2003 03 24
The most talented ears in Toronto had finally
healed. It was March, spring was in the air and you could smell
the slaughterhouse on Wellington. A couple blocks north on Niagara
things were looking up.
Jack Breakfast was late. He was always late, he never figured on
stopping at the LCBO, but he always did. He was always nervous before
these sessions, and Jack had the idea that scotch would help. He
always drank too fast and would be feeling woozy by suppertime.
Maybe he should have bought the good stuff but he always showed
up with the cheap swill. But things worked out alright.
Dont be so modest JB, said James Paul, this
new albums so hot itll fry an egg!
Yeah, shes a real hellcat, said Breakfast, maybe
well win some Junos, what do you think?
Oh, at least six or seven, said James Paul.
Things were good at The Rogue, but Jack still had trouble sleeping.
James Paul was no stranger to this sort of thing, having suffered
himself. He was sympathetic.
Although lately, Ive been sleeping better.
Lets keep it that way, JP. Anyhow, hows Tallulah?
The kids an angel. She loves The Beatles, and shes
only two, James would brag. She seems to like Ringo
Breakfast was terrified of compression. He couldnt sleep.
He couldnt eat. Even the Amato Pizzeria menu couldnt
lift him from this stupor. He had to get help.
Dont be ridic, said Doc. Id think
someone like you would like that sort of thing, what with all your
squawking and noisy bits and all.
Natch, said Jack, still,I cant help but
It was a cold and rainy March 22nd when they finished the album.
The war had begun. The air was ripe with the fresh smell of mud.
When the wind came from the south the stink of the abattoir drifted
by. Jack Breakfast and James Paul drew deeply on their Cohibas and
exhaled. Breakfast didnt worry anymore, and James Paul was
never worried in the first place.
Well probably sell ten thousand copies, Jack said.
At least, said James.
Hey JP, pour me some of the good stuff.
Visit Jack's web site - www.jackbreakfast.com