Heading east out of Thunder Bay, these are the best roads I've seen since Haida Gwaii. Well, it's not that the roads are good, it's just that they are dry, not covered in snow. I sip an extra large coffee. I've got J.B. Lenoir on the stereo. I'm always just floored by this stuff. He was always pretty neat, but his later stuff grabs me and won't let go. Dave Jonnason was playing some for me last night at the jam. I don't know if I can master the timing like that or not. If JB had not passed I believe he might have become a huge star, a shining beacon in the civil rights movement. He brought content and development to the blues, direction, purpose. There's that word again. I think JB was becoming a very purposeful singer and writer. There's always a party around the blues. It's healing music, but I am reminded by JB that it can also carry the seeds of change. Broonzy knew this. And you can sense the respect and dignity that Willie Dixon accorded JB in his later recordings.Vic and I stayed up way too late last night, and then did coffee and breakfast all morning with his partner, Deb. Again, I'm struck by the hospitality, the connection made. I left feeling as if I had known these folks for years. Feeling like old friends. I guess that as a traveller I make my friends where I can, and where I am. On this trip I am certainly struck by the quality and depth of the friendships made along the way. I am very thankful. Knowing all these folks are out there makes it easier for me to give it my best every night.
That's Lake Superior in winter. Just a rare, sheltered corner. She's a wild lake, really a freshwater sea. Those who know her respect her power.
It's a quiet, Sunday night show in the little village of Rockport. My hosts are very kind. We drink red wine, have dessert. I play the blues. A nice sounding room, so I perform without mics. The night starts and ends early, so I'm off to the wrapper before I know it.
It's winter alright. Tomorrow the Sault, the next day— home.
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