Well that was a pretty cranky sounding entry! It illustrates my point about my own hypocrisy, though. I get all 'tabloid' when ruminating on the nature of my new found narrow-mindedness. What moral transgressions led to that outburst? Nothing, outside of my own crankiness. So forget I said that stuff, okay? "The jury is instructed to disregard those statements."

Anyway, tonight was great. I'm in Bellingham, and I've had a red circle around this date for the whole tour, because when I saw this city on the schedule, I thought I'd get a chance to see my cousin Craig, who's lived up here for years. I haven't seen him for ten years, right after he and his wife Sarah had Grady. So I got in touch with Craig, and as it turned out, his brother Roger lives nearby, and while I was here, his mom, my aunt was visiting with her husband! So we all had dinner at Craig and Sarah's place before the show, along with their friend (stalker?) Ashley. It was so much fun, sitting around catching up. My biggest regret is not meeting Grady, but he had a prior social engagement, which I completely understand. Everybody came to the show, and we made promises to try to be better at keeping in touch.

The other magic word for the day was "Food". I'm stuffed. We started the day with a pilgrimage to the "Southern Kitchen' at 6th and Sprague in Tacoma, a famous Soul Food place. Biscuits and gravy, catfish, grits, hashbrowns...heavy fair for someone who doesn't eat breakfast. But it was SO GOOD, I cleaned my plate (for the record, I had the special; Biscuits and gravy, two eggs, and hash browns for $3.99!!). I was stuffed all day.

Later, dinner at Craig and Sarah's; Pork, potatoes and home made Apple Sauce. Killer. The pork was especially tasty. Oh, and asparagas too. And yes, I ate some. Then this caramel apple pie for desert that Craig made. He said our grandmother taught him how to bake pies! My aunt said "She never taught me!"

Here's where the wretched excess comes in; in Vancouver, we met this guy originally from Oakland who's lived up in B.C. for about ten years. Boonie is a caterer, who's mission is to bring Soul Food to Canada. Well, tonight Boonie brought Soul Food to us, and like the ad says, "Them ribs is POPPIN'!" So there I was eating ribs, sausage, red beans and rice and corn bread at one in the morning. Check the man out; he's going to be very popular very soon.

I, on the other hand, should probably take the rest of the week off from eating.

There are some time honored, hard and fast rules for bands on the road. Believe me, the Las Vegas Chamber of Commerce may have a copy write on the whole “What Happens in Vegas…” thing, but they sure didn’t start it. The code of silence is alive and well.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here to write a tell all. Let’s face it; this isn’t the freewheeling seventies. We’ve lived about a quarter of a century with the knowledge that sex can cause death. The drugs available during my High School days look like Trick or Treat handouts compared to the current crop of narcotics.

I pretty much grew up in bands. Nobody’s ever written a book called “Everything I Need to Know, I Learned in the Alley Behind The Mabuhay”, but if anyone wants to, I could add a chapter or two. I’m not saying I was totally awash in decadence and excess, but I have been there, I have done that, but I don’t think the T-Shirt fits anymore.

Which brings me around to my point; when did I become such a…grown up? Sex, drugs, booze, deception…and I just sit back and say “Hey, who am I to judge, man?” but inside I’ve suddenly got this little Inner Evangelist, and I’m smiting everyone.

So I guess Hypocrisy is my sin. I certainly feel guilty about my mental heathen stonings. I’ve never wanted to be preachy about sobriety and fidelity, but I do tell people how it’s worked for me, and really, it’s not like we’re Led Zeppelin out here.

Maybe I’m just a little burned out, and looking for things to be silently huffy about. I should probably eat better and get more rest. And not be so damn judgmental. Or mental.

In other news, Mt. Rainier never made another appearance. For all I know, it moves around. Maybe I should get one of those beer cans. Also, we weren’t staying in Tacoma. The gig was in Tacoma, but for the last three days, we’ve actually been in the town of Fife. And no, I couldn’t find any “Fife Police Force” T-Shirts, but they should totally sell them.

No gig tonight, so we had a little Boys Night Out...sort of.

The story actually starts a couple of months ago. At the end of my first tour, Gig, Mike and I were driving from Illinois back to California. One of our stop-overs was Wendover, Nevada (as regular readers of this site may remember). Mike went out that night, and at one of the casinos came across a band from Seattle. Mike being Mike, he naturally made friends, with promises of getting together when we hit Seattle.

