Between The Rock And A Hard Place: Newfoundland, Great Big Sea, Alan Doyle, And Even Russell Crowe

"When Every Year We Hear The Birds Of Summer Sing" Part One - Spinning The Story Threads Of A GBS Show (Asheville Orange Peel Photos)

Asheville, in my own microcosmic subjectivity. (Alan Doyle, Run, Runaway Singalongs)

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One of my very first journalism assignments was to cover the weekly meetings of a local elected council; when in my rookie enthusiasm I asked the reporter who had this beat before me what I needed to know to do a good job, his advice was drinking a large cup of strong coffee before each meeting and picking up a copy of the minutes afterwards for transcribing word-for-word into my story, since that's all he ever wrote about the meetings. When he went to the meetings. At times, he confessed, he just came by after to pick up the minutes and wrote it up from those.

Not the sort of advice that sits well with rookie enthusiasm, even less so when I scoured back issues and found that, sure enough, his prior stories were each and all the same: A brief paragraph of summary, then a long list of council actions that read, not surprisingly, like meeting minutes. Thinking perhaps that story length might have been a limiting factor (size always matters in journalism), I went to my News Editor and asked him if there was space for a longer council story than had been the norm. He raised a sardonic eyebrow and me and told me I had as much space as I thought the story required. I was so green I missed the subtext of that comment.

I went to my first council meeting that week, and I found it fascinating in a very weird way, in a stuff and nonsense sort of way. The stuff of what was going on - agenda item after agenda item coming up in relentless succession, each being perfunctorily discussed for a few minutes then summarily voted on before moving on to the next - was indeed mind-numbing, worthy in and of itself of creating the need for a strong caffeine fix. But the nonsense of what was going on - the personal dynamics of the council members as they went through the paces of their usual weekly routine -  immediately caught my interest.

One council member openly slept through most of the meeting, his burbling snore heard quite clearly during conversational lulls. This was obviously a normal state of affairs - each time it came time to vote, the member to his left would elbow the sleeper awake, and the now-awakened one would blearily vote "No". To every single item. Then he drifted straight back off to sleep again eachtime. Not a one of the rest of them seemed to think there was anything odd about this; it had the appearance of a long-standing circumstance (which, I would discover at subsequent meetings, it most certainly was).

Two other council members were clearly steadfast allies and even more clearly steadfast opponents of the beleaguered and somewhat bumbling council president. The two comrades would agree with each other on cue - a perfectly timed duet of mutual support - and they attacked as a duo as well, sometimes with utter and vituperative scorn, directing insults toward the other members, even casting aspersions on the spouses and children of the other members. The fifth member was idealism's masochist, throwing himself diligently into every fray, diligently arguing the merits and demerits of each agenda item. And being mostly ignored by the others, all of whom would roll their eyes and take turns making motions to end the solo debate and vote on the matter, provoking yet another exasperated sigh from the diligent one.  Again, the reactions of all the members gave the distinct impression that this was all part of the same dance that took place every week (and again, time would show me that it was).

I looked around the empty council chambers within which I was the only spectator at a meeting that was open to any member of the public, to any person who had cast a vote for or against the members now behaving in such a fascinatingly foolish manner. I thought about how I'd sure be interested in hearing about how my elected representatives went about governing my affairs.

So I went back and wrote it all, being careful to start my start my story with the expected summary paragraph. In good "cut from the bottom" journalism style, I put the usual minutes-summary next. Then I added several paragraphs of description, written as best and as descriptively as I possibly could within the alloted time, about how the council members had gone about dealing with all those listed agenda items. I took a deep breath, handed my story over, and crossed my fingers.

The next day, the paper came out and there was my story, intro paragraph and minutes-summary only, all the rest edited into oblivion. I took my wounded pride into the News Editor's office and asked him what I'd done wrong. He told me what I'd written was great, that he'd loved reading it, but that the subscribers of this paper were the kind of folks who don't want to know what fools they had elected; what these readers wanted to hear was that their duly elected officials were hard at work and they wanted to see a tangible summary of that hard work. He said I'd told an excellent story - and a true story as well - but it wasn't the story this audience wanted to hear. This audience wanted the other story - also true in its own way, he pointed out, sardonic eyebrow dancing once again - told by the final, edited version of what I'd written.

I was young, I was naive, I was idealistic. Truth be told, I suppose I was somewhat stunned. "But it's only a partial truth!" I sputtered back at him. "It doesn't show how things came about. It doesn't show the context of what happened."

He shook his head and sighed, not unkindly but with some exasperation. I could see him trying to keep his dancing eyebrow on the straight and level. And then he taught me something more valuable than anything I'd ever learned in Journalism 101: "People, most people, don't want context. They don't want to know how or why something happened. What they want to know is what happened and what they want even more is for what happened to be the way they think it should have happened. Your job is to tell them what happened and make them think it happened the way they wanted it to happen. That's what they want from you and what they expect from you, whether they admit it or even know it; that's the way they want you to spin if even if  they call that spin "Reality". If you want to write about the whole truth and context and causes, you've got to find people who want to hear about those things because that's how they want things to be spun in their version of reality. "

Yeah, I wrote down what he said at the time, diligent little journalist that I once was. And I kept those words, decent writer that I hope one day to be. After quite a long time had passed, I even came to understand what those words were saying.

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We all - except perhaps for the most doggedly literal among us - indulge in the fine art of Spin, most often the self-serving version of that art, and occasionally the result of considerate kindness for others. Remember the first time you told your mother about something you did that you know you weren't supposed to do, but in telling her you managed to make your part in the illicit activity sound way less significant than it really was? Spin. The thoughtfully approving essay you wrote about the novel you detested but that your professor thought the greatest-ever work of literature in the history of mankind?  Spin.  The "You look great in that colour!" response to your friend's question about how she looks in a horribly ill-fitting dress? Spin.

For some people in some professions - any endeavour with an audience, an audience of one or dozens or thousands, be it stage performers or writers or politicians or sales people - dealing with Spin, the persuading-others version of the art, becomes a part of their daily life, no matter whether they want it to or not, no matter whether that connection is a conscious choosing of or a stubborn rejection against.

And Spin goes beyond words - spoken or written. As familiar as I've subsequently become with Word-Spin over the years, it's only been recently that I am beginning to understand how photography can be used to shape perception, not only in the obvious ways of such alterations to reality as air-brushing and digitally enhancing (or crude and all-too-often tacky amateur efforts at photoshopping) but also in terms of selection and emphasis. One secret to Spin is to be found in playing fast and loose with context: Everything you say or write or show can be absolutely true, but by choosing to say/'write/show only certain things - even by choosing to put a focus on only certain things - you can take those things out of their original context and create a perception considerably removed from the actual event in question. Sometimes that's done deliberately - spin intentionally directed outward for the purpose of persuasion - and sometimes it might be done less consciously, yet another version of self-serving spin, this time a wish-fulfillment attempt to restructure reality along preferred lines.

