Time&Whiskey did 4 or 5 shows at The Grove in the summer of 1998. One of them stands out, though: we played on the same night as an outdoor jazz festival, a hot night that drew crowds of people. We got the festival’s spillover, folks looking for beer and real music, and by 11pm The Grove was a fire code violation.

Dale should have shut the doors when the club reached capacity, but he was the only bartender and he let the tip jar think for him. We wouldn’t have noticed a fire anyway through the fog of cigarette smoke. (When Dale disappeared 6 months later, it had nothing to do with scuba diving off Vancouver Island, like everyone says. He was in an oncology ward somewhere getting his lungs scraped.)

I have 3 clear memories of the night:
- Chocolate martinis, one after another after another. They were stacked 3-high at the front of the stage, notwithstanding the dent I’d make in the pile between songs.
- Like most gigs at that time, we closed with One More Astronaut (’cause my voice was cooked anyway at the end of the night.) I was looking forward to a post-gig lemon juice gargle.
- When we tried to leave the stage, sweating and hoarse, the crowd revolted. When we protested, Dale revolted: “You keep playing, and I keep serving.”

So we played for another hour and a half, and Dale kept the liquor flowing. He finally booted the crowd at 3 a.m., but he told the band to stay for a few more free beers, ’cause he was out of chocolate martinis. I left at 5. The sun led me home. For some reason, The Grove went out of business the next year.

It stood empty and boarded up ’til someone gutted it and erected the ultimate indignity: a BiWay clone. That hurt worse than singing I Mother Earth. But at least I have this, the last picture ever taken of the mural on Mississauga Road: