Well, I'm here in Saskatoon now, working for MISI, and liking it. The business was started just last October, and is rapidly expanding. How rapidly? you ask; almost as rapidly as a hand grenade just after you pull the pin! If you wish to check it out, I'll put their address below;
When I came down for my interview with MISI, the radio reported that there had been 235 police calls on the previous Saturday evening, and six stabbings. Jacqueline Dolynne, My new Real Estate agent, claims that she knows a local Cop who says the Media are under-reporting!
On my first day at MISI's new location on 33rd St. I couldn't help but notice the sign up on the Marquee of the Bar accross the street; it reads, "This Saturday Night, Amature Fight Night, "Tough Man Contest", Local Talent Wanted!" Hmmm! thought I to myself, it dosen't sound like a Pina Colada type of crowd! Yes, a good place to avoid, but, also, a good thing to keep in mind; there's a vein of local character running through that sign!
"I am just a new boy,
Stranger to this Saskatoon Town!
Tell me Child, what's been happinin'.
And who's going to show the Stranger around?"
Thanks Pinkie
But, for the greater part, the locals are friendly, and, if I might say, outgoing! I got a hint of just how friendly on the occasion of my first day off. I had shrugged off the litaney of complaing muscles, outraged at the indignities thrust upon them during my first 6 days of work, and decided to make my first forray into Saskatoon society. A modest foray I must confess; I drove the RoadTrek down to 33rd street, parked, and made my way downtown on foot. At 22nd St. I paused, waiting for the traffic light, to cross the street. A car pulled up to my left, and, while I didn't look, I heard the electronic hum of a window being put down. "Hey!", came a feminine voice, and, as I looked to the car, the voice continued, "I'm thinking of getting my nipple pierced, and wondered what you think? There were two young ladies in the car, giggling, about 25 would be my guess, and, as the voice continued, the lady in the passenger seat pulled her T shirt down, popped out her right breast, and began vigorously thumbing her nipple!
Now, I'm no connisour of nipples, but admit that I've been a sucker for a nice set ever since the day I first met my mother face to face. I believe that they wanted a reaction, but, I'm not one to be cowed by a nipple, besides, they had broached a question, and, as any Topics Master will attest, a question demands an answer. Therefore I decided to rise to the occasion, and give the answer my best shot. That poor little pink fellow was taking a vigorous thumbing as I spoke; "Well," said I, "It looks pretty tasty all by it's own self! What kind of ring had you in mind? Silver? Gold? or perhaps something with a small gem? Both were laughing now, and the wee laddie still bending to it's punishment! "I hadn't thought about that," said the lady in the passenger seat, "I just wanted your opinion! "Well, I replied, in a contemplative tone, "In my opinion, you get ....two thumbs, straight up! My hands, which had been hanging at my sides till then, now shot up about a foot, both thumsbs extended!
The lights changed then, and, as I crossed the street, I could hear the pair of them still laughing. What did they look like? I can't really say ...I was somewhat distracted at the time, but, I'll certainly recognize the wee nipper if ever I see him again. I haven't broached the matter with Julie Anne Eliza yet; I'm afraid that she might not understand. I did share the story with Allison Lee, and she found it as hysterical as did myself. The secret though, is, to my mind, safe enough here; I don't think that Julie Anne Eliza puruses this page. Can't say that I blame her really; I seldom read it myself.
I bought myself what is commonly referred to as a, "Biker Skull Cap", and the reason for that, is, I suppose, slightly misplaced vanity. I have to wear a hard hat in my new position, and, for better or worse, it's my preference to take this weary old head home in much the same condition as I brought it to work. That's impossible once one has donned a hard hat and invested a little 'sweat equity' in the firm. The Skull Cap' fits nicely under the helmet, keeps everything in place, and the rayon inserts allow a little ventilation, which, if it was entirely leather, would not be the case. You can get them with all kinds of elaborate designs on them, flames, death heads, screaming eagles and the like, but I didn't want anything that dramatic; I felt that the Canadian Flag was just the right touch; but, it surprises me how little it takes to get a timorous little fellow like myself in trouble!
I had intended to give Sunday over to the Jazz Festival, but, my pal Jamie, on Friday, suggested that I should go to the Canada Day celebrations at Diefinbaker park. There were bands scheduled for the whole day, and a concert in the evening with Nazareth, a band I really liked in my younger days, and one which I'd thought out of commision years ago. However, I was a little jangled on Friday, due to word from the bank that, in their opinion, I was a probationary employee, and that, as such, was ineligible for a mortgage untill my probationary period was up. Besides, I quit going to concerts years ago; too many people and just way too loud. I know ....I'm getting old! However, at the end of the day, I had a chat with my boss, Q, and explained my mortgage cunundrum to him. "That's no problem," said the thoughtful Q, "I can't do it just now, but, Tuesday morning I'll have a letter printed up saying you are a permanent, full time employee." That inspite of a 90 day probationary period! He's a good fellow, Q, and it's just such little gestures that make the weary muscles worth it.
