The Scarborough Mirror

Lightfoot is an icon, a corner peg of Canadian music. In his early career he was to be found performing in Canada's lounges and beer joints. As fame grew, he travelled. Success was in the palm of his hand. Few could resist his distinct voice, skillfully crafted songs and good looks, which the ladies especially appreciated.

As his fame grew his career shot into the stratosphere. A few years ago, illness laid him low and others filled the void. Lightfoot lapsed into the category of legend, a has been, during his prolonged convalescence.

Then, two years ago the word was out. Lightfoot would again take the stage at Mariposa, stand in the bright lights and entertain his fans.

Of course we, my wife and I, planned to be there.

As he sang, my mind went back to my college years, Yorkville and its vibrant entertainment scene. Of all I heard sing in those days only a few names, Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks, Joni Mitchell, some jazz performances and Lightfoot, came to mind.

Two years ago he was still convalescing, less than robust. We thought that would be his last hurrah and savoured his performance.

The moment it was announced Lightfoot would grace Mariposa's stage this year, we scurried to buy tickets for the three-day festival. Then we booked accommodation at Tisdale House in Orillia, a bed and breakfast that does the town proud.

Finally the day arrived and we were greeted in Orillia by sunny skies and a festival already in party mood. Entertainers, on five different stages, vied for attention, as did food pavilions and craft boutiques. We lathered on sunscreen, then wandered the park and Lake Couchaching shore. An ideal setting for such an event!

Old friends were greeted and new ones made. It was as though we had stepped back in time to find ourselves amongst Beatniks, peace movements and long forgotten Woodstock. Marvellous.

Lightfoot's performance on the Sunday night was to be the festival's finale. So thousands of us claimed space on the grass before the stage, set up our lawn chairs and waited. Anticipation surged through the audience like an electric shock.

The weather had been outstanding throughout the event. Then, just minutes before Lightfoot was to appear, the sky grew ominous. Helium balloons, released by excited children climbed into the air and were lost in the gloom.

The Bills, an amazing group from British Columbia, ended their set just as the first raindrops fell. Then the stage lights dimmed, the spotlights focused and Lightfoot and his band stood centre stage, ready to roll.

He started slow, vintage Lightfoot. The bulk of the audience knew, loved the songs and joined in, yet not so loud that we shut out the voice of the master. Five songs into the set, torrential rains fell and Lightfoot's microphone failed. We could not hear him sing.

In frustration some of us dashed to the nearby pub tent where lesser-known performers were singing. We had made a wise choice. A large man with sideburns and three chins sang like an angel. A Manchester-born counterpart proved as good and the tent above kept the downpour at bay.

The next morning Orillia was all chatter. Lightfoot, its native son, had performed and thousands went away singing his praises! Once again the faithful had heard him at a live performance.

Will he be there in 2008? Don't know! But we have already booked tickets for next year's Mariposa in any case. It is worth every nickel.