Matchstick Mike and I- looking better than we ought to after an evening of playing and hanging out. It was great to see Mike again, and even better to hear him play. I think we'll be doing this again. Mike is a real "gentleman guitar player," in spite of his over the top reputation. We sounded really good and had fun. Now I'm going to drive for five hours... and Mike will be going back to bed for a nap!
A pleasant drive down past Moncton, over the great gas divide, into Nova Scotia. The first view of the province is now marred, or enhanced, by a skyline of giant props. I understand this windswept flatland is a practical place to build something like this- but I'm not sure it's the welcome I want as I roll in from away.
I usually stop here and stretch my bones. I think I've heard pipers here in the past. Today, I roar by in the Lincoln. I've got to make my gig in Hubbards. I'm not in a big rush, but I don't have time to spare, either.
Wilma and her brilliant staff feed me well, fill my wineglass with local red, and help me set up. It's a good sounding room. A few folks come out from Halifax- not as many as I might hope for, but enough for a comfortable little show. I play really well. Some nights are just like that. I hear it all, I tell some stories. It's good to be back in Nova Scotia.
After the show the staff go dancing at the Oceanside. I decline. Tonight I sleep. Lotta shows between now and Christmas time.
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