So, we're here, and another group of Mike's new friends from a previous tour, pre-Kennan, are working a Jam Night at Jazzbone's, the club we're playing in tomorrow. So Ian, a guitarist from Seattle came by the hotel, and Jeff, Mike and I got a ride to the club, where we got a little star treatment, and the four of us jammed with The Red Hot Blues Sisters, Mike's buddies.

Here again, the chance to go out and play music outside of the regular gig is a gift! We really got to stretch out and jam tonight, and everybody had a great time, musicians and audience alike. Ian MacKamey is a real nice guy and a great guitarist. Teri Ann Wilson is a great guitarist who also plays a great 'ringleader', leading people through changes. Suze Sims can bring it and sing it! Even better than that, she's one of those people that is so full of love and happiness that you just want to be around her.

People came and went, different people sang, but the whole thing grooved! Hard! And Mike once again illustrates that it's good to be nice and make friends. We had a fun night, instead of laying around the hotel, and we made nice and greased the wheels with the staff for tomorrow night's show.

Tacoma, Washington. We got here last night, a hotel on a 'Business Strip' that runs along Highway 5. There's actually a lot of hotels, strip malls, fast food joints, and, ofcourse, a Casino. Mike and I wandered down to the Casino to get a bite last night, and soak up the "American Casino Experience". Well, just a little. But that's enough for me.

Along the main road, I noticed signs posted on the street lights designating the road as a "Volcano Evacuation Route". The signs run each way, and remind me of the "Hurricane Evacuation Route" signs that run on either side of St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans. The more I pondered having to evacuate from a Volcano, the more I thought I'd better check out my surroundings. Being a good musician on my day off, I was at the Laundrymat taking care of my dirty clothes, and there was a Washington State map. I could find Seattle and Tacoma, and I could find Mt. Rainier, but standing outside, I coudn't find it, and figured it was behind the hills or somewhere else out of view.

Later, I decided I'd wander down the street to grab some lunch. The beautiful sunshine from the morning had given away to some dark, dark skies making their way up from the south, and I figured I'd better hurry to beat the rain. Coming back, I was checking out the dark behind me and looking to the horizon where the sun itself seemed to be running north to escape the coming deluge, and that's when I saw it; HUGE...really, really huge. My mountains in the Bay Area are nothing. The sun illuminating one side of it's snow covered expanse, clouds covering it's peak.

And suddenly, I feel so dumb, because how did I not see it? It's pretty damn big. I'd seen Rainier from an airplane once. Well, the bit that stuck up above all the clouds, at least. From the ground though, it looks unreal - like a matte painting from a movie. I would imagine that even if it started spewing hot lava, it would be hard to turn and run, because it would still be so beautiful to look at.

Not that I really want to find out.

Let's discuss Whistler for a moment. In the not-too-distant future, most people will become very familiar with Whistler, because Vancouver is the site of the 2010 Winter Olympics, and the Skiing and who knows what else will be held at Whistler.

Whistler is the kind of place I like to do gigs at, because I'd never go there otherwise. I don't ski. Or snowboard. Or mountain bike down ski slopes. I don't buy ski clothes, either. When travelling, I tend to favor places with history, like cities, over recently built resorts. Walking around the village in the drizzly, cold rain, with Fleece Vests for sale outnumbering actual people by close to 4, 376 to one, it's easy imagining a bustling crowd for the 2010 games.

There's lots of work going on, from hotel construction and expansion, to road widening leading up the mountain. It's a very beautiful place, and I'll enjoy watching the Winter Olympics from the comfort of my living room, warm and cozy.

So, it's back to the states now, after a brief stay at the border. We were stopped by the Line Monitor and sent inside, which caused a bit of confusion as to why. The officer at the desk said, "Let me go check with the officer on what exactly his thoughts were here."

He came back in, and while we were seated across the room, he was telling one of his fellow officers "I'm not wild about this. Sometimes these guys feel like they have to stop bands, because they're, well, bands. In my experience, it's not warranted, because these guy know we're looking at them." We were soon on our way to Tacoma, where we don't actually play until Thursday (this being Tuesday). But really, what kind of trouble could we get into with days off?

Sidebar; Sitting around watching Election Returns.

Yay! For the most part, that is. Maybe we can get back to a system of Checks and Balances and away from the Proto-Dictatorship. Maybe it's not 1984 after all.

