It's late May, summer creeping up. At the moment I'm getting ready to play a show in Los Angeles with Jackson Browne (OK,that was weird to type). It's kind of a big deal, and I'm looking forward to it, I'll admit. I think we're doing a few shows in June, actually, miles away from Sherbrooke Metro Station, where our hero will return in September.
July will find me in Vaughantown, one of two resort complexes outside Madrid, designed for Spanish corporate executives as a place to learn English from English-speaking Americans,Brits, Australians, Texans and Canadians, if you will. Not really a traditional learning setting, but that's the idea. (www.vaughantown.com)
I don't know much about it yet. On Friday, June 27, I'll be in a hotel in Madrid, ready to explore the city, shoehorn, pencil sharpener and trombone in hand. Kinda like in Montreal, but without a lot of the snow. Sunday morning will find me on a bus to a town far, far from West Avenue 37. I'll be letting you know how things go, by video and by correo electronico.
I promise, after a fashion, to post more here. You've all been so very nice to read me with so many cups of coffee, at desks and in beds all over Canada and America. I should really have written. But there've been deadlines followed by deadlines, followed by Pepsis and Pop Tarts.
You know LA is home, but, just the other day, someone gave me a Lonely Planet© book on Montreal, and there was a picture of cornice work on a house in Square St. Louis, along with a long section on the Metro. I saw it and well, I panged. I yearned, just a little.
I will write more, I'll be a better correspondent. I know you were just about to forget me, and just the other afternoon, something reminded you of me, and you thought for just a second, 'What ever happened to that guy from L.A. who used to do that Montreal blog? He was ...um, interesting."
I've missed you, too, Jacques Cartier.