Gary'sGlimpses

 I remember that night vividly. Bernie Fiedler, a well-known figure in the Yorkville music scene, brought Joni Mitchell to my after-hours club. Bernie and I were good friends, and he often frequented my club, sometimes bringing along his star attractions from the Riverboat coffeehouse. The Riverboat was an iconic venue, part of a prestigious circuit that included notable places like Detroit’s Chess Mate and New York’s Bitter End. Situated below street level, the Riverboat was an intimate setting that seated 120 people in red booths, surrounded by pine walls and brass portholes. Many great names in music had performed there, from Howlin’ Wolf to James Taylor.  It was one of those quiet nights when Bernie walked in with Joni Mitchell. We sat around, enjoying drinks and engaging in conversations that flowed naturally. After about an hour, Joni, with her signature poise and quietly engaging demeanor, asked if we wanted her to sing some songs from her new record. Of course, I jumpe...

  This was in 1979 I had just quit the booze can biz and was transgressing into the Movie biz.  A Night with Leonard ut play ▶ + Save to documents My usual haunt was Club 22 at the Windsor Arms, a spot where I always felt at ease, my own enclave of comfort and confidence. One evening, as I meandered into the familiar space, the faces that typically welcomed me were absent, so I settled for a drink at the bar. While scanning the room, a lone figure caught my attention—Leonard Cohen. With uncharacteristic boldness, I approached and introduced myself. "Hey Leonard, I'm Gary LeDrew, a friend of Lesley McDonells. She often speaks of you." Leonard’s eyes immediately sparkled with recognition. "The lovely Lesley. Have you seen her lately?" he inquired. I mentioned that I hadn’t seen much of her since she married that St. Nicholas fellow. This exchange about our mutual friend quickly eased us into further conversation. Being from Montreal, I shared my personal history...

 **Meeting John Allan Cameron at the Horseshoe (1975)** The year was 1975, and the iconic Horseshoe Tavern on Queen Street in Toronto was buzzing with energy. That was the night I met John Allan Cameron, a fellow Cape Bretoner and a legendary figure in the folk and Celtic music scene. I had recently opened an after-hours bar right across the street from the Horseshoe, a cozy spot where musicians and music lovers could unwind after a gig. Between John’s sets, I mustered the courage to introduce myself, sharing my Cape Breton roots. Our conversation flowed easily, filled with the usual Cape Breton inquiries of "who you know" and "where you're from." There was an instant connection, and we spent the night talking about our shared homeland, music, and life. What started as a simple introduction developed into a genuine friendship. Over the years, John and I often crossed paths in the vibrant musical scene of Toronto. He always took the time to stop, chat, and catc...