Though some will say there is no "reality" per se, that all that exists is indvidual perception. No greater significances, only isolated and manipulable subjectivity, an infinite number of stories, each as fundamentally meaningful (and meaningless) as the other. Those are the people who say anyone is a fool for trying to understand such nonexistent things as larger truths and context and causes, even more of a fool for trying to weave those threads of individual perceptions into a bigger story. 

Then there are the ones who chastise those of us who resort to "scrutiny" and "documentation" in our hope for a clearer understanding, some saying such efforts interfere with their own need for an emotional response "unfettered" by examination, that thinking about it spoils the happy fun of their simple story. Others object apparently out of concern for what such scrutiny and documentation might possibly reveal, a worried reluctance to know where such understanding could lead, perhaps even a deeply-rooted pessimism about what story-threads could be spun and what tale woven from the vantage point of that understanding.

Welcome to the World Of Great Big Sea, a place I find terrible wonderful, a place of inspiration and determination and occasional heartbreak, a place of awe and anger, frustrating disappointment and abiding affection. For others, it's their Happy Fun Place Of Escape. To each the story they most want to hear, and to each the spin that sends them in their chosen direction.

On with The Story - with The Stories - Of The Asheville Show.

I've seen many day-after-the-show newspaper stories about Great Big Sea. It's usually a short blurb about how much fun the show was and that blurb is usually accompanied by a solitary photo, a photo that is invariably one of Alan either pouring it on with fierce intensity or smiling with beatific satisfaction. A photo that leaves a lasting impression/perception of what that show was like, an impression/perception that is absolutely true in that the photograph documents a genuine show moment and absolutely consistent with what I'd venture to guess most readers want to believe all GBS shows are like.

Kind of like these genuine show moments from the Asheville Orange Peel show:

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Or maybe, just once, an isolated and non-contextual Genuine Moment with Sean might be the summarising photo of choice:

Sean McCann

All four moments are certainly true: Alan's When I'm Up was intensely powerful and his Captain Kidd charmingly persuasive; Sean's Sweet Forget Me Not was touchingly tender. But none of these four photos comes close to approaching a summary or encapsulation of what the Asheville show was like overall, or at least the impression and effect of that show on me. The single photo I began this entry with comes closer to that impression and effect, though even it still falls short of what I saw as being a complicated show. If I'd come across a post-Asheville-show paper with any such photo as one of these latter four and the usual "it was lots of fun" blurb, I'd be none the wiser about what had actually taken place at the Orange Peel that evening, although for some it might be that what I read and saw could have made me feel as if I'd been told that things had gone the way I thought they should go, perhaps telling some people exactly the story they most want to hear.

Then there's how fans display show photos (including myself in this since I've done some of this too). The photo albums on various sites (Photobucket, Image Shack, Flickr, etc., and of course blogs as well) can sometimes be interesting and even informative, at least when the photos are of decent quality, since they can give some clue of the larger sequence of events during a show, though I've learned from my own experience that even the most carefully crafted and thoroughly contextualised set of show photos can be (and likely will be) quickly unravelled into individual, isolated pictures in subsequent Image searches, photo saving, and website postings.

Next are the photoessays/photo threads that use specific photos to establish a particular point of view - what kind of show the photographer thought it was and/or how dancey/dreamy/desirable one or more band members was that night. This option seems to be when context is at its most dispensable, since individual "droolworthy" photos wind up being saved by admirers of a given individual and/or posted in separate Hot Photos Of My Favourite Band Member threads, thus removing the photo from much if any sense of which song was being performed where or with whom under what circumstances. Yet another story winds up being told in that approach.

The story told by the fan who wants the focus to be on her own dreamy most-preferred fellow to those seeking a drool-and-thud-emoticon-inducing tale might include such photos as these Asheville shots:

Alan Doyle

Sean McCann

Bob Hallett

Murray Foster

Alan Doyle

Sean McCann

Kris MacFarlane

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle & Sean McCann (And because context is always going to matter to me: Consequence Free, 2 John Barbours, Gideon Brown, and 5 Living-Room Sea Of No Cares, respectively.)

Those who instead want to tell - as well as those who expect to hear - the They Were All Smiley/Dancey And Having Great Fun At The Show Where There's No Other Place They'd Rather Be Instead story might very well go with these Asheville photos (and use your imagination to pretend I actually got some pictures of Dancing Bob At The Back Of The Stage too):

Alan Doyle

Murray Foster & Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle & Sean McCann

Sean McCann & Bob Hallett

Alan Doyle & Kris MacFarlane

Alan Doyle & Sean McCann

Alan Doyle, Sean McCann, Bob Hallett

Murray Foster

Kris MacFarlane & Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle (Charlie Horse's "stalwart men", 3 from Scolding Wife, Captain Kidd, 3 between-song "banter moments" - including Murray's spot-on Sean-provoked Sam The Eagle impersonation - a much-envied Kris gives a more-deserving Alan a hug during Excursion, and 2 from the pre-Run, Runaway Singalong's Bohemian Rhapsody.)

Again, all of these pictures show genuine moments from the Asheville show, one as real as the other. Every single photo is true - small, individual truths that are each a part of the larger truth of the whole show. Or, for those content with the story told by any one photo or any group of photos - those who find in such photos what they think should have happened at this show, what they expected would happen at this show - as much of the truth as is wanted.

Because this entry is getting long and rather graphics-laden, I think I'll wait for the next entry to tell two more stories from the Asheville show, the first being a confession of my own favourite tale (homophonic pun intended) to tell - the one where Alan Doyle is the most impressive and compelling performer/songwriter I've ever encountered, along with being the most gorgeous, sexy, expressive, and endearing too (might as well be honest about my own version of reality, after all) - the second being the story of a much more challenging Asheville show (a bit more dizzying spin) than has been apparent in all of the preceding photos. And maybe, just maybe, with the hope of weaving all of the disparate story-threads - the separate genuine moments and the small individual truths - into a story that comes close to approaching those notions of whole truths and context and causes.

Still naive and idealistic - and somewhat stunned as well - after all these years.

Back for Part Two in a few days.