And yes Jon, I voted Absintee before I left.

I know; cheap title.

Victoria. Everyone said "Victoria is so great! You'll really like it!" Rain rain rain rain rain. Oh, and freezing cold.

Well, at least to my thin California blood.

I've said this before; for the most part, we're going to be playing someplace cool, in front of a good crowd, so most gigs gets ranked by other factors, like accomodations, or people we come in comntact with. Based on the latter, Victoria qualifies as a cool gig thanks to guys like Michael the sound guy and Chris the chef, both from the Central Bar. Nice guys who treated us great. Chris makes damn good food, and lots of it.

Then, we made our way via Ferry back to mainland Vancouver and headed up the mountain for Whistler. Yet another place where people get this silly grin and say "You'll like Whistler!"

Whistler is a ski resort, basically a shopping village surrounded by hotels all catering to wealthy Canadian skiiers and snowborders. The band played some Epic Shows here last January, and two nights were booked in anticipation of another steller engagement.

One problem; there's no snow! Just a huge rain front. Wait, a freezing rain front. Yeah, that's it.

There's two ways to look at this; One is the "I'm homesick and pretty damn unimpressed by all this" way, where you complain about how cold the club is while you sit around for a two-and-a-half hour sound check, how the room only has one bed up in the loft and I'm sleeping on a sofa bed, how the crowds never materialize because A.) No snow, and B.) It's Sunday and Monday night (duh).

The other, positive way, and the one I try to keep in mind is that I'm pretty damn fortunate to have a gig on Sunday and Monday night, much less one in as beautiful a spot as this. There's a lot of musicians, some better than me, not playing anywhere or making any money. The crowd wasn't that bad; it filled up pretty well soon after we started. The staff here at the Adara has been great. Stay positive.

I also didn't realize how many people I know up in the Nothwest. I'm hoping to see my cousins, who I haven't seen in years, in Bellingham. We're going to Spokane and I'm trying to get a chance to see an old buddy Patrick Treadway. A family friend, Pat Sullivan has extended a Sleepover Offer in Oregon, and I have friends, extended family, and internet aquaintances all over the two states. Social butterfly!

From here, I'm not sure of Internet access. Tomorrow we leave Canada and have two days off to get to Tacoma. That means "cheapest motels possible" for a bit. Not that that means no access in and of itself. Here at the fanciest place we've stayed, access cost me $12 Canadian for 24 hrs., and I only bought one day. We'll see.

Tonight's gig, here in Nanaimo, was at The Queen's. A very cool place, with a big big stage, huge sound system, ample dance floor, and an extensive bar. The managment gave us all T-Shirts and Baseball Hats! Swag!

The show as great, with a ton of dancers right in front. Pretty high energy compared to other B.C. shows we've done. I'm not implying that Canadians don't rock, just that they're a tad more reserved at the beginning of the shows. Maybe they're just cold.

The funny thing was after we played. I guess the place is usualy a Disco, and they were playing music and a few people were trying to get the dance floor started, but it was pretty sparse. Until they dropped the Bryan Adams "Summer of '69", and the place exploded! Dance floor; packed! Instantly!

The magic of Bryan Adams in his native country. An awesome power that, hopefully, will only be used for good.

November 3rd, 12:01AM

Cumberland, Vancouver Island. That’s in Canada.

We got up this morning and headed north for the Ferry Terminals. It was one of those big, drive on in Ferry’s, and the crossing was beautiful. Rocky shores in the forest, and when you round the first corner you see all the hillsides dotted with big, impressive houses. It’s like Sausalito on a bigger scale. I grabbed a window seat, listened to some music and enjoyed the view while drifting in and out of consciousness.

I’d say “lulled to sleep by the rocking of the boat”, but the Ferry was so big, I don’t think it really rocked. It was more like a moving island. There were a couple of restaurants, a video game parlor, and a store selling souvenirs and sportswear. I didn’t really look around, but I had a flash of the movie “The Ring”, where the horse gets loose on the Ferry deck and wreaks havoc, but I think that was a smaller boat.

We’re on the Island for the next couple of days, with gigs in Nanaimo and Victoria, then back to the mainland for two gigs in Whistler.

