"Well," drawls Doc Stompin' laconically, "I'm still pissed off at radio: I've been in the business over 30 years; and, I still don't fit the format? I'd like to see and hear more Canadians on our airwaves; and, yes, I'm starting to sound like a broken record... . But, I don't think the Americans ever gave up their manifest-destiny philosophy; I think they intend, by the turn of the century, to fly their flag from the North Pole to Panama. Right now, they're trying to break us down fast and furiously with Free Trade and all that. Mulroney, of course, was definitely their biggest pawn."
The self-taught philosopher sees hope for our country; however, he fervently believes we must hunker down and smarten up: "We need to work together as a nation and speak with a unified voice. I know most Canadians are definitely patriotic; but, media are confused with this idea that everything the United States says is good for us and our governments. Our wimpy prime ministers including the present one just go over there, get patted on the head, and told to go back home and do what they've been told to do. So, I don't see anything happening as long as media are on the side of government... Everything starts from grassroots here; but, when a few people get going with something, they're not allowed to tack signs on posts, etc., etc. The odds are against our nationalists... ."
In remarkable defiance of precisely those odds, most of the black-hat man's 39 albums (including compilations) have achieved gold status while the much-anticipated first of two volumes of his autobiography, Before the Fame (Penguin), currently nestles comfortably atop the Canadian-bestseller crop (with over 20,000 copies sold before the Christmas rush). Not surprisingly, considering the lanky fellow's incredible creative energy, the publication of Before the Fame coincided with the release of Long Gone To The Yukon, a collection of 17 new tunes he penned with Gaet Lepine, the legendary bartender who gave Connors his first "break" (when he came up short a nickel on a brew at the Timmins Maple Leaf Hotel in 1964).
Exactly three years later, on 1 July 1967, Connors's famous moniker graced the marquee of Peterborough's King George Hotel for the first time: "You know," he says reflectively, "I didn't really give it a lot of thought then; but, it was actually Canada Day when I got named Stompin' Tom."
Names figure prominently in Connors's autobiography, a searing testimony to a life lived on the periphery and driven by a dream. The portrait that emerges in the work's 500-plus pages defies a deftly neat synopsis of the first 31 years of Connors's existence, partially because the man's photographic memory serves the book so well, mostly because to relay the horror, the hilarity, and the sheer hell of these before-the-fame years would rob readers of the pleasure, pain, and catharsis always attendant when one's hero triumphs over impossible odds. The page-turning, barn-burning, heart-churning achievement reveals a thick skin, tempered spirit, kind soul, and unswerving faith in this place we call home.
According to its author, writing Before the Fame in no way, shape, nor form compares with writing a song. "It's two different worlds altogether," says he, "mostly because, if you get discouraged writing a song, you can rip it up, throw it in the garbage, and start on another idea. The autobiography was always and forever present; but, you're reliving the past. I never took notes nor kept a diary; so, I kept reliving an awful lot of really sad and really happy things. It's not like writing songs. There were some very painful parts to it; but, I think it's good to do that, in a way, to face it all again. It put some things in better perspective. You never forget some things; but, you forgive them, you know?
"Initially, the publishers just wanted the 'Stompin' Tom' part in 250 pages; but, I told them to go to hell, eh? I told them I couldn't do that; I had to lay the groundwork for a lot of the stuff that happened later, especially for the stuff in the sequel."
Certainly, the stuff on Long Gone To The Yukon shimmers and shines, particularly in the context of the book. Connors says the co-write sessions proved especially inspiring for both parties: "We had our brews. We had our laughs. We stayed up all night, went to bed at seven in the morning, all that stuff."
All that stuff includes the sophisticated simplicity of the Doctor of Country Music's elegant turn of phrase and illuminates the scholar of the street (and road) too smart by half cementing his contribution to this country's music (in the same way the oeuvres of Leonard Cohen, Glenn Gould, Oscar Peterson, et. al. do). Dr. Stompin' Tom Connors, the undisputed master of his media and messages, stands as the definitive icon and iconoclast who makes alacrity of vision a celebration (and not, as *they* say, something like a crime).
Canadian poet and literary critic Judith Fitzgerald's critically acclaimed Adagios Quartet's BOOK III: Electra's Benison has just been named one of The Globe and Mail's TOP 100 BOOKS (2007).
jim condonApr 22nd, 2008 - 11:41:21
Great article! I have nominated Stompin' Tom twice for inclusion in the Toronto Walk of Fame, but no go so far. If anybody out there knows someone on that committee, tell 'em to wake up and smell the stompin' board.
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