''We're on a mission from God.'' - Elwood Blues, in The Blues Brothers

Next stop was Kingston, where all of my earthly belongings were stored in boxes near Queen's University, my alma mater. After travelling through Europe with only a suitcase and a backpack, I couldn't figure out what I needed all this stuff for. I still can't.

I was fortunate enough to have the company of Steve, a friend of mine who was going to make the Boston road trip. The plan was to drive down in a 14-foot U-Haul van. Steve would fly home to Toronto on August 31st. He'd meet his Mom at the airport, grab his luggage, and catch a connecting flight to London, England, where he'd be working for a year while taking some time off from his Economics degree at the University of Toronto.

So Big Mo and Caleigh dropped us off at the train station in Toronto. Steve and I caught up on old times, and we were in Kingston within two hours.

The first thing we did was meet up with the two other people I'd kept up correspondence with from Norway. The four of us had a bite to eat at The Brew Pub, and Steve managed to single-handedly finish off their massive Sampler Platter, which ''Where To Eat On Day Parole'' describes as ''one hell of a plate of food.'' (Kingston sports one University, two colleges, and six prisons. How it manages to attract such a massive tourist crowd is a testament to something.)

Steve's the gentleman in the middle. As I mentioned, he's been studying Economics at the University of Toronto, and his financial knowledge is beyond reproach. I know this first-hand, as he worked with me as the Minister of Finance two years ago for the Ontario Youth Parliament. Steve's economic background offers him a new perspective on parts of my world. For example, Steve knew about RedHat, the Linux distributor, only because it went public last week. For him, it was the typical story of - as he put it - an ''Internet Stock.'' It shot through the roof and is now tapering off steadily. I have an immense respect for Steve's dedication, and his capacity to work hard in the face of adversity. He's also a great guy, and his conversational abilities were going to make for one hell of a trip to Boston.

On the left is Phil, geek extraordinaire and, as VP-Info of the Queen's Engineering Society this year, the guy who runs the web server that's dishing out these pages. Indeed, Phil's sporting his GeekWorld t-shirt. The geeks reading this might remember that Linux distributor RedHat (there it is again!) ran a competition a few months back to send six people to attend the GeekWorld conference while staying in a beach house. Phil was one of the winners. But Phil is an uber-geek; when he's not dazzling people with his Linux skills, he can be found whupping ass as President of Queen's Karate Club, or working at the Canadian Microelectronics Corporation on Queen's Campus. Plus, he can brew a killer pint of Øl.

On the right is Zoe, a friend of mine from Queen's who is now entering her fourth year in the Math and Engineering program. I was in that boat just one year ago. I've had the opportunity to get to know her through the Engineering Society, as a Lab Instructor, and most importantly, as a friend. Zoe imparted all kind of great advice on me in May regarding how to safely and enjoyably trek through Europe. She made a similar trek a year ago, and her advice turned out to be most useful. While I was at AutoSim, she was working at the Math and Stats department in Kingston, just like I did two years ago. Zoe's one awesome, spunky kid, and being in touch with her high-energy personality helped me keep my summer in perspective. Zoe does not have anything to do with RedHat.

As I said, Steve, Phil and Zoe were the people I kept in touch with when I was in Norway. Take a look at this page from Phil's August phone bill, and note the call to Norway near the top. Norwegians, multiply by five to get the price in norsk Kroner.

And here's the reason for that phonecall - Phil was bouncing off the walls telling me about his sweetheart, Lianne. As you can see, she's not particularly intimidated by his knowledge of Karate, as she knows Ju Jitsu. I pity any cop that has to respond to a domestic disturbance call at their place! Then again, considering what shiny happy people they were, it's hard to visualize a domestic disturbance call being placed against them - unless they keep playfighting like this! Lianne goes by the moniker Goth Frec, which tells you a bit about who she is. The ''Frec'' part means she'll be an Engineering orientation leader this year at Queen's, dyed purple with a golden mohawk, slamming her leather jacket around and telling the Frosh how high the Greasepole is. This wasn't a particularly Goth day for Lianne, but Phil assures me that when it's a Goth day, it's really a Goth day. The two are quite a pair, and I look forward to seeing them when they visit Boston on October 30th for a ''Type O Negative'' concert.

Next stop was AJ's, Kingston's answer to Strøket, the disco in Tromsø. We stumbled into Jilly B, a friend of ours from the Ontario Youth Parliament! Two years ago, when I was Premier and Steve was Minister of Finance, Jill was the Minister of Individual Discipleship. She's got a personality to match that ear-to-ear smile.

