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Noof photo of the Day - Rick Neufeld, a remarkable individual, with a keen eye.


21 02 2012

Greetings Humans. Fish will be 60 in March, and we re celebrating at the West Van Masonic Hall, where Leigh and he (Jim Salmon) were wed lo these many moons ago. We party on Sunday, March 18th, as most of his 'hood are players, thus working Fridays and Saturdays.

Brenda McGillveray is off to Peru in March. Recently diagnosed with terminal leukemia, she and daughter Ellen are off to Machu Pichu, a trip she is determined to enjoy: one strong, sweet woman.

My scar, from a tumble off the ladder, is healing up, thanks to some Bio-Oil Kathleen purchased for me. The odd whizzing light is adorning my port-side peripheral vision, alarming at night, when it's brighter than any ambient lighting. My brain took a hit, now it's gradually showing up in symptoms.


Gidday on January 22nd.

I'm in Vaughn, north of Toronto, warming up for night Four of Four at Hugh's Room, in the 10th annual tribute to Gordon Lightfoot's songs and music. It is a fine blend of players, diverse approaches to songs being the norm, and sold out all four nights.

I am concerned about Canada's image abroad. The present government portrays our country as they would have it, rather than reflecting the empathy and passion that fuels our civil society. Harper needs to play more hockey, get hit a bit, learn some team skills.

June 22, 2011, 1:35PM

I picked Graham Wardrop up at the Vancouver airport yesterday. He's a skilled guitarist/singer/songwriter from Christchurch, NZ

"I had to go, get away for a spell," the tired passenger commented to an interviewer, editor of the Pentricton Herald James Miller.

And I'm tickled to play music with him.

Saltspring Island, BC, Sun., May 29, "Farmers' Institute's Historic Land Usage Deal" I play at wallpaper level w/ Gary, which is essentially a disguised rehearsal. Cool to be there for such a neat swap, which took six years and resulted in a whack of utilized farmland becoming the responsibility of the Farm Trust Alliance, in exchange for a variation in residential zoning of the developer's holding. Food! Grown here!


June 7, 2011

Does the age you'll be this year plus your birth year come to 111?


After digging through boxes of yet-to-be-sorted might-be-important papers, revealing discard paper sorted from previous boxes, I kindled a fire with said papers, revealing as much rug as possible, then took the dogs to beach and me to Rock Salt, formerly Tree House South, and Nan's before that.

The trick now is to try and hack my tax spreadsheets to reflect four distinct taxation zones in Canada. Hopefully new macros will suffice, with a few re-jigged formulae. I will report on this down the road.

It's not just the intoxicants that are the root of this blossoming chaos, but the scheduling of my time. Continually, for over thirty-nine, I have navigated roads, airports, tracks and airports, and, not entirely without cause although occasionally wandering, have followed an agenda, skillfully laid out in by those-that-lay-out-agendas: audience, presenters, travel agents, booking agencies.

So, I am at the helm, I must accept that, and consider the route rather than the tack.

It's all about performance, from federal political representatives through to junkyard dogs. Our value is in performing a desired, sought-after, effective service; we are all selling our own stuff. What do I enjoy doing that can provide sustainability? In clearer terms, where's my revenue?

This on a personal scale: Kathleen and I share property with three dogs, and a number of deer, raccoons, near-feral cats, the list goes on. From order, we will evolve, and what a home we'll have.



Saturday, May 22, 2011.


We lost a friend/wife/sister/mother/granny/greatgranny in Barb Patterson Friday night;

I lost my friend of thirty-nine years. Barb did "good" for everyone.

Our thoughts are with you, Gord and family. We'll all love her in her absence.




Wed., May 4th.,

Recycling won the election, political recycling, reusing Stephen Harper's wish list, and watch how quick those debates will be.


Sorry to yell, but hey, that's history made, and now we have a champion, a flag carrier, a presence in the halls of power; not a stifled, partisan voice but a confident, compassionate voice that reflects all parties. We all have families, neices or nephews, cousins or children, who are the winners in this election, as we are one step closer, a small step, but a step closer to proper stewardship of our planet.


Noof gave me this idea: Rick Neufeld, a remarkable individual, with a keen eye.


 Blog -Archive

January 31st, 2009


/ , that's it for / January / , don't hold your / Breath for spring.

/ , i read (REED) a-/Nother snowall

/Then six weeks of ra-/In and that's all.


Dec. 3, at the Sylvia Hotel lobby in Vancouver. Just got an e-mail with this interesting statistic in it:

>> The Conservative (read "neoReform) party received 5,205,334 votes in the October election.

>> There were 13,832,972 votes cast, from 23,401,064 registered voters.

>> The (neo)Conservatives received 37.6% of the vote, 22% of votes from registered voters.

It seems that Stephen Harper does not have enough representation among Canadians to effect the far-right agenda he has sworn to impose, nor has he the wit, or adequately-cabable handlers, to see that there is a favourable political wind blowing, and that he should heed this wind before voiding.

This short-sighted activity has led our parliamentary system into seldom-used avenues, and we as a nation generally don't like the unknown or the unproven as much as the staus quo. What better way, say I, to initiate a change in attitude that is essential for all of us , as we begin to deal with the major adjustments that are being forced upon us by climate.

A boom economy is contingent on sudden growth. It is never, nor has it ever been, sustainable. Alberta is digging up and selling off its oil reserves. British Columbia is selling its gaseous and mineral wealth. Saskatchewan is selling its boxite and uranium. Ontario has sold the bulk of its resources and is now essentially a manufacturing province, which is in competition with Denmark and China


America approached a turning point in history: noteworthy, a populist potentate, an irrespressible voice for justice.

