[note: last night I got halfway through this blog and then clicked some button on the fancy mouse in the internet place which deleted everything... sigh....]

The road to Thunder Bay isn't as pretty as the one to Wawa - the tamarack trees recede and the fur trees get thin and sharp into ragged asparagus spears, grasping for footholds on rock outcrops. In between leafless trees provide a grey/purple colour that pales next to the colours from yesterday.

The snow from this morning melts quickly and the sun comes out. My winter fears are stored away for another day.

But the time goes quickly and soon I'm there, getting lost (a common theme to come for Thunder Bay), but eventually hitting Bruce and Marion's house. They're parents of my friend Heather and are lovely. I arrive just in time for dinner and am very well fed. I also meet Michael, Heather's brother, who is remarkably quiet, but very nice - I feel like a chatterbox next to him - maybe it's all the quiet from driving, but I feel the need to tell all my stories the minute I meet people... I'm offered either the couch in the living room of the "Iguana Room" - named after Susan the 3 foot long Iguana and former-pet of Heather. Susan sleeps above the bed and has apparently only fallen on it once, during an earthquake.... I choose to bunk with her, but move the pillows to the other side, in case of techtonic disturbances.

Then I head over to the Study, a bar/coffeehouse at Lakehead U. I hum "I wish I could go back to college" from Avenue Q as I pass the arcade and the hard-workin' students. I nicely kick some girls off my stage and set up. It's not fancy, but the sound system sounds great and the atmosphere, while plain, is pleasant and I kind of like being pretty background music for studying to. My voice feels fantastic - so nice after worrying about it last night - and everyone claps and listens with a calm interest that's charming and sweet. The nicely-kicked-off girls laugh at my jokes. I play for two hours, running the gamut of covers I know and finding some new ones that I'd forgotten about. Regardless of the small crowd, this is my favourite show of the tour so far. The only painful point is when Bruce and Marion arrive in the middle of Guilt Trip Song - the worst song in the world to arrive in the middle of, with no context - I implore the crowd to tell them that the rest of the songs weren't like that, and they happilly inform them that I've been swearing all night. Thanks a lot, guys.

Afterwards, a bunch of folks buy CDs and tell me about the Apollo, my gig the next night. Apparently it's a hardcore/metal club... a bunch of them agree to come out and be my posse...

I get home, check for Iguana's in my bed, and fall asleep reading a borrowed copy of V for Vendetta.

The next day, I wake up late and have a bath (the shower is leaking, so bath is my option). I haven't shaved in a day or two and have a stylin' five oclock shadow thing going on. In a day or two it will evolve into a bad-idea beard, for now it's cool.

Marion and Bruce take me out to the HOITO restaurant - a famous local Finnish place where I get famous local Finnish pancakes - yummy! HOITO means "care" in Finnish - the place was originally set up to provide cheap, yummy meals to Finnish workers in the blossoming lumber industry there. I also learn that Thunder Bay wasn't orginally called Thunder Bay - back in 1970, they amalgamated two towns into one and Thunder Bay was voted on as the new name. Across the body of water also called Thunder Bay, M&B point out "the sleeping giant" - a penninsula that looks like a reclined body on the far bank.

Then we head to Fort William - an old NorthWest company trading post - for a quick tour. Really interesting from both a historical perspective (indian/trader relations and traditions, horrific doctor tools (a "mechanical leech"), and how to build canoes...) and a museum perspective (many of the furs come from roadkill along the road - maybe that's why I haven't seen much). The tour ends at the farm section and I get some sloppy licks from a lovely cow.

I rush over to Lakehead U.'s radio station. Oye-Sem, the very nice manager at the Study pulled a favour to get me on to Jenn's Bent, a folksy show. Dave, filling in for Jenn, interviews me, asks me to play a couple tunes (Seventeen and Subway Sparrow) and plays Alright from the album. Then I get asked Dave's "dating questions" including (1) do I like girls, boys, or girls & boys [I like girls... but am married], (2) what's my favourite morning alchoholic beverage [ummm... beer? but only if I'm still awake from the night before - otherwise, generally I'm not a morning drinker...] and (3) what's my favourite muppet story [when Elmo came into the studio, screwed up his lines, and started swearing... you had to be there...].

I leave and try to pack in too many errands, getting gas, groceries, etc. and arrive just in time (again) for dinner with Marion and Bruce and Michael.

After dinner, I was up as they head out to Badminton, and then I boot it over to the bar, getting lost on the way, and arriving just in time to find... absolutely nothing going on. Apparently I was an hour early and had some time to kill. I read Exclaim magazine, which has not reviewed my album yet, and get a bit depressed.

Finally my opener and the sound guy shows up. There's about 5 people in the bar - definitely not a great crowd, but not the end of the world. My opener, a local singer/songwriter, puts a stop to that though by performing one of the stranger spoken word/religious/anti-religious/Johnny Carson-themed (really) sets I've ever seen. He started by singing that "everything would be alright, because Jesus Christ would save you." By the time he finished, the 5 people had left.

Luckily, Oye from the Study showed up and so did Bruce, Marion and Michael. I played a very short set for them and the nice folks at the Apollo (I played Stagefright - "what if we put on a show and nobody came" for them) and then pulled the plug. Russ, the sound guy, called it "ear candy" and everyone was nice. Oye was very cool too - hopefully we'll set up a bigger show at the Study soon. Afterwards, I hung out with Sheila, the owner of the Apollo (which used to be a restaurant owned by her family) - we despaired over the state of the music industry, and talked astrology (she was very excited that I shared a birthday with Elvis and Bowie and said I was the most easy going guy to set up a show with). And then she offered me two fantastic jackets - a warm down winter one and a sweet leather one. Very nice.

It's hard for bar managers and artists to pull a crowd these days - especially on a Tuesday night. But there used to be a time when going to see live music was a viable entertainment option 7 days a week - in any town. When did that change? I can't pretend not to be part of it, but Sheila and Oye and I all share the same problem - how do you make going out in this Country's cold winters to see an artist that you've never heard of?

I return very late and make too much noise coming in the door.

The next morning, I get to really spend some time with Susan, my roomate, who gives me a lick, seeming to accept me (in my mind at least). I give her some scratching and then wash my hands to avoid salmonella, which iguana's can carry. Bruce returns with some "persians" another local delicacy - basically cinnamon rolls with strawberry cream on top - not as groundbreaking as I expected, but delicious.

Thank you SO much to Bruce and Marion (& Michael and Susan) for their warm generosity and hospitality. I am a lucky musician to have such wonderful hosts. I leave promising to keep in touch and they buy a CD, refusing a free one.