Swinging a Canadian Club; and a Bucket Full of Poutine 

On the tour bus like a rockstar! I don’t recognize anyone in my entourage, and I’m surprised so many groupies dress in sweat pants and Ugg boots,  but whatever. It’s been a pretty huge couple of days; I’m beat, and I’m glad they’re all pretending to ignore me.

Caught the 6AM flight from NY yesterday, having come straight from work. The only person crankier than me on the flight was the two year old sitting next to me. It was an impressive seven hour marathon of screaming and flailing, and the kid made a fair racket too. I arrived gritty-eyed and dishevelled in charming Vancouver, but happy to be free. To the hotel for a quick lie down, then a 30-second stroll to Frankie’s Italian Kitchen. 

  
 A few months ago, Frankie’s was just a classy Italian restaurant with a faintly Mafia-esque name. Then Jazz impresario Cory Weeds moved in. For 13 years, Cory ran the esteemed Jazz Cellar in Vancouver: a top notch jazz club that hosted countless jazz legends; and even Hempton made an appearance shortly before it shut down. Coincidentally. Cory has now turned Frankies into a comfortable, welcoming jazz room, with great sound, piano, drums, ambience- everything one wants in a club. 

 Joining me on the stage were three fabulous local players: Jodi Proznick at the bass, Miles Black on piano, and Jesse Cahill at the drums. Time didn’t allow for a rehearsal, so a talk-through was all they got- and they nailed everything. I couldn’t have asked for a more swinging group. The crowd was smiley and receptive, and the beer was cold and restorative. I also got to spend a bit of time with the Canadian wing of the Hempton clan, and talk cricket with Jesse. 

 After the show, I retreated to my hotel bar for a nightcap, and ended up with a bucket-sized bowl of Poutine. This is a Candian specialty (actually a Montreal thing, I think), and I’d never tried it. It’s essentially french fries and gravy, with some kind of cheese curd splattered about. I was underwhelmed. I think one might have to be a lot drunker than I was to fully appreciate Poutine’s singular depth and complexity. 

  
 Then it was bed, and now it’s bus. I’ll be in Seattle in an hour or so- tonight I’m at a joint called Boxley’s in North Bend, with a whole new band. I’ll tell you all about it…
Cheers, Nick

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