Miles and Miles To Go

There are many modes of thought that happen when you drive over 9,000 km by yourself. The music goes by the wayside for hours at a time as I ponder past things, current worries and future prospects. Sometimes I find myself rambling out lyrics to songs I haven’t written yet, or pondering the plight of Pluto and the insignificance of our definition of the darling little rock. Pluto does what it does, regardless of how we define it – what a badass, and how nice for it to be beyond the influence of human beings. Current events are heavy on the mind these days, and I am ever glad to be in a time and place where I can show appreciation for and hopefully further music as an art form, and meet like minded people along the way. It is not a lucrative career choice, by any means. It requires a thick skin but a tender heart, which can be a difficult balance to maintain. It requires maintenance of peace and clarity of mind through harrowing and uncomfortable experiences, and it requires an insane amount of energy. And I love it.

I have been criss-crossing the minor and major highways of Canada for six weeks now, and tomorrow will be my twentieth show, in Maitland, Nova Scotia. There was something very freeing about hitting the New Brunswick border the day before last. Like it was the beginning of a new chapter on this tour.

Flo seems to be holding up well, despite having almost lost her tailpipe on the bumpy streets of Peterborough, Ontario. She is a comfortable and sturdy steed, and my hope is that if I treat her with care, she’ll let me take her another eight or ten thousand kilometres back to BC. She is loved by the locals of the places that I play, and people seem to appreciate the delicate nuttiness that is involved with wrangling such a machine down the narrow, twisted, half-dirt highways of rural New Brunswick, or through the slam-into-your-side crosswinds of Manitoba on the Trans-Canada.

I do miss my friends and family back home, but find great reward in all the new friends I’ve made along the way. The kindness of strangers is alive and well in Canada, whether it’s a family inviting me to their home for a full on eggs-and-bacon breakfast, or another band hooking me up with contacts for more gigs and a good place to park for the night. The assholes really are few and far in between.

This next leg of the tour will be interesting and ever challenging, as my bank account dwindles and Flo demands her next meal. I embrace the challenges and look forward to what tomorrow brings.