I never knew what he was talking about I just heard him talking and thought this is his sound. Like a dog barking that won’t quit and there comes a time you just turn off your annoyance. The woman who wrote that book, the one I copy for students, addressed writing as something to be practiced unedited, to jump into the freedom of unfiltered writing leads to becoming succinct and specific. I know she’s right but how to explain it. Perhaps the belief that the capability to explain things is overrated. There was a guy years ago at the afternoon Cameron gigs who played the saw and dressed in older suits who wasn’t very articulate when the playing stopped and we tried to make small talk but he ruled when the music was on, taking the lead or taking backroads but always making statements I never heard anyone else come close to. Stayed with me for years. I didn’t know his son but he approached me at the Tranzac last month and said his father died but left a few recordings and would I want one. It was good fortune and I’ve had it playing each time I get in the car. Solo saw by Alphonse U later. Some of the best names are jokes and some of the best jokes are names. Gave a young man from Nigeria a ride from the University of Western Ontario to Toronto last Wednesday and he told me many stories about corruption in Lagos. London, Ontario is the only place he’s been outside of Nigeria. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. The predictability, the infrastructure, the schooling at Fanshawe and the opportunities for his future. He said one time the police kidnapped him and held him hostage for about $25 that had to desperately be borrowed by family. He said there is no number for calling the police, not like 911 here. When he understood what I do he asked if I like country music. I wasn’t sure where he was headed with that query. I said yes. He said I love country music. We spent the rest of the drive between EmmyLou Harris, Hank Williams and the Cameron Family Singers Spotify playlist.