Tonight’s show here at the Waverly was a good one. The Waverly is a funky, old neighborhood bar and restaurant, and we have rooms right up stairs. No Internet, but I’ve got a television. Right now I’m watching some crazy movie, the name of which I don’t know, with Rod Steiger, Heather Graham, Louis Nye, Lauren Hutton, and Isaac Hayes, who talks in a high pitched, baby-like voice. The only reason mention it is so I can remember to find out what the hell this is. It’s got a serious Roger Corman vibe.

We played the Yale Hotel last night, a venerable old Vancouver Blues Bar where everybody has graced the stage from one time to another. Just a little over a week ago, Terry Hanckk played here, which means my friend guitarist Johnny Cat was here, as was the King of the Crockett Bassists, Fly Brooks.

An aside; Fly Brooks never recognizes me. I've introduced myself to him about eight times...pretty much every time I've talked to him. He even called me to sub for him once on a local gig (I was booked). Still, "Hi, I'm Kennan...bass player...Crockett..." He's a great player though, so I still try to steal his stuff whenever I see him play!

The Yale has several things going for it; 1.) It's one block from the Hotel, so even in the freezing cold, you can walk. 2.) They have their own back line, so I didn't have to carry anything but my bass! 3.) Start at 8:00, done by 11:00.

After the gig, I was a little hungry - not "a whole meal" hungry, just a little, so I crossed the street to the 7/11 for a Coke and a snack. Now, there's no way I'm going to touch one of those Hot Dogs in the weird 'hot roller machine', so I was kind of looking around when I spotted good old "Cup-O-Soup", and remembered seeing one of those Hot Water pots in my closet.

Perfect!

Fortunately, I carry a knife and fork in my toiletries bag - a lesson learned on an earlier tour - for just such an occasion. So there I was, having a yummy, not-too-heavy, warm in my belly Cup-O-Soup in my room by quarter to twelve!

Today, the good news is it's warmed up a little. The bad news is that it's warmed up because it's raining. We have to drive to Cumberland to play a place that has no website to help us find them, and because there seems to be a Car Ferry involved, Yahoo Maps can't help us. Should be interesting.

A tale of two cities;

The day started with a drive to SFO through commute traffic, which took about an hour. (Thanks baby!) The Alaska Airlines counter was gloriously free of lines, or any other customers. Having already checked in online the night before, I just had to show my Passport and check my bags. Then it was off to the Security Checkpoint. I've been through a few of these lately, and if my experiance this morning is any indication, SFO has to be one of the best. LOTS of people actually working! The line flows line water. After a wait at the gate doing some people watching, I got on the emptyest plane I've ever been on. I swear, I didn't count, but there couldn't have been more than twelve passengers. The crew announced we were under a "Light Load Rule", which meant that we couldn't change seats because we were assigned particular seats for weight and balance. It didn't really matter, since everyone pretty much had all the room you could ask for.

Upon arrival in Vancouver, I had to take quite a hike to Passport Control, and immediately got in a giant line going nowhere. There were hundreds of people funneling down to about six open desks, and every once and a while, this little woman in uniform would open a different 'path' in the line organizer and you'd move to a different line. I guess there was a method to her madness, but I don't know if it really saved any time. When I finally got to the line, they sent me to another department. First I had to collect my bags; suitcase laying on the carousel and bass across the baggage hall laying on the oversize ramp. Then back to Canadian Immigration to stand in line. Twenty minutes later, I'm at the window, armed with my Passport, a copy of John's "You may enter" form, a printout of the itenerary, the all-important Canadian "Labor Market Opinion" Number, and, fortunately, all the patience in the world.

Judging by all this, Canada must have a real problem with musicians coming in to the country and becoming terrorists, or something. My work visa cost me $150 Canadian, and I was in customs for a total of an hour and a half. After another hour waiting for/riding on the Airporter Bus I was at the lovely Quality Inn at False Creek. I beat the band here! Apparently, someone, and I won't say who, (but really, who else could it be?) wasn't entirely truthful about past indescretions with the law, and the border patrol decided he could come in afterall but only after paying a $200 fine. See, they don't care about what youthful shenanigans you've done in your past, as long as you're totally honest with them about it, and make it clear you've seen the error of your ways. When I was being questioned, the guy asked "Are you single, married, or happily married?" And was serious.

It's probably also a by-product of having an idiot government in the States. Nobody's very thrilled with us these days.

Oh! Apparently the 'Columbia' comes from the city's proximetry to the Columbia River, and not neccesarily Britains yearning for it's own shining golden city.