I took Steve on a little tour of some of my favourite spots on campus, starting with this building: Clark Hall. Above the bookstore on the bottom floor, you can find the headquarters of the Engineering Society, and the center of the universe: Clark Hall Pub. An event called Ritual takes place every Friday afternoon at Clark. Ritual involves the vast majority of the engineers at Queen's ducking out of class for good tunes, a couple of pints of Canadian beer and a viewing of either The Simpsons or South Park.

And this is where I spent the two summers of my life while I was developing Legend of the Greasepole: Jeffrey Hall, the physical manifestation of the Department of Mathematics and Statistics at Queen's. Zoe is going to be seeing a lot of this building for the next eight months. Only mathematicians could live in such a monstrosity. We affectionately referred to the basement as the ''Jeff Pit,'' and the classrooms in the basement as ''Pits.'' It's not all that bad, but when you're living on an otherwise beautiful limestone campus, it's easy to crack a few jokes at Jeff's expense. It was recently rated the second most hideous building on campus (the chemistry department took first prize with the ''Frost Wing,'' which isn't pictured here).

Ah yes, Kingston - the city of limestone. It wasn't until after U-Haul ''screwed us up the goat ass,'' as Steve so delicately put it, that we learned that Saturday night was to be the evening of the annual Limestone City Blues Festival! We'd been waiting all day for a 14-foot U-Haul van, only to find out that they'd completely run out of vans in eastern Canada. This was despite the fact that I'd booked the truck at great expense by calling from Norway in early July, almost two months earlier.

They finally located a truck - in Toronto, three hours away. They promised they were going to drive it to Kingston that evening, which would set us back a day. There was nothing to do but catch the Blues Festival!

Apparantly, the keynote act of the Festival had bowed out at the last minute, leaving the show without a grand finale. Rumours had been flying around town all day about some ''mystery'' bands that might be showing up to fill in. And these were some serious rumours: the members of the Canadian band The Tragically Hip all come from Kingston. And Dan Aykroyd, the one living Blues Brother, has taken up residence in Kingston. Could The Hip - or even Elwood Blues - possibly show up to save the day?

Of course they could! The Tragically Hip came out onto the stage to great fanfare. We couldn't believe it - for five dollars, we had landed ourselves nearly front-row tickets to a full-blown Tragically Hip concert in downtown Kingston!

Thank God for the boobishness of U-Haul! After a couple of blues songs, Gord Downie said, ''I don't know if this is appropriate, but...'' and the group broke into one of their ''radio'' hits, New Orleans is Sinking (And I Don't Wanna Swim). We went nuts.

On to the stage strolled members from the Band ''Who's Yo' Daddy'' to compliment The Hip.

And out of the blue came the Blues Man himself. I don't know whether to call him Elwood Blues or Dan Aykroyd. Regardless, there he was, and he and Gord Downie teamed up to lead the bands through a medley of top-notch blues music.

Here, Dan Aykroyd and Gord Downie harmonize on their harmonicas. The only thing cooler than the concert itself was the fact that it was totally spontaneous.

You never would have known it was spontaneous listening to these two jam.

The daughters and friends of the staff of Woodenheads, a (highly recommended) gourmet pizza restauraunt in Kingston, joined The Hip, Who's Yo' Daddy and Dan Aykroyd on stage for the classic Blues Brothers Band ''Outro'' number. I couldn't help but think of Espen's affinity for the Blues Brothers. Now this was something to write back to Norway about!

We were still reeling from the festival when we went to pick up the U-Haul Truck. Fate had redeemed U-Haul's boobishness, and all of our frustration towards the company had dissipated. Well, almost.

It turns out the only truck they had in eastern Canada was a 26-foot behemoth. Look at this thing! It's just about as long as the apartment building I used to live in. I was up on the fourth floor, which you can't see in this shot. Beneath me were offices for a dentist, a lawyer, and a pediatrician. If I'd had kids, they would have been well looked after, with shiny teeth and no worries about legal problems.

We needed maybe a two foot cube to fit all of my stuff. Here's Steve relaxing in my comfy chair on Sunday afternoon, just before we left Kingston for Boston. Unlike Jake and Elwood Blues, we hadn't had any immaculate intercessions, and neither of us were under the impression we were on a mission from God. But after seeing the Tragically Hip and Elwood Blues in their hometown, we were pretty sure someone was smiling down on us. As Jake and Elwood might have put it:

''It's 656 kilometers to Boston, we've got a full tank of gas, a twenty-six foot U-Haul van, it's getting dark, and we're wearing sunglasses.''