Music Before the Money

One of the most popular songs from Jackson Browne’s Running on Empty album was the song The Load Out/Stay which told the story of how a band tears down after a concert. I can still remember the piano beginning and the forlorn lyrics about a performer who wants to keep on playing while the stage is being torn down. For most bands on the ’70’s and ’80’s the load out began thirty seconds after the last encore on Saturday night. Like the feeling in Jackson’s song we stumbled around like zombies, talking quickly with new-made friends and well-wishers as we wrapped miles of cords and lowered light booms. Cords, mikes, stands, instruments then the lights and banner; that was the order. Backing the vans up to the door was next and the whole show went neatly into the cubes in no time flat.

We always cleared out of the rooms after supper so that chore was behind us. Then it was a long goodbye to the staff and the few well-wishers that hung out to watch us pack and talk about our return. Most of the trips took us from 3:00am Sunday morning until the late afternoon. Sometimes the next gig was 20 hours away. But as sad as the goodbyes could be the feeling of the road usually took over within the first hour. Then there was this exhilaration of going to the next town, especially if we had never played there before. The sum-total of all the things we heard from other bands, and the half-lies from out agent (whose job it was to fill empty clubs with bands) would spin in our heads and the anticipation would sometimes makes us giddy. That was called “Road Food” (another novel of mine.)

Sometimes I forget many aspects of the hundreds of performances but I do have tapes to help me remember. However, I still see the load-outs because in that one or two hours the whole week ’s performances usually came to light. It was a great feeling to know that the mission was accomplished, that the crowd had been entertained.

The emotional high of the packed Saturday night was replaced by a maudlin calm and light-hearted joking amongst your mates. These were the guys with who you lived and traveled. And as long as I live - despite the bickering and spats that happened within such a confined experience - I will remember more about these guys than I will about any others outside my family.

To use the official description: “The Writers’ Federation of Nova Scotia was established in 1975 to foster creative writing and the profession of writing in Nova Scotia; to provide advice and assistance to writers at all stages of their careers; to encourage greater public recognition of Nova Scotian writers and their achievements; and to enhance the literary arts in our regional and national culture.” In my estimation, this is an underestimation. What the “fed” does is two-fold: First, to encourage its members to write; and, second, to help in the education of upcoming writers.

My first writing experience was a WFNS short story contest in which I received an honorable mention. I believe the cost was $15 to enter and you had four writers critique your story. That was amazing. I received more attention for writing than in all my previous years! I was hooked. I immediately joined and attended a parade of writing courses over the years and met many great writers.

During my sixteen years with “the Fed,” it’s executive director, Jane Buss, has been a beacon of hope during the many times I wanted to quit and join the rodeo circuit (I really was kidding!). If you asked any of the hundreds of members they will tell you the same thing. Although there are many talented workers and volunteers with the organization Jane defines “the Fed” with a positive attitude that has never diminished over the years.

What I tell writers-to-be is to cruise down to 1113 Marginal Rd., Halifax, have a coffee and pick their brains. When you come out of the building you’ll want to get home and start writing.