"When Summer Comes" - A New Journal Entry From Alan & Looking Forward To What's Yet To Come Because Of What's Gone Before, Including The "Shitty" GBS Shows

I am pleased to announce that the leaves on the Beech Tree outside my office window have multiplied to the point that many of my neighbours' backyards are no longer visible to me as I sit and type at the computer.  My nosy spying is annually hindered around this time and for this, I am delighted as it can only mean that Summer has finally come. - Alan Doyle, June 18th journal entry

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So much for vacillating about what next to write about here; a new journal entry from Alan trumps most anything else. Though I hear the weather in St. John's has just taken a bit of a step backward toward being chilly again, it's only a minor setback - summer is indeed afoot (and aleaf) there, delightfully so even if it means a temporary end to nosy spying. And a bit sadly so for those of us who had to leave on a day that was pure perfection, warm and sunny and with a brisk breeze bracingly edged and refreshingly scented by a Narrows iceberg. I have spent so much of my time in Newfoundland during the winter months that seeing the trees in their full and glorious leaf - my equivalent loss to Alan's inquisitive view into his neighbours' backyards was discovering that I could no longer see Cabot Tower out the window for the abundance of leaves - and the streets in their wide and snowdrift-free expanse is somewhat disconcerting, but in a beautiful way. In a quite-difficult-to-leave way as well, enough so to make me very glad of being able to return at summer's end.

Alan paints a deft picture with his words. I can see him sitting at his computer, fingers poised above the keyboard, the summer sunlight reflecting off the lenses of his glasses as he gazes out his office window, peering through obscurant green of the beech tree's leafy branches, a satisfied smile spreading slowly across his face as he measures the season by his shortfall of nosy-spying success.  Summer in Newfoundland comes after a very long wait and does not linger overlong; Alan himself has not lingered overlong in Newfoundland's summer over the past decade or so, good reason to wish him the softest and sweetest of summer's warm caresses during the time he will be home this year, especially nice if he is able to remain home for Memorial Day and that Most Important Birthday that follows soon afterwards.

Here's also hoping he finds himself in that same position in his office that he's so skillfully depicted here often enough over the next weeks to perhaps feel the urge to add to his journal entries. It is very good to hear from him about how things are going and what he's been doing, and his writing is always a delight for the reading.

Bob, Sean, and I just finished another round of demos for the new CD(s).  Kris and Murray were in St. John's for the first round a few weeks back and we hope to have at least one more session before the Summer touring begins in late July.  The plan is to have a couple dozen songs ready to record in September/October with hopes of the top tunes making the cut for a release in early 2008.  Some tunes that you may have heard in concert, like Straight to Hell and Walk on the Moon remain intact following close inspection under the microscope of the studio.  Others have changed in part or in full, so you may have to learn a new chorus or two to sing along at future shows.

Now, this is interesting, especially that "microscope of the studio" comment. Excellent news that Straight To Hell and Walk On The Moon will remain as grand as they were in the recent shows. Not sure if Alan's referring to Hold On For Your Life/1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again in regard to changes "in part or in full" or if the reference might be about (or include) Where I Belong. If the former, I'm quite curious to see what changes might have been provoked by that studio microscope, especially to a chorus that was consistently an immediate hit with audience after audience on the recent Spring Tour, most of those audiences winding up singing along enthusiastically with that chorus by the time the song ended. The chorus of this song works in live peformance, indisputably so - over and over, again and again. There is the microscope of the studio, and there is also the larger laboratory of the stage; it will be interesting to see how those wind up balancing out in the creative process.

If it's the latter song - Where I Belong - that Alan's talking about here, then I might have to go with using "interesting" in the euphemistic way in regard to possible changes since I think that one is exquisite as is. I can see where there could be an argument for changing one of the lines of that song's chorus, but that same line is also one of the most painfully honest lines of the entire song. It tells a truth that needs to be told, and I can't think of any Newfoundland artists more appropriate for the telling of that truth than GBS.

Then again, it's always possible that no matter how good something starts out being, change comes along and makes it even better. There's certainly a proven history of excellence upon which to base trust and hope, if perhaps less so when it comes to the taking of chances. But so much of what I heard and saw in these most recent shows supports the belief that this newest GBS CD could be something very special, a step forward to whatever it is they want the most to be creating and playing and toward who they want to be as artists. Maybe even a clear indication of what the more-distant future might hold. And I have most certainly not forgotten that Alan has said this CD will "Rock Planet Earth." As it should be and not a doubt that this is as it shall be.

I am also very intrigued by Alan's mention of "demos for the new CD(s)." Plural, albeit parenthetically plural. Perhaps the GBS double-album release might one day happen after all. Maybe this time they'll be able to do it all exactly the way they want to do it.

A few weeks back we three, along with gals and pals, had a group birthday dinner at a new restaurant called Atlantica.  It is located in the Beach House B&B in Portugal Cove, about 15 minutes drive from Downtown St. John's.  Kory, the owner, built the place literally hanging over the Atlantic Ocean as the Dining Room sits on reclaimed land on the beach.  The many large windows give a dandy view of the water, icebergs, whales, and the charming going and coming of the Bell Island Ferry.  One of the nicest places to sit in the country, for sure.  Jeremy, the chef, is a well traveled local who I met at a GBS show in Chicago a few years back when he was employed as a private chef by someone rich enough to afford a private chef.   The food is world class.  The service is just as good.  We had a grand night there and were the last to leave before they turned out the lights.

Another good picture drawn with words, of both place and event. Someone here (I'm sorry but I can't remember who it was) was wondering not long ago whether the three of them ever held joint birthday celebrations, and here's an answer for that question. I hope there was an abundance of cake that evening, among other abundances.

"Southern Shore", the new Irish Descendants CD was released a few weeks ago.  I produced the CD at GB Studio with Con and the lads.  It features mostly traditional songs from Newfoundland and Ireland as well as a song that Con and I wrote about cutting out cod tongues as boys, and a fun cover of Jim Fiddler's song "Downtown Girl" that has Sean, Bob, and I singing a verse or two.  Check it out if you get a chance.

I've already gone on about Southern Shore, which isn't going to stop me at all from going on a bit more. It really is an excellent CD - the "album of a lifetime," as the CD's liner notes aptly put it - and out of a pile of great tunes skillfully arranged and impeccably played, it's Not For The Money Alone, that co-write of Alan's and Con's about cod-tongue cutting - as well as about rites-of-passage and cultural upheaval - that shines the brightest, a perfect example of how to write about something very specific and local in such a way as to give it a depth and a resonance that embraces the universal and global.

Don't leave it to chance; make a point of checking out the Irish Descendants' Southern Shore CD.

Once again, I have triumphed over my counterparts in the GBS Playoff Hockey Pool.  Two years in a row, the Doyle Team has crushed the opposition.  The other participants (also known as "losers") of the Pool made a donation at Daffodil Place in lieu of bowing to the champ.

