We Are As The Times Are

We Are As The Times Are - A Review

I just finished reading a book by a friend and former colleague Ken Rockburn called We Are As The Times Are. The book's a delightful, entertaining and bang-on researched history of the Ottawa coffee house Le Hibou through it's various incarnations first as a walk-up on Rideau Street, followed by another walk-up on Bank Street and finally a walk-in, if you will, on Susses Drive. That's the same street the Prime Minister lives on but that's where the comparisons stop.

Ken takes us through the various owners of Le Hibou and many of the artists that passed through its doors both as performers and paying patrons. The place started out as a showcase for local talent, largely of the folkie variety as well as poetry readings by among others Irving Layton. It soon morphed into a blues haven showcasing such acts as Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, Muddy Waters, you name it. It's other mainstay was folk-rock and rock acts. Gordon Lightfoot, Neil Young, Tom Rush and Van Morrison all graced its stage.

And the after-hours stories were amazing as well. Joni Mitchell meeting up with Jimi Hendrix, for example.

I have to thank Ken for such an insightful look at this Ottawa, nay Canadian, institution. I was a young kid living in Ottawa south and the place just didn't register with me. Sure I saw many of the acts that played at Le Hibou at weekend dances at places such as Pineland and Parkdale and a church basement on Alta Vista where I saw Bruce Cockburn and the late Coleen Peterson in 3s A Crowd. But from what I've read I missed out on an the electric and electric atmosphere that Hibou was known for.

How deep did Ken's research go? Here's one example. One day local musician Terry Gillespie and Muddy Waters were bonding, shooting the breeze, in the Green Room on the so-called Great Red Couch, a piece of furniture that every artist who performed at Le Hibou must have sat their weary ass down on at one time or another. Gillespie remembers this moment once the club had closed down and wants to abscond with the couch. His girlfriend, though, has other ideas. Terry was beside himself. Why, you ask? Turns out Muddy had farted on the couch that day they shared that piece of furniture. So now that couch, and Muddy's fart, are lost to the dump hills of time.

A great read, Ken. Five stars.

My Back Pages - November

I know, I know, I know I should have reported in before now. But sometimes real life just gets in the way. I attempted 5 books in November. I say attempted because I slapped a big DNF (did not finish) on Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon. I just can't seem to get into this guy. It's the second or third of his I've given up on, Not so the other four, starting with a biography of Stephen Stills called Change Partners. This followed by a hilarious biography of the guy responsible for National Lampoon called A Stupid and Futile Gesture - How Doug Kenney and National Lampoon Changed Comedy Forever. I ended the month reading yet another biography, this one of the man behind Rolling Stone magazine,. It was called Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner and Rolling Stone Magazine. A fascinating read. So last month I hit the magic number 50 I'd imagined for myself back in January. If I roll this month into my yearly total I'm at 54 books. And I still hav...

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! ...

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.

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