Come on America, Obama's the Leader, I'ld have chosen him if I were American in 2008.

Jet lag is being studied here; in from New Zealand Wednesday, I'm observing what sleep I need and how my shows are affected by that.


Sept. 08

I just found these notes I made,

prior to joining work with some noted songwriters

in Sherbrooke Historic Village this past July,

en route to Stanfest.


Thursday AM 9:30 > 10:15 - Group Session w/ Me at the Courthouse

"The Moral Imperative: Use Time Well"


Whether I speak of your time or mine,

a song must have enough resonance and/or relevance in it

to honour the attention being given to it.


... you're all looking at me ... what's the point? you may query...

... I have your attention, now I must make good use of it ...

... a poignant story ... a vigorous back beat ballad ... weirdness ...


The moral imperative, in my mind, is just this: the appropriate

use of attention being paid. The didactic principle applies here.


September, 2008


From Active Pass, flushing into the Salish Sea itSelf.

Like the millions of litres per minute pushing in from the Pacific,

I am giving momentum to a forty-year career, off to a gig in Ladner, BC,

fresh from the Vancouver Island Music Workshop (VIMW), bristling

with licks and writing techniques, sated with superb cuisine and new pals.


"There might be a buck in this kids' music," I heard an associate proclaim

in 1974, in Winnipeg, in the north fire exit of the Fort Garry Hotel.

I proffer the same assersion for a rock-a-billy jag, and will pursue it.


Gary Fjellgaard, the poster boy for all us road warriors, awaits me in Ladner, BC,

where we'll play the Genesis Theatre ce soir (this evening). Gary took up

mandolin in his late sixties, and is now writing and perfoming on it.


24 August 2008 - All the speaker cable is going speakon;

somewhere a really good salesman or her team

convinced the industry to move in a professional direction.


MIDI did the same thing. Most instruments can now read, utilize and send

universal signals, which from a brand manufacturer's view sucks,

no longer able to sell brand-specific add-ons, and for the public

it's a godsend, allowing us to patch Roland, Zoom, Yamaha, Mackie

and what-have-you together in a productive chain.


Speakon cable-ends don't ascend to that collective satisfaction,

as most of us have a variety of old gear cobbled together,

using mono phone jacks, tip-ring-sleeve balanced phone jacks

and male XLR balanced jacks, with a kilogram of adaptors

for those bad days whaen cables go down.


Recently I used an efficient wireless MIDI connector in session,

inputting an old DX7 into Pro Tools, which raises the possibility

of transmitting wireless outs from the board to powered front-of-house

and powered monitors. If I can think of it, it's probably been available

in the market for a while.


Speakon connectors don't disconnect when tripped on; they'ld likely

pull the whole cabinet over, which brings me to my "Tip of the Day."


Many sound techs haul over the send cable, plug it in, and jack the speaker up.

Before finishing sound check, I'll ask if I can wrap that cable up the stand

before jacking in, so if someone trips on that cable, and they do that often,

it'll pull from the base of the stand, not from up at the speaker. Even light

weight enclosures will crush guitars and legs falling from up there,

so imagine a powered speaker taking a tumble.


Have a safe one.

Written on the ferry, coming home from a gig w/ Gary Fjellgaard in Coquitlam, BC


 August First: Rabbits, Rabbits, Rabbits. - Greetings from this enchanted land. Haida Gwaii.

I'll be home in September paying attention to songwriters, ideas presented,

and markets for the creativity entrusted in me.

Finding comes from seeking, sometimes I have to

buy the bus-fare before I enjoy the ride.

There are bugs here.

We don't have many at home, doors open, the odd fly, but not here,

this is like Ontario or Manitoba, only smaller flies. And they're loud.

I walk out of this unit into a meadow behind, and there's a wall of sound,

very faint, I wouldn't hear if there was a car on the road within range,

top-end clicks and whirls and a whole spectrum of excitement, all from bugs.


There is a workshop on songwriting Sept. 5/6/7 near Parksville, google VIMW.

I'm teaching a couple of courses, and there are some marvellous instructors,

each with strengths and passions, folks I'ld pay to study with.


Gary Fjellgaard arrives tomorrow for a show here Sunday, the Tlell Fall Fair,

on August Third!! This has got to be Canada's earliest fall fair, and this year,

a new stage has been finished, and will be inaugurated this Sunday, although

I may sneak up there tonight and tomorrow, and play a set to no-one, just to

be the first to pour music o'er the lip, and tune this new puppie a bit.

A guitar evolves with the sound registering within it, and perhaps so too a shell,

and although linear, this is a projecting stage. Over the years deflectors may be

designed and hung to enhance the delivery, but this is a good starting place.

Finally, I'm starting this blog, for THE specific purpose of stirring up a fine stew,

Here I am, a guitar instructor again!! I just did a 2.5 hour guitar accompaniment workshop. Needless to say, I was nervous: talked too fast, skipped around topic to topic, knew what I wanted to impart, unschooled at providing it to the participants. We all grooved a bit, jammed a bit, and I hope some skills were tweeked by my examples and demonstrations, but nervous? Whew.

Off to St. John's tomorrow, doing a tune with a whack of golfers, Jim Payne and Ferus O'Byrne.

100th anniversary of the Bamfield Lifeboat Station takes place June 14, 15 and 16. I'm excited about going up the Alberni Canal in an inflatable, rather than on the dreaded logging roads. I play Saturday, Community Hall, and will attend as many presentations as I can:: living history.

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