I was a guitar player – a working musician in the jazz world – playing, teaching, writing and recording, both in Canada and the U.S. I had albums out. I had two widely distributed Jazz books placed with major publishers. They wrote me up in Guitar Player Magazine and International Musician. My life appeared to be working out just fine.
Except that it wasn’t. One of my horses, as it turned out, was going unfed. Billy – the rebel rouser, the adventurer, the shit kicker, was mighty unhappy – tossing his traces, rolling his eyes and slobbering all over the furniture, and it was clear that something had to be done.
That something ended up being a lock, stock and barrel move to the Yukon border, where I built a cabin and proceeded to live a ‘wood and water’ life off the grid. I knew the possibility of marrying two dreams as diverse as ‘bush rat’ and ‘jazz guitar player’ was unlikely, but I thought I’d give it a shot. It turned out to be one magnificent adventure.
(A big kiss on the head to Lynn Johnston (of the famed “For Better Or For Worse” strip) for the brilliant comic art.)