North and West

I've been heading north on the Alaska highway. The road is full of big trucks, I don't think I saw a single car out there today. It would be an understatement to say that I felt small. I felt like a fly in a kitchen full of fly-swatting mothers. You know the kind, always worried that a little fly will somehow ruin dinner. It won't. All it will be is annoying... Kind of like a folk-singer driving a little hyundai on a road that seems reserved for Peterbuilts and Macs... ug.

On tuesday morning I was driving the yellow-head highway, Just west of Russel Manitoba, when my phone began beeping and burping memos of congratulations. I just about hit the ditch when I finally realized what the fuss was about: My latest record (Love Songs For The Last Twenty) has been nominated for a Juno... Shit. Seriously? I had to borrow money from my mom to pay for the application. That's how hilarious this is.

I'm pretty excited about it though... I need to get some naked pictures taken or something, try and do cook up some kind of rich blooded publicity stunt. Maybe not the naked pictures... I'll have to find my thinking cap, then put it on.

Last night I stayed in Fort St. John. I have some memories here. Memories of summer work, diesel trucks and long days. Somewhere near the hills of Wonowon B.C my old faithful shovel sits deep in the snow. It's probably rusted by now, and I'm sure that she misses me dearly. I made twenty grand with that damn shovel, and all I could do to say thanks was leave her on some God forsaken cut-block where I was attacked by wasps.

Tonight I'm staying in Fort Nelson B.C. My last stop before the Yukon. To be frank I don't always get along too well with these northern towns. They feel dirty, too many men working for wages that can't be sustained. It's oil. It makes me worried. But I've worked jobs like this, and don't get me wrong, I'm not claiming a position of moral superiority or something... That ain't me These towns make me realize that I'm bound up in it all, I just buy into the illusion that there is a better line. but everything can't help but cast a shadow. Some are just longer than others.

There are no easy answers, there's no free lunch. For some reason I see some hope in that...

But hey, you can't trust a Juno nominee. Especially one who is left-handed.

The photo above is one I took wandering around the High Bluff Stock Farm in Inglis Manitoba... Those Jackson's are new friends of mine (at least I hope they like me...) The calf was just a couple days old. It was my last day in Manitoba... I found out about the Juno about 15 minutes after I was hanging out with her. I wonder if Erin Jackson thought to mention it to her... If I was a young cow I'd want to know that I was spending time with a world famous folk singer. (sarcasm)