Back when Dyson joined up with Shipe Band in 2000, he came from a hot Eugene local progressive funk band (with Olem Alves, Asher Fulero & Zak Johnson). Shipe music didn’t exactly scratch that prog-funk itch, so it’s good to see him returning to it. I hasten to add that he has the super-evolved chops to meet the prog agenda. And he’s singing, to boot.

What they do have, however, is a great Irish scene. Irish bands and Irish pubs. (Gentlemen from Flogging Molly reside there.) I was lucky to fall in with these folks. Ned Giblin, of Brehon Law, invited me to play Wednesdays at his pubs, J.J. Landers and R. O’Sullivan’s. So, I had regular gigs and a close look at a timeless style of music. (The influence of Ned and his cohort David Lally is bound to show on my next album.)

In Oceanside, I befriended Doug Whorly and several of his showcases at McCabe’s, where I met the lovely and talented road warrioress Jacqui Foreman. She honored me by covering my “Faith in the Man.”

It was at a Whorly showcase where my wife, Amy Wray, filmed the video of me covering The Pretender’s “Brass in Pocket.”

I didn’t bother working the L.A. scene. Too big, and like different country. But at the urging of my publicist Leona, I played a couple times at The Gypsy Den in Orange County. (Once with Trevor Davis.)

We lived down the beach from football star Junior Seau, who has a beautiful blue Pit Bull named Rocky. I mention the dog, because it was about this time that my connection to the international Pit Bull community really deepened. I was getting daily e-mails from dog lovers about my song “Pit Bull Blues,” which I gave out freely to anyone engaged in canine care and rescue. Soon, videographer Jeff Fleiss contacted me with the idea of making a video. By spring, he had hauled me up to L.A., filming me in front of the Coliseum amidst 25 Pit Bulls and their trainer, Dogman. He put it together with some excellent footage taken by Amy, and boom… there was a sweet video… still getting legs on the web.

That was one of two Shipe production videos that got made in ’09. SoCal is the land of movies, so it seemed right to film while I was there.

A most serendipitous fortune was meeting fellow Oregonian, former Eugenian and Renegade Saints fan, John Grimshaw, a filmmaker who had just produced 20 Wheels to Memphis (Adminium Films) At John G.’s direction, we made an arty video of “Yellow House.” This was one of the most enjoyable creative collaborations I’ve been a part of. He became a great friend; I hope to work with him again and again.

I didn’t have enough time to work the San Diego scene. Disappointing, because they have one of the best tiny acoustic venues on the West Coast in Lestat’s. There, I went to see my friend from Portland, Stephanie Schneiderman, another great road warrioress. (Being on the road is tough; it means a lot to have familiar faces from home show up in the audience.)

Since I was on a sabbatical, I wasn’t all business. Pleasure: Besides daily milk shakes on the pier, and Irish bands, it was zoos and deserts. Anybody who knows me knows I love the zoo and the desert. San Diego has the best zoos. And Joshua Tree National Park has the best deserts. I went to the Zoo and Wildlife Park 4 times. Joshua Tree twice. We stayed at the same place U2 stayed when they were making their groundbreaking album. (Another Irish band, you know. So I worked up “Red Hill Mining Town” and brought it back to the Irish Pubs.)

Oh, another pleasure: Dyson, my old drummer came down, and watched the Padres play the S.F. Giants.

May rolled around and we had to leave. But where to go? Yellowstone National Park, to live among bison, wolves, bears, moose, geysers and tourists. Professionally, this too seemed like a mistake. Dial-up internet, no cell phone service? But this was a childhood dream come true. Yes, work was difficult. But I was able to write a lot. And I could tour circles around Montana and Idaho, where they deeply appreciate live acoustic music. I could approach my usual Northern Idaho stomping ground from the backside, doubling the size of my familiar circuit. The drives were long, but gorgeous. I found myself gigging as much as I always do: Vino Rosso in Idaho Falls, Sandbagger’s in Pocatello, Riley’s in Helena, The Cellar in Missoula… In Boise, I got to hang with my other former drummer Scott Headrick.

In June, I came home for my most important gig of the year: Officiating at Ehren Ebbage’s wedding (to Anna), as a Universal Life Minister.

Living in Yellowstone, I didn’t feel like I was missing much. Played softball, worked out in the gym, played piano, met new people who never talked about politics or religion. And, Amy and I started filming a Yellowstone documentary.

In July, the nightmare occurred: we lost our hard drive. Every new song I had recorded from the start of the year, and the music for Amy’s film… gone! I had been pushing in new musical directions, and much of it wasn’t sticking into memory. So, losing it all really took the wind out of my sails. (The less said about that the better.)

In August, I returned home again for Tim McLaughlin’s Music Edge Camp, to teach with Ebbage & Zack. There is nothing like teaching kids for getting yourself back on track.

In October, we came home. Back to work. I had trouble with the transition–trying to re-connect with my regional circuit, re-establishing my place on NW roster, re-building my student clientele. But an invitation to speak to a mass-media class at the U of O stirred my confidence and enthusiasm. Motivated, I moved aggressively on several Shipe fronts. First, I signed on as lead guitarist for The Last Drags with Pat Kavaney and Jerry-Groove. (This de-isolates me as a musician, and scratches my rocker itch left by The Renegade Saints.) Next, I kicked off international promo run for Yellow House, with Emerging Artist Resources. (This is already paying dividends beyond expectation.) And finally, I moved an upright piano into my house (with the help of River my protogee and his bandmates in The Tunnel Kings.)

There was peripheral sadness as the year was closed. My agent Linda decided to retire. (Not so sad for her, really.) Also, longtime Eugene arts patron Wally Slocum passed away. (The Renegade Saints reunited for the memorial at the WOW Hall.) And saddest of all, a close friend of mine lost a brother.

The holidays began cheering me up, threatening to put me back on the sunnyside, when suddenly, I was hospitalized with a kidney-stone, or gallstone, or herniated disc, or something. That really sucked, for sure, but when I woke up from sweet Morphine and ever-friendly Vicodin, I checked into my business to find that I already have a new agent. Plus, I found out that I’m on folk charts in Europe and Australia.

So now, as I start the new year back at Headquarters at West of Eden, rediscovering workaholism, I think to myself: The next time I want to release three or four videos, double my tour circuit, and get radio play on two other continents, I’ll take a sabbatical.