Mr. Smith

We’re not supposed to call him Buddy, eh?  Only John can, but he’s the owner. Everyone else in the yard calls him Mr. Smith, but it’s a nod-and-a-wink kinda deal. 

He’s a good egg. Not pretentious at all. Keeps to himself but doesn’t mind chatting now and then. I see him in the Cafe, of course. He has his own table in there. He helps me out sometimes with the band, but doesn’t get all weird about it, like he’s the big expert, just cause he wrote, like, two hundred songs and had hit records and all that. 

When he went to Ottawa, things really seemed to change in the yard. I think Dave the Cook missed him a lot. They’re good friends. I used to hear them up there after the Cafe closed. Arguing, but not really, you know?

So, yeah, Mr. Smith. I’d say he was a friend of mine. 

                                                                              ~ Sandy Tymoshchuk - June 24th, 2008