Nice plug for Daffodil Place. Since one good plug for a very worthy cause deserves another...

Everything is gonna be alright.
Hope all is well wherever you are.

See you on the road in July.

As Alan himself has been known to say, May this be the best summer ever. At home and on the road alike. For just one of the many reasons why I am looking forward to July, that would be found in the second part of this entry.

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I'd planned to work on the Warner Theatre, Washington D.C., pictures next, because that Spring-Tour-ending show was an unqualified triumph and the pictures turned out quite good too since the lights were turned up for that one and nobody was elbowing me in the head during the show. It was probably the best overall show on the whole tour - though NYC's Hammerstein Ballroom show comes damn close - and I wanted to get those photos up as soon as I could.

But as much as I loved the D.C. show and wanted to work on those pictures - as much as that show had impressed me and as unforgettable as it had been - the show that kept coming back into my mind was the Asheville show at the Orange Peel. The Asheville show had also made an impression, unforgettable in its own right and in its own way.

On the surface, Asheville was the most disappointing show I saw on the GBS Spring Tour - whicih is not to say it was the weakest or most problematic show...certainly not the "shittiest" show. I tend to get prickly about that "shitty GBS show" notion: Some time ago I was thoroughly chastised for my failure to acknowledge shitty shows as being such in writing about them; I tried to answer back by saying that it wasn't as if I were claiming that shitty shows had been good, more that I was following Alan's own lead with such shows by simply choosing not to mention them. (Again, this is one of those Venn Diagram circumstances: it's not that all shows Alan does not talk about are shitty, not at all. It's that he almost never talks about the problematic shows, along with there being plenty of quite good shows that don't get mentioned either.)

It seemed to me a reasonable enough way to deal with the matter, even if much less so to my Insistent Chastiser; though to be fair, I did do my own shitty job of explaining my perceptions of and reactions to even the most difficult of GBS's shows.  What I should have had the wherewithal to say at the time was that while I love seeing the triumphant GBS shows - such as the Hammersteins and the Warners, and so many others - it's the challenging shows where nothing is achieved without hard work and determined effort that have caused me to have such admiration and respect for the hardest and most determined worker I've seen on any stage, anywhere. There are times when he's joined in those efforts by all of the other men on stage with him and times when he's joined by only a few of them. There are times when his ceaseless efforts are a dazzling success and times when they still fall short of the goal. Either way, and in each instance, those efforts have never failed to impress me and to persuade me - no matter what the outcome of the show might be, shitty or spectacular and all points between - that I am seeing someone being the best at what he does, by my own standards of what comprises The Best. The triumphant shows are wonderful, not a bit of doubt about that; but the difficult shows are also wonderful in a different way.

Asheville was a difficult show. That it was going to be more or less a mess was apparent enough even before the show started. There were three or four distinctly different audience groups, each with expectations differing enough to guarantee that all couldn't possibly wind up seeing the show they most wanted to see, with the one group of loud and obnoxious out-of-control attention-hungry drunks most likely to be interfering with what others might have hoped for. Add in spotty sound and inconsistent lights, toss in a few reticent performances by some on stage (and no blame from me for that, given the behaviour of some in the crowd - I sure gave up on many in that crowd early on), and then cap all that off with my own overblown expectations for what this show was going to be like based on past GBS Asheville shows I'd been at - shows that had been so good before that I'd skipped the previous show this time around to make absolutely sure I made it to Asheville for what was sure to be yet another grand show there - to get a surefire recipe for disappontment.

And in some ways, it was indeed disappointing. I'd hoped for a much better crowd, to be sure, one that was more cohesive and certainly more supportive, as those past Asheville crowds had been. There was way too much that felt greedy and grabby this time around; that feeling carried over after the show too, in the predatory charge in the air at the pub afterwards, totally off-putting on all counts, probably more so because I hadn't expected such unpleasant crap in this town the way I expect it in some other towns. All of the elements were present for a "shitty" show. But that's not what kind of show it was, not by my definitions.

All of them had their strong moments on stage, individually and collectively, the latter especially during a moving Clearest Indication that was so powerful it shut the loud ones up for its duration. So did Sean's John Barbour, amazingly so. Each performer had his good moments that night at the Orange Peel, but it was Alan who kept at it all night long, assessing and adjusting, cajoling and insisting, choosing and focusing, deciding and controlling. He was relentless, and he was fascinating.

Does that mean that all of Alan's prodigious, ceaseless efforts wound up making the Asheville show a triumph? Not so much. The show was still more or less a mess, the frenzied drunks acted like such idiots whenever they got any attention from him that he had to pretty much abandon one section of the crowd in order to connect with the rest of those there, the sound and the lights were still troubled, and I was not the only one who was disappointed in and gave up on the crowd. But the man who never stopped working and connecting all show long  wound up making as much out of that show as it was possible for him - and certainly for anyone else - to make; even if Asheville might not have been a triumph overall, it was still a victory for that determined man, to those of us who define "victory" in terms of stubborn passion and relentless effort and who think the only "shitty" shows are the ones where giving up takes the place of that passion and effort. 

All of which is an integral part of why I am looking forward so much to July and August, and to the shows that lie on the other side of this summer that has so recently come. I know that along with the triumphant shows that are filled with energetic delight and played with skillful precision for enthusiastic and supportive crowds, there will also be those shows that wind up with more than their fair share of missed notes and assorted other miscues and mistakes; there will be shows at which weariness or frustration or chemical/blood-alcohol counts impede the excellence and the pleasure of the performance. There will be shows played for crowds which are so stunned or so obnoxious or so self-absorbed that they manage to suck much of the joy out of evening, antithetical synergy at it's most perturbing. There will be shows where no triumph is pragmatically achievable. But on such nights there will still be stubborn passion and relentless effort, and there will still be victory to be won. Those shows will wind up fascinating me and impressing me and moving me the same way this Asheville show did, and they will be equally unforgettable. That realisation, along with memories of all the triumphant shows past and sure belief in more of the same ahead, is making it all the more difficult to wait patiently for July to come.

A series of pictures from Asheville, then, with more of all the players to come later; these pictures are about Alan's performance at what certainly seemed to be one of the more challenging shows on the Spring Tour, as he moves from assessment to focus to persuasion to command and control. There are different ways to be impressive, as well as wonderful; I saw one of those ways at the Orange Peel in Asheville this past spring. I have every assurance I will see more ways of being wonderful this summer.

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Murray Foster & Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle & Sean McCann

Alan Doyle & Bob Hallett. (Photos from Jack Hinks, Scolding Wife, 2 Between-Song Alanisms, Paddy Murphy, Between Songs Again,  John Barbour,  LR SoNC, Shines Right Through Me, 3 When I Am King,  3 pre-Run, Runaway Singalongs, LR SoNC again, 3 Excursion.)

