And we’re off…Adios Canada!

At some “gawd-awful” hour in the morning, Red Light Saints are gonna wake up and meet at their usual rehearsal spot downtown.

It will be dark, it will be cold…and more than likely, RLS will be sipping a Timmy’s beverage, with the last remanence of sleep lingering in their bodies and minds.

Danny will take the lead on loading the Van  for the drive to Montreal (as per usual) . With the skill and precision of a Tetris champ , he will stack every piece of luggage, equipment and “carry-on” in the back of the Caravan and still have enough space for 5 weary musicians to huddle together and listen to the CBC in mono.

In Montreal, we reverse the packing process and load our goods on rickety, squeaky airport dollies…mine, I’m sure will have a wonkey wheel (…I always get that one!!) At this point, fully awake and anticipating some sweet tropical weather after last night’s generous dump of snow… Canada’s parting gift to RLS…I didn’t even bother shovelling the driveway today.

We have a little “parking lot celebration” as we leave our heavy coats and boots in Johnny’s van…won’t be needing those for a bit. We do the “airport shuffle”!!!

We check in….we wait… and probably wait some more. We don’t mind…Usually we’d be working by now :)

We’ll probably get some funny looks with all the gear we got….we are obviously not going on a vacation to play ”No Woman, No Cry”  around a campfire with some buddies and some beers…

By rock standards, its a pretty tight and compact load…but for airport standards…it raises some eyebrows.

All approved and officialized, we see our luggage and guitars slowly plodding away on the conveyor, through the little black rubber  flaps and into the care of complete strangers, who you hope and pray know the difference between Havana and Alabama…

I can live without deodorant, toothpaste, socks, my copy of “The music lesson” by Victor Wooten, my flip flops, my mp3 player (with my vocal warm-ups), my favorite shirt and possibly my Tums (though probably not…)…but, please…por favor…make sure my Fender f-75 acoustic lands safely in Havana and into my ever-loving arms….

Feeling slightly helpless, but much lighter…I’m imagining that RLS will scramble for a last minute Timmy’s again… partially cause we’ll miss the familiar mediocrity of a double double from “Timmy Hoe’s”…and partially ’cause that’s what Canadians do when their bored…it’s like a localized nervous tick or something.

Tickets in hand, they start calling gates and shuffling tourists in floral prints and knee-shorts on to the plane, hoping to shed a little stress…a little pastiness off their winterized complexions…to get warm and lounge about the beach with peach coloured slushy, girlish drinks.

…sounds good to us, but put in daily Rock Concerts and T.V interviews and now your talking our language… (We ask johnny to change his floral prints and knee-shorts…he reluctantly agrees….no promises on the slushy girl drinks… )

On the plane, we strap in…read the survival card with all the happy little drowning/crashing people inflating the yellow donut around their neck…we listen to the Stewardess do her spiel,(…they haven’t changed that shit in 20 years…the airline industry needs new writers…badly!…I hear M Night Shyamalam is free…though a creepy surprise ending is usually not welcome at thousands of feet in the air…)

The Captain gives us his soothing monologue…something about ” it’s warm there…it’s a few hours away… enjoy something or another”…His name is Barry or something equally uninteresting and inconsequential.

…not listening…I’m busy filming passengers with my new  HD camera with my super zoom on…close ups on all their little nose crusties and neck wrinkles…soft-focus….now a star swipe….everyone looks like Mick Rourke in HD.

Buckled up and the plane bounces along the runway…the snow-scape is static and fleeting, with slight variations in the off white hues and bank-depth preceptions …it speeds up…it starts to blur…that anxious exciting feeling  of escape… a force pushes you into your seat…the wheels lift …stomach drops…things get small … your ears pop … feels good … like we’re going somewhere.

And we’re off…Adios Canada!

Hey Cuba… the Saints are coming!

Stay tuned for more…

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