The Shirley Years part four

In December of 1977, Shirley called me with news of a tour in Atlantic Canada starting the first week of January. Very popular in the Maritimes, she was to headline nine shows. We needed a band. I called a drummer I knew, my old friend Gary Craig and he suggested a bass player, Bob Wilson, and a guitarist, Paul Corbett. These were great players, and all were free to do it. 

Two weeks before Christmas, we went into rehearsal and got an excellent tight pop sound with an edge of jazz. Jazz had been an important part of Shirley’s eclectic repertoire for quite a while. She had a real feel for it. The band even worked up an arrangement of a Weather Report tune to use as an opener for the show. 

I hired another friend to be our driver/soundman/roadie, Bill Payne, and the entourage was complete. On January 2nd, we loaded up our rental van, climbed aboard, and headed east toward Campbellton, New Brunswick.

Mikey Becomes CFO

 For this project, I wore more than one hat. Keyboard player and tour manager dealing directly with the promoter and taking care of the finances. I based the entire budget on our guarantees for eight shows. That was the bare minimum to break even on the trip. We had a fair share of the door, and I knew that Shirley would have no problem filling the seats under normal circumstances. Still, it was the wrong time of year for weather and money (people were getting their Christmas credit card bills), so it made sense to keep a worst-case scenario in mind. 

After stopping for the night in Quebec City (it was fun, they were already preparing for the annual Winter Carnival, which remains, to this day, the only interesting thing to do in all of Canada during February), we rolled into Campbellton around supper time on the 3rd.

I Could Be Exiled

I know I’m going to get into trouble for that shot at my country but spare me your admonitions, fellow Canadians and instead give me examples as to why I’m full of BS. Leave them in the comments section. This could be fun, and also, you may be informing the American readers about something special taking place in your province or territory.

Back to the tour

We lucked out on the weather until the very last day, something I was thankful for, but as feared, the shows were a tough sell with everybody blowing the budget in December. 

So I needed those guarantees. All had been paid in advance except for one, which I was supposed to collect the first night. The tour had already shrunk by two shows when Shirley’s manager called and warned us that if we didn’t have all the advance money yet, we’d better get it quick because the promoter was getting nervous. 

This was about halfway into the tour. I don’t recall which city we were in. Shirley and I arrived later than usual. The PA, lights, and band gear were right in the middle of set up. The promoter was standing on the stage, and as I approached I motioned for his attention. 

Exchanging Pleasantries

“We’re doing great with the weather eh? No big storms in the long-range forecast, ya gotta love it”

“No kidding,” he returned casually.

“Listen,” I said, “I’m going to need the deposit for that second last show. I was supposed to ask you for it back in Campbellton.”

“I’m cancelling that show, so there’ll be no deposit” he informed me. There was a pregnant pause as we just stared at each other.

“Excuse me, you can’t do that,” I finally said as the shock ebbed a little, “The agreement was that eight of the ten or eleven shows had a guaranteed deposit. We wouldn’t have left Toronto without that assurance.”

I recall that he shrugged or threw up his hands to indicate there was nothing he could do. I went ballistic. I yelled to get the attention of everyone working:

“Stop everything. There might not be a show tonight.” 

I turned back to the promoter.”If you break your end of the deal, we’re free to do the same.”  I’m paraphrasing here. There were a lot of F words. Poor Shirley had never seen this side of me. 

Keep In Mind I Was Sober

Maybe it’s an Irish thing. The angrier I get, the clearer I think. I was going to say “the more articulate I get” but those F-bombs are noisy and won’t get anyone a job as poet laureate.

A Calculated Bluff 

I threatened to pull out of the remaining four shows. Even though I’m sure the promoter wanted to throttle me, he stopped to do some quick math and agreed to pay the guarantee at the end of the show. And he did. In cash. In a bag. 

“Oh great” I thought, “With my luck I’ll get mugged before I can get to the bank tomorrow”. A lot of people knew I had the money. That bag of cash slept right in the bed with me that night. I must have gotten up and checked the lock on my hotel room door a dozen times. 

The rest of the tour went very smoothly and amazingly the weather was on our side until the very last night. The final two shows were in Moncton and Essex NB. We kept our hotel rooms in Moncton as Essex was less than an hour’s drive from there.

Snowzilla Decides We’ve Been Getting Off Too Easy 

There was an “end of tour” party at the promoter’s home after the show. What started as a light snowfall at the beginning of the party, and we only stayed an hour, had turned into a full scale blizzard by the time we left. We just barely made it back to Moncton.

By morning there was more than a foot of snow with another foot predicted. There was no way we were going to be heading back to Toronto that day or the next. 

I remember being in the lobby of the hotel and a grizzled old maritimer walked in from outside with a white frozen beard and so many clothes on he looked like the Michelin Man. He saw me watching the weather reports on the TV and said: 

“It’s nothin’ but a flurry. I’ve seen worse. Why back in 57….”

I cut him off with an impatient gesture. “I’m trying to listen to the report. And this aint no fucking flurry!” 

I knew Shirley had to get home for some event she was committed to, and we’d probably have to pay the band to stay an extra few days, so Bill and I decided to put everyone on a plane and we’d take care of the truck and equipment. We shovelled off the van, got everyone in and made a very slow trip to the airport.

Well duh. The airport was closed. Quick, back across town to the railway station. Trains don’t care about snow. We had an hour before the Quebec and Ontario train left. We made it. They got to Toronto the next day. 

Bill and I just resigned ourselves to waiting out the storm. After two days, it was still snowing, and we were getting bored, so like 20 something idiots, we checked out of the hotel and took our chances with the Trans Canada Highway. 

Glisser Dans La Belle Provence

For most of the 760 km (472 miles for those who don’t speak Canadian) from Moncton to Quebec City it was sheer ice. That part of the trip would ordinarily have taken nine or ten hours. It was almost double that for us that day.

The Following Four Months

We kept the project going, doing concerts and show bars around Southern Ontario until late May of 1978. There were a few personnel changes. Shirley’s brother Brent played bass for a while. Near the end we had Hap Rodderman and Rick Gratton (rhythm section of famed Rough Trade) on bass and drums.

I spent the rest of 1978 touring with Marc Jordan and David Bradstreet. March of 1979 Shirley was ready to start a new band. 

Next, In Part Five

Why should we hire a lead guitarist? Shirley can do it. We’ll take the money we saved and get a second keyboard player!