Probably those Warner Theatre Triumph pictures next, though I might give in to that unexpected anchor tug and do some of the Newfoundland ones first, especially the Petty Harbour shots form the Hatching, Matching & Dispatching site and the "cover shot" for Alan's ever-hoped-for solo album. Then again, if Alan should happen to do another journal entry, that's high trump for sure.

"On The Beach And The Wharf And The Stage" Part Three - Irish Descendants Perform "We Laughed" From Their "Southern Shore" CD On Canada AM; How Not To Treat An Audience; & Father's Day Wishes

The late night was easy enough to pull off, but the early morning failed to follow after, which is another way of saying I did not make it down to Harbourside Park to watch the second (gloriously blessed by sunshine "splitting The Rock," as Seamus described it) day of Canada AM On The Rock. I never got that nap last night, so I took it this morning instead, shutting off the early alarm and having myself a quite lovely sleep all the way nearly to the end of the Canada AM broadcast, though I did just manage to catch the Navigators closing things up with a good - and appropriate, even if I'd still like to hear it done with a still-sharper "this is not a tourist song" edge - version of The Islander.

We did record the whole broadcast, but the recorder's at another house and I won't be seeing today's broadcast till later tonight; I have checked out the Canada AM site clips from the show, and once again, I can't find a clip that includes the Navigators performance any more than I could ever find the Irish Descendants and Karla Pilgrim performing We Laughed (from their new Southern Shore CD that Alan produced) on yesterday's show. I've spent some time doing captures of feeds and puzzling over how it is the Canada AM broadband setup works, all to scant tangible gain and abundant disk-space overload. It's probably not the best task for the technologically stunned to be taking on.

Stunned though I may be, I'm also resourceful, albeit in a half-arsed sort of way. I do have my own video clip of the IDs and Karla Pilgrim performing We Laughed, and also a clip of them doing some warmup playing of the instrumentals on this song and a clip of the lastest, fastest part of them and the Bishop Feild schoolchildren (and Seamus the St. Bon's alumnus) doing their best to keep up with Con O'Brien on Rattllin' Bog, though I wish the quality was a bit better than it wound up being, particularly on the first video.

The first video clip - the one of We Laughed - is hard to hear (part of why I so wanted to find a pro cllip on the CTV site) because I was standing in the middle of a group of chatty young girls (more about them in a second, in regard to their sadly dashed expectations of seeing Great Big Sea) and bit wobbly too, since the girls and I were all standing on a stairway where we kept getting jostled and bumped as people moved up and down the steps. The instrumentals of this song can actually be heard a bit better in the third "warmup" clip, since the crowd was somewhat quieter at that point.

But as far as I can tell, my noisy, wobbly clip is the only digitised copy of We Laughed that I'm likely to be getting ahold of, so I'll be glad for it as is and happy to share it too, as well as the other two. Since they're from my camera, all of these files are .mov (Quicktime - free player download) format and are frigging huge. My apologies to dial-uppers.

We Laughed, Irish Descendants with Karla Pilgrim, Canada AM June 14, 2007    170 MB

We Laughed instrumental warmup music, Irish Descendants w. Karla Pilgrim, Canada AM, June14, 2007  60 MB

As for Rattlin' Bog, I'd intended to take pictures during that one and rely on the Canada AM cameras for the video component, but the children looked so cute trying to keep up with the ever-increasing pace of the song, I couldn't resist the switch to video during the last, most frantic parts.

Rattlin' Bog (final frenzy), Irish Descendants, Karla Pilgrim, And Bishop Feild Students, Canada AM, June 14, 2007   105 MB

Yes, I know this is a large amount of Irish Descendants Content. What can I say? I like the way Con O'Brien sings and how the band members play, I like their new CD and even more so I like the sense and discernment shown in asking Alan Doyle to produce that CD. Maybe most of all, I like the way Con talks about Alan, not only what he says but how he says it. That alone would be enough to make me like the man; the music stands on its own merit. Sincerity goes a very long way with me, especially when it comes dressed up in affectionate irony.

Anyone who knows me knows that whenever I have pictures, I have the proverbial shitload of pictures, true enough for this Canada AM broadcast, to be sure. I've got guest shots and crowd shots and a bunch of ID shots, also quite a few of Seamus because of all those interesting expressions that flit across Seamus's face, on camera and most especially off. Interesting expressions will always catch my eye, as well as my lens. But right now I have more photos than I have time; there are umpteen things that need to be done in a short time, as well as a gorgeous day to get back out into while I can...and tonight is reserved for my second favourite Newfoundland songwriter . So I am going to put up just a few photos for now and do the rest later, that semi-mythical "later" when everything gets caught up.

Probably not so long for these as it's been for some pictures though, since I would like to write a bit about the broadcast itself, what it was like watching it come together. I've been going to tapings/filmings/live broadcasts since I was a kid and always find them fascinating in their own odd ways. This one most assuredly had some odd ways and was thus quite fascinating, so I do want to make the time for a bit more about it and the rest of the pictures too.

For now, though, just a few of those pictures, followed by one hope-to-be brief comment.

Canada AM co-hosts Seamus O'Regan and Bev Johnson make nice for the camera with the Irish Descendants and Karla Pilgrim behind them.

Seamus O'Regan & Beverly Thomson, Irish Descendants & Karla Pilgrim

Con O'Brien, Glen Hiscock, Seamus O'Regan, Beverly Thomson, Graham Wells

This was right after the IDs and Karla had performed We Laughed. Seamus is asking Con about their new Southern Shore CD and the history behind the writing of the Billy Bragg-co-authored tune, all of which can be seen and heard in the video file I posted in the prior entry.

Con O'Brien, Glen Hiscock, Seamus O'Regan, Beveryly Thomson, Graham Wells, Karla Pilgrim, Paul Hiscock

Bev talks to Karla about her recent experiences travelling to entertain Canadian troops in Afghanistan; again, in the same video file in the last entry.

Irish Descendants, Seamus O'Regan & Beverly Thomson, Karla Pilgrim

Con gets the Rattllin' Bog on the go, accompanied by schoolchildren from Bishop Feild. Seamus did a credible job of keeping up too, all the way to the end, though Bev looks a bit bemused by it all.

