start the dance party that the rest of the night becomes. Behind the band, the sun sets wonderfully and the festival descends into darkness. A friend of the Gruff, Romi Mayes plays and then the Plaid Tongued Devils, a crazed satanic punk klezmer band kicks it up. I dance with Terry from the Gruff, Dan Frechette, and a crazy happy audience.

Saturday night is PARTY NIGHT at the Brandon Folk Fest. A lovely guy named Dave invites everyone back to his traditional Saturday bash in his gigantic clearing by the river, where torches lead us to a bonfire of partiers and jamming musicians. We all stop at a "vendor" which is apparently what beer stores are called in Manitoba (confusing for us Ontarians who crazily call them "beer stores"). I share my Keith's bottles with the Gruff & Lyall. We try to cook smores but can't get the marshmallows to melt properly. Phoedra and Terri bring out their drum and upright bass and take over the jam - Jeremy from the Dusty Roads band plays mandolin - and tons of other musicians rock out. I play Lost Together, Caroline, and of course, the nicely requested Jetpack, which everyone sings along to - becoming an unofficial Festival anthem in my mind.

Beers later, I have decided I am an upright bass player.

I actually don't remember how we get home...

==============


SUNDAY

Sunday morning (er... afternoon... felt like morning...), Q has returned.

Q is Lyall & Brenda's other cat. A grey tabby, Q goes out for 5 days at a time, having adventures and then comes back to sleep. I wake up early and watch him sacked out in the living room as tiny Moneypenny excitedly attacks him. (*Lyall, as you may have noticed has a James Bond obsession).

Eventually Lyall is up and we are ready to head out... at which point we realize that Brenda is gone with her car the fiat is still at the Fest. Luckily Lyall's dad is available to swing us round in his minivan (which features brakes).

We get there in time for lunch - the food backstage is amazing the whole weekend - Indian, Buffalo burgers, and a chicken dish that's to die for. There are at least 8 volunteers who cook the whole weekend for us, make conversation with hungover musicians, and are lovely.

I arrive to catch Dave from last night asking for fruit with the tune to Jetpack - "Where's my Orange?! Where's my Orange?!" he sings. That makes me pretty happy.

I catch another local showcase, featuring Kerri Woelke, who was great. Then, a workshop that I wasn't involved with, but really wanted to be - IMPROV 101.

Ever since taking some Second City improv courses in Toronto, I've been trying to incorporate improv and music - and occasionally you'll find a show where I'll make up songs on the spot - some are train wrecks, but some are worth remembering - and the audience gets a kick out of seeing live songwriting.... anyway, I was a little dissapointed by the jam workshop, where everyone - brilliant musicians - made up a live improv tune. It's great - don't get me wrong - but I was hoping they'd add vocals... maybe next year.

After that, I'm back on stage for the "Lovers Lost & Scorned - The Less-Than-Successful Love Song" workshop, featuring The Gruff, The Fugitives, Kate Ferris, and Heather Blush. When I found out about this workshop I wondered at first if we were supposed to play "Unsuccessful love songs" - songs that we'd tried before and they just sucked...

The Gruff have nominated me to host the workshop, which I start off on a greeeeeat note by introducing each act and asking them "how late were you up last night" and "how drunk were you?"

Fortunately, everyone plays great tunes. The Gruff does more fun pretty folk - The Fugitives do amazing spoken word mixed with songs - very fun! Heather Blush and Kate Ferris do hiliarious heartache tunes. People want me to play Jetpack again but I explain that this is a love song workshop and Jetpack is about... jetpacks. Some people try to convince me that it's about my love for a jetpack, but I hold firm. Instead, I ask the Gruff to back me up on Caroline, which for some reason I think is easy to follow - which is totally not (sorry, guys!). To make up for that, I ask them to back me up for Guilt Trip Song, which is just four chords.

Earlier I asked Matt if it was okay for me to swear at the folk fest and he said it was okay with him, so I cut loose - winning over half the audience and alienating the other half. Oh well...

Backstage, Aphrodite introduces me to her daughter - to prove that even though she's a bit strange, she can produce a very cool kid.

The Gruff has to leave immediately, so we rush to the merch tent, sign some CDs, run to the food tent and wolf down food, and then pile into The Gruff's van - which is packed with instruments, bags, and now, very hot musicians...

But the trip is lovely. What's been great about this festival is how many nice musicians I've met and The Gruff are some of the best. I hang out in the back with Adam, talking music and trying not to move much. I panic a bit when I can't find the directions, but then find them in my jacket which I abandoned as soon as I got off the airplane and realized Manitoba was hotter than hell. The trip goes quick - at the turnoff to Winnipeg, Phoedra says, "Last chance to come with us" and I'm tempted to keep touring...

We get lost in Winnipeg a bit (my fault), cool down with Slurpees, and leave with hugs.

I'm staying with Roz, the mother of a friend of my mother and upon arrival, she invites me to her son's birthday party. Her family is apparently numerous - and filled with nice music-appreciating folks. We leave their air-conditioned home and drive over in their air-conditioned car - I am in heaven.

Dinner is great - really nice people - and afterwards they ask me to share some of my songs. And then we sing traditional tunes. Roz's son Michael teaches me Bruce Cockburn tunes and we sing The Band's The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down. It's a sweet way to end a wonderful weekend and for a while I forget how tired I am.

at 4 in the morning I get up and cab it over to the airport. I'm very tired but very happy. Awesome awesome awesome weekend.

Back home, I log onto myspace & facebook to find lots of nice "have you seen a jetpack?" jokes.