Irish Descendants, Karla Pilgrim, Bishop Feild students

Con O'Brien

Karla Pilgrim, Seamus O'Regan, Beverly Thomson

Canada AM studio audience

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Final comment, more or less: I do understand why it was announced several times during the Canada AM broadcast that "we'll soon be joined by Great Big Sea"; from the point of view of the television audience, GBS appearing live or GBS appearing in a taped segment is six of one, half a dozen of another. Not so for the studio audience, hovever, especially when a total lack of explanation makes it so easy for misunderstanding and blame to occur.

While I can also understand wanting to keep as many people in the audience there for the duration of the broadcast - thereby explaining that lack of explanation - I still think it sucks in the very bad way that no one ever came out and told some very expectant people at The Rooms yesterday morning that they were not going to be seeing GBS live. There was a gaggle of little girls all excited about seeing GBS, and there were quite a few matronly missuses - even a few Nans and Grannys who'd been playing the standing-room-only waiting game for several hours - talking about the same anticipated event with just as much, if not more, enthusiasm as the little girls. When I tried a few times to suggest to members of both groups that perhaps GBS might have taped a piece instead of showing up in person, the responses were identical: "Oh no, we were told Great Big Sea will be here; just you wait, we'll see them come in any minute now."

Making matters worse was the absence of any explanation given to the folks in the live audience about what in the world was going on in regard to GBS. There was a brief mention from a crew member of a long break during which everyone stood around waiting being because of an "online interview" taking place with Great Big Sea, and I'm assuming the very few people who could see one of the monitors would have been able to see the previously taped segment as it aired on the show. As for the rest, many waited  with hope till the end and then left uninformed and disappointed, with most of the blame being assigned to the absent ones.

Personally, I thought it damn generous of GBS not to be the main guest on the Canada
AM On The Rock broadcast; I'm sure CTV would have loved for them to be guests since GBS is the biggest Newfoundland musical television-ratings draw across Canada (frankly, I wish they had been less generous and become the top-billed guests...and then turned Canadian preconceptions about both Newfoundlanders and GBS upside down with a deliciously raucous rendition of Straight To Hell). That GBS stepped aside and left the prime spots to others says something very admirable about them (though, to be fair, the O'Brien Newfoundland First Family Of Tourism connection probably played a role too) and for that generous act to wind up as part of a situation where people walk away disappointed in GBS because inaccurate expectations were deliberately encouraged for self-serving reasons...sucks.

There are already so many people here who bitch and complain about what they think GBS should or shouldn't be doing; that relentlessly negative attitude got a much unneeded and very unfortunate (and totally unfair) boost with how this was handled.

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Since I really hate ending on a negative note, even on a justfiably negative note, l'm going to renege on that "final comment" thing and add a few more photos before heading out into the remainder of the day's sunny delights. There really should be at least one shot of Danny Williams for this entry, anyway; here, Danny uses voice, hands, and will to make his point to Bev Johnson, and in so doing he reminds me a great deal of another eloquently expressive fellow I've watched being interviewed many times before.

Danny Williams tells it like it is.Beverly Thomson, Danny Williams

Speaking of being expressive: This is a long zoom and tight crop since Seamus is surrounded by children (the St. Bon's class) off-camera and I'm waffling about letting them show up online here since, unlike the Bishop Feild kids, these children were never shown on the television show itself. But even with the slight blur from being overly blown-up (do I even need to say the punch line that goes with that one?), the devilish mischief is still plain enought to see.

Seamus O'Regan looking a bit wicked.Seamus O'Regan

Devilish mischief is a much better place to end. Or begin, as the case may be.

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That's probably it for me until Father's Day or a bit after, perhaps. I've been thinking a lot about Father's Day this week, not all that unusual since my Dad's birthday always falls a week or so before. When I was a kid, I sure never thought I'd spend so much of my life without my Dad - this Father's Day is the 19th one where it's been a day for remembering rather than a day for sharing - and I also never thought it would take me nearly as long to learn some of what he tried so hard to teach me. He made some really big mistakes in his life, but he got the things that mattered the most right; what he tried his best to teach the thick-skulled (that would be me) is still being learned and he is still being remembered and loved. Not at all a bad epitaph, to my way of thinking, on Father's Day and all the days following after.

Happy Father's Day to all Dads (especially brandly new ones celebrating their day for the very first time) and to all who willl spend Sunday remembering or sharing.

On The Beach And The Wharf And The Stage" Part Two - Canada AM visits Newfoundland; Great Big Sea, Mollie, and Seamus O'Regan See An Iceberg; & The Irish Descendants Rattle The Bog

I went to The Rooms for the Canada AM filming early (way too early) this morning, an altogether interesting experience I'll be happy to write about later, after I get a bit more sleep. Did I say it all took place very early this morning? And since I've got a late night tonight with another early morning tomorrow followed by another late night...a nap sounds lovely right about now. But before I head off into what I hope is a pleasant dream, I thought I'd do my part to share with those who might not have been able to see the show. 

Many of the broadcast segments from this morning's show can be seen on the Canada AM site (scroll down a bit and click on "AM On The Rock," "AM On The Rock Gallery" and "The Irish Descendants"), but for those whose connections won't let them see the streaming video - and also for those who might like to keep a copy on their hard drives - here's a downloadable file that includes the GBS segment at 5:30 into the 8 minute (32 MB) file.

GBS (and one very cute dog) On Canada AM June 14 (5:30 in)

Leave it to Alan to be owned by a dog who somehow manages to match him in cuteness. as well as in willfullness, apparently. And I'd like to hear the rest of that story about the young missus and the iceberg. No way am I even going near the Cretaceous Iceberg topic; there are times when English majors need to close ranks and hang together, lest we all hang separately.

There's a second download of the short interview at the end with the Irish Descendants (including Con O'Brien's rather deftly done Alan Doyle Impersonation) and the singing of Rattlin' Bog with the children from Bishop Field.

Irish Descendants interview and Rattlin' Bog, Canada AM June 14 (30 MB)

So far I haven't seen a clip up on the CTV site of the IDs/Karla Pilgrim performance of We Laughed from the Southern Shore CD, but if that clip comes up later, I'll put up a downloadable version of it up here too. And I have my own video of them doing this song that I can put up in a bit, along with some pictures - including a few nice shots of Danny Williams, who was quite the hit with the studio audience. All of that comes after the nap, however, and likely after the late night and possibly the next early morning as well.

"On The Beach And The Wharf And The Stage*" Part One - Natural Wonders & Relentless Beauty In Newfoundland (Icebergs And Rock Stars)

*Just to be clear, the primary meaning of "stage" as used in the Alan Doyle/Con O'Brien song Not For The Money Alone on the Irish Descendants' new Southern Shore CD is related to Newfoundland's cod fishery...but it's also a word that resonates significantly, considering where the men who wrote the song spend so much of their time these days.

I know it's been quite some time since my last entry here. I've been waiting for a lessening of the traffic generated from a link posted on a very popular Russell Crowe board for the Land Of A Second Chance  video screen caps in the prior entry here; since that link simply took people to the most recent blog entry, I wanted to leave the screen-caps entry up on top for as long as a lot of people were coming here to see those caps. It lasted a bit longer than I thought - I tend to forget how massive the numbers of Russell Crowe fans are - but that's a good thing. With any luck, a few of those many Crowe fans also checked out the info about the excellent new Irish Descendants CD that Alan produced. Juxtaposition is everything.

Now the pace of the link-clicking is moderating itself back to more-usual numbers, but now my problem is there's so much that I've been thinking of writing about in the interim that I don't know where to begin. We did take the drive up the Southern Shore on a beautiful sunny day - listening to that excellent new CD most all the way - and during a brief stopover in Petty Harbour, I saw what could be the perfect cover photo for Alan's biography/autobiography, as well as recognised the vantage point from which the town itself is most clearly seen, and that could be a whole entry on its own. What Sean's hosting skills on the most recent GBS podcast suggest about a possible future/additional career for him, and what the fondess for William Blake that Bob's latest blog post suggests about The Man Damn Few People Ever Get To See could each be their own entries, right along with British-Israelism and cult nutjobs and my own favourite Blake quote, which I think is even better than the excellent one Bob uses.

Anglophiliac talk could lead to a discussion of plans to travel in the UK in a few months (and such thoughts might have played their own role in Bob's choice of topic for that most recent entry) - plans to see Hadrian's Wall and the Rosetta Stone and Stonehenge and get over to Wales, where my own family comes from - or even a English-majorly dweebish treatise on why it is 16th- and 17th-century lit are superior to 18th-century lit. Then again, perhaps not that last one.

There's music to be talked about too. I finally saw Fergus on his own the other night and was very impressed with how he handled himself and also with what was a brave and umcompromising (as well as thoroughly enjoyable) choice of material. He did two songs I'd love to see GBS cover someday; I've got the lyrics to one and am still looking for the other. I've seen three benefit shows that each featured a fascinating cross-section of Newfoundland artists, ranging from the wonderful (at the first) to the terrible (one of those oh-shit-try-to-keep-a-straight-face moments during the second), with the third being a Jeff Buckley Tribute that more or less missed the artistic point but was at least a solid effort for a worthy cause.  Last night was African and reggae music and the largest number of same-sex couples I've ever seen in any one place in town, I'm going to try to catch the Irish Descendants during the Canada AM taping in a few days, I'm still hoping to see Con one night this week if he ever plays when he's scheduled (Kalem sure doesn't), and Ron Hynes is playing the night before I have to leave. I could go on and on and on about the music.

Needless to add mention of the umpteen photos I could be putting up from all the shows I've yet to do, and I'm also in the middle of trying to redesign the blog layout and add a shitload of video links, not much of which is getting done yet because I have been spending an inordinate amount of time here just being happy to be here, taking great pleasure in such simple and small things as the dazzle of sunlight on the water and a charming smile on a passerby's face, the warmth of an evening breeze and the laughter of a dear friend...enjoying the sweetness of caring about what matters without bothering with what does not. That which is easy to love is not at all difficult to find here, and the same can be said for that which is both wonderful and wonderfull, CBC's own short list of Wonders notwithstanding

No, I am not sure where to begin at the moment, so I think I'll begin with a series of pictures that might show a small part of what is wonderful and wonderfull here. Two series, as a matter of fact.

The first begins during the 'early evening hours of a few days ago. I looked out the window toward the Narrows, and something unusual out in the water caught my eye.

View toward the Narrows

Closer inspection via camera zoom showed it was indeed a moderate-sized iceberg, perfectly situated in the Narrows. I bet the Canada AM people are fervently hoping for an encore performance; if this were LA, someone would be arranging to tow a berg into this same position for the live show.

Iceberg in the Narrows

First we went down to the wharf to get the long view. Over on the hilltop to the left is Cabot Tower s shrouded in fog, and the Fort Amherst Lighthouse can be seen on the right hillside.

View from the wharf

The road to the lighthouse was now also the road to the iceberg as daylight was beginning to fade and the rain started to get heavier.

Walking out toward Ft. Amherst

Iceberg at Ft. Amherst

Up close and personal with the Wonderfull. The boat in the background gives some perspective for this moderate-sized berg (I saw a really big one in the far distance off the Norhtern Peninsula once and at first thought it a cruise ship); the blue colour was actually a bit more intense than can be seen in the photo. And it's truly a chill wind that blows landward from a berg - bitingly cold and and carrying a unique scent, a multi-sense experience that creates a feeling of utter wonder.

Iceberg and fishing boat

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While I'm on the topic of Newfoundland's wonders, something I've been doing these past few days while trying to get my blog better organised has given me cause to be very happy about how a Chief Newfoundland Wonder has been deservedly appreciated in such widely scattered places as Spain, Singapore, Germany, Turkey, Brazil, Libya, Japan, Nigeria, Slovenia, France, New Zealand, and Pakistan, among others. I've been checking the stats counters on my blog, and while they don't tell me a whole lot, they do allow me to do go back with the Google Image Searches that led people to my blog to see what country the searcher is from, as well as what picture it was that brought that person onto the blog.

Among a few shots of Sean that remain consistently popular, the pictures of Alan that tend to get checked out most often are the ones of him and his Dad singing together and the ones of him playing hockey. Then there are the Rock Star Photos, the popularity of which seems to be increasing at a rapid pace. All of the Electric Alan shots get checked out often, but lately, this is the picture which has been the View Of Choice in places both near and very far away.

Alan Doyle, Newfoundland Wonder

A few other pictures from the Warner Theatre show have also been seen by quite a few faraway eyes recently, so much so that this is for sure going to be the next show for which I get all the pictures done, eventually. But that's for later. For now, I'll just put up a few of the photos from that show that I'd already put up a while ago and which keep persistently popping up in those image searches that sometimes originate in the most unexpected places, though perhaps not a bit unexpected when it comes to people all over being able to recognise a Wonder when they see one.

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle

Alan Doyle, in perfect light

"You are Alan Doyle"

Canada may have its Seven Wonders, but Newfoundland has Wonders all Her own. Not a bit of doubt which will always win both the votes and the hearts from some of us.

"Love Me Now, While We're Alive" Part 3 - Great Collaborations: A CBC Interview About The Irish Descendants' "Southern Shore" & Screen Caps From Russell Crowe's/TOFOG's "Land Of The Second Chance"

Quite a good interview yesterday with Alan Doyle and Con O'Brien on CBC Radio One, the two of them chatting with Jian Ghomeshi on his Q show, talking about how the Irish Descendants' brand new (Alan-Doyle-produced) Southern Shore CD came to be. It was a very interesting discussion, and it even ended with a playing of the vocally-acccompanied-by-GBS Downtown Girl track from that just-released CD.

Since I was sure lots of folks wouldn't have a chance to listen for themselves, I recorded the show, two versions of it. This first version is the part of Jian's show that is the interview with Alan and Con:

Alan Doyle & Con O'Brien discuss "Southern Shore" with Jian Ghomeshi on 'Q' CBC Radio One  4MB

The second file's larger, because it's the whole show. I think it's cool because it gives the context within which this interview about the traditional songs of Newfoundland's Southern Shore takes place, right in the midst of Leonard Cohen, Philip Glass, The New Pornographers, a bit of opera and Europop, along with discussions of playwriting and photography, all of it capped by a finale of Alan and Con and their music...saving the best for last, not at all a bad strategy. This is for those who enjoy context as much as I do:

Complete Broadcast of May 31 "Q" program, ending with Alan Doyle/Con O'Brien "Southern Shore" interview   13MB

This informative and at times enlightening interview touches on the history and nature of the collaborative relationship between Alan and Con, and it also gives some background particulars about the Southern Shore CD that I really should have included in the CD review in my last entry here, especially in regard to the Billy Bragg co-written tune We Laughed. There are also some pertinent and illuminating comments about the need to understand both a place and the music that is the expression of that place when producing such music. Very good stuff. These are two articulate and thoughtful men and they're an even greater pleasure to listen to speaking than they are singing and playing, which is truly high praise of the former, given their talent and skill at the latter.

The tone of the interview itself is sweet and at times quite amusing - Con O'Brien comes off as a master of  the characteristically understated and wickedly deadpan Newfoundland style of humour, and hearing Alan's roguish laughter is sufficient unto itself in making for a delightful listen - and there's a good deal of keen-witted honesty in it as well, if you know where to look for that honesty and are willing to accept it when you see it. Their incisive-yet-tactful description of the Downtown Girl in all of her collective ubiquity is as priceless as it is befitting.

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Finally done with the photo album for screen caps from Russell Crowe & The Ordinary Fear Of God's Land Of The Second Chance video. I'll put some of the ones I like the best up here (in addition to the ones mostly of Alan I put up in the last entry), but for the best viewing, go to the album and pick the View As Slide Show option.

Land Of A Second Chance video screen caps album

This is an impressive video, skillfully crafted with good cinematography and even better directing. The caps give only a glimpse of what's to be seen when watching the full video, which can be found by following the band-website link above. But the caps are still fun, and I'll try to make what I put here  at least a hint of the fascinating story that can be found both in the video and in the song.

 

   

Seeing this video has substantially sharpened an already- and ever-present desire to see the band come together again to play all that wonderful music and to create new wonderful music in the bargain. From what has been said, it sounds as if Russell has plans to take his Ordinary Fear Of God band out on quite the spectacular road in July of 2009, touring across Northern Europe with a symphony orchestra (which will be doing a medieval Icelandic saga interpretation, a Saga Symphony Tour - how could I have possibly known back in my undergrad days that those seminars on Njal's and Grettis' sagas and all the rest would be so persistently relevant?) and playing gigs with the guys in his own band on symphony-nights-off. When I first heard about these grand plans, it took no more than a half second for the thought to appear fully formed in my mind: If he wants to do it, dear God I hope Alan gets to go on that road trip.

The potential is tremendous for great music and wonderful  performances all along that road, even more so for memorable and perhaps once-in-a-lifetime experiences. It might even turn out that some of the symphony musicians would occasionally feel inclined to wander into a band show on their off nights and perhaps do a bit of spontaneous playing, all the players making beautiful music together on a midnight-sun summer's evening in some little club in Reykjavik or Oslo or Copenhagen.  At least, that's how I'd write it happening.The more I think about all the potentially great times that could be had, the more I hope that Alan will be able to do it, if that is what he most wants to do. I'd write that happening too. Alan would always find happiness in any story I'd write. This tour sounds like a tale of grand possibilities.

But who knows? It's scheduled for more than two years on the far side of today, and I'm not at all sure of Alan's status with TOFOG2 right now, same with several of the other Ordinary Fear Of God players who made for so many magic moments up and down the eastern coast of Australia a few years ago. I know Bones Hillman is in Nashville now, trying to make a go of it in the States and, from the sound of it, not getting anywhere near the respect and attention a truly great player deserves. I'm not sure about some of the others, though I did hear that keyboard maestro Stu Hunter has just released his very own CD, after years of having shared his considerable talents on the CDs of so many others. I think drummer Dave Kelly and brass man Stewart Kirwan are still near where Russell is, though working on their own projects now. Someone told me lead-guitar man (and very long-time Russell Crowe band mate) Dean Cochran had moved away from Australia, but I don't know how true that is. Either way, it sounds as if the chances of bringing the same band back together that played the My Hand, My Heart songs with such persuasive passion and impressive skill might not be as great as hope would wish them to be.

Which doesn't mean that hope isn't going to keep right on doing what she does best. That was excellent music played damn well; I miss hearing it and I miss seeing those performances. I was continually impressed with how Alan handled himself during that entire run of shows, proud of him too. It was so good to see him in a place where there was far less need for pretending and far more freedom to be the person and the performer he chose to be.  And I wound up thinking very well of Russell Crowe - the performer I saw again and again, and also the person I got glimpses of here and there. I came away from those weeks of seeing the two of them and their band at the Australia shows thinking that I wanted Russell Crowe to create and play more music with Alan because I believe it's a collaboration that's good for Alan - again, good for both the performer and for the person. That's pretty much the highest praise and the most heartfelt recommendation anyone who shares a stage with Alan is ever going to be getting from me.

And it has indeed crossed my mind that a good number of truly excellent new songs could be created between now and July of 2009. I'd write it happening that way too.

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Enough for now. Next entry I'm hoping to have the pictures I took of my first "real" iceberg (saw a little growler in Outer Cove a week or so ago, but no comparison to the Big Fellow who sashayed down past the Narrows yesterday afternoon) edited and up here. And I am currently in "negotiations" with a very generous person who has just given me a spectacular audio gift; I'm asking her if I can please share with others the treasure she has so generously shared with me. If she says "yes," that sharing will be happening as soon as it possibly can. But even if she does not, her kind-heartedness is still going to be deeply appreciated. Don't ever let anyone - most definitely including me - ever persuade you that there are not plenty of good people to be found any any group.