So, Saturday morning I got to thinking of Jamie's words. The Jazz festival was still my preference, but, perhaps it would be good to attend an event where you might just know some good people. So, Sunday afternoon, I donned my, "Canada Rocks" T-shirt with the Innukshuk front and centre, and topped it off with my Maple Leaf skull cap, and wet out to the park. I'd been told that the Nazareth concert began at 9:00, and thought that not too bad, and wouldn't keep me up too far past my bed time. However, when I arrived, and attempted to verify this information, I found out that there were three bands slated for the evening, and Nazareth wasn't to perform till 11:30. Even better, there was no seating, and it was to be a liscensed event. Not quite my cup of Tea, I'm afraid, and I decided to save my shekels for something a little more refined. You can just imagine the possibilities; an enthusiastic crowd who'd been drinking beer all afternoon, poured into a five hour long, liscensed rock concert! Sounded like trouble to me.
There was a time when I played with some very rough and tumble cats, but, those days are long gone, and I've never felt the loss of their acquaintance, or other such. No! I really don't want any trouble; I'd explain that point of vie in more detail, but my pal, Jr. Brown, does a far better job of it than I could ever do. Jr. plays a "GuitSteel", and dosen't so much sing, as articulate in the 'Spoken Voice' style of Leonard Cohen. Take it away Jr.!
It's good to see you Baby,
It's been a long, long while.
We're both a whole lot older,
And seen a lot of miles.
But things are really different now,
Since the good old days,
And you've been in some trouble,
Since we went our sepparate ways.
We'll have to say Hello, maybe,
Some other time instead.
Because you're wanted by the Police,
And my wife thinks you're dead!
Somebody spread the rumour,
That you had lost your life.
Least, that's the way I heard it,
And what I told my wife.
Now here you've shown up again,
And talk is gettin' round,
And I can see that one of us,
Will have to leave this town.
If you think that I want trouble,
Then you're crazy in your head!
Because you're wanted by the police,
And my wife thinks you're dead!
You never called or wrote me,
Just up and disappeared.
Nobody knew what happened,
Where you'd been for all these years!
Now troubles what you're lookin' like,
Cause troubles where you bin',
And I can see the kind of trouble,
You could get me in.
You better pay attention,
To every word I said.
Because you're wanted by the police,
And my wife thinks you're dead!
So Goodbye to you Baby,
I'm glad we got to talk.
But I'm faithful to my wife,
and I don't never break the law!
I don't know where you're headed for,
But I do know where you've bin'.
We've reminised now let's just go,
Our separate ways again.
Go find another ex sweetheart,
To hang around instead.
Because you're wanted by the police,
And my wife thinks you're Dead!
Thank's Jr.
It was a lovely afternoon; hot, but without the Ontario humidity, and more people than you could shake a stick at! The bands were good; I'd arrived at 2:00 after sending off a care package to the 'Home Folk', and was ready to relax. I wandered around the displays, and had a feed of homemade cabbage rolls, just like Mom used to make, though somewhat pricier! Mostly family groups, but some young couples and a handful of single people much like myself. I never did catch up with anyone I knew, and I was getting just a little baked in the sun. There was no place to sit, except the grass, so, round bout 4:00, I ambled over to the tented beer garden; it was a pretty nice crowd with several tables playing card games. The security was impressive; I'll tell you, some of these Prarie farm boys got way more than their share of Wheaties! Brutal huge they be; not the type to be too cheeky with. But, as I've mentioned before, discretion is the entirety of my valour; I couldn't see myself having any problems with them.
One table, on the edge of the crowd, is bursting at the seams with five energetic, healthy sets of tattoos! When seated, which is neither often, nor for long, they pound on the table, shouting, "Drink, Drink, Drink!", and exhort those seated around them to do the same. They all have their shirts off, and, between frequent trips to the bar, they mock spar, and wrestle with each other! Roofers I am later to find, and they barely attempt to contain their exuberant, unpredictable violence. The area is posted for no smoking, but that dosen't stop these boys, and the ciggarettes are ever, unabashedly present; oddly, to my eye, those secuity types I mentioned earlier, don't seem to notice this blatent infraction of Saskatoon law. One fello is particularly energetic; laughing, he regales his companions with blinding flurries of punches, lightening fast, precise, and each individual punch stopping just fractions from the faces of aforementioned friends. I suspect that he is about 25, and that his friends might call him something along the lines of, "The Champ!"
One in the group appears to be about 30, and the two play scrap with gusto. The older fellow is 6' 2", possibly 3", and I watch as, three times, his younger companion launches a rising 'snap kick' at his head, and each time his boot rises past the top of the older guy's head. To execute a rising 'snap kick' the the enactor jumps, straight up, with his 'off' leg, in this case, and in most cases, the left; the right knee, meanwhile, is driven straight up in the air, and, as it approaches the chest, the foot is rapidly extended. It's the type of kick that can take an opponent's head off before he even realizes he is an opponent! Most people I've seen aren't good enough to carry off the move; this guy is ...he's rehearsed! Not only rehearsed, but enjoys it! Nasty combination.
At this point I've been sitting there for an hour and a half; haven't recognized anyone, and the situation is getting old real fast. I decide to head for points homeward, and, as I leave, I wonder how Julie Anne Eliza is making out in Niagra on the Lake, with all the Hargreaves Clan gathered for their big anual reunion. Kinda miss being there myself. As I leave the tent, and approach the gate, who should I see coming towards me but Twinkle Toes, the kicker I was telling you about. He's looking over his shoulder and beckoning to his buddies, shouting, "Come on! Let's go smoke a Hoolie!" Turning, he lays eyes on my poor, lonesome self, and, quicker than I can here describe, he's in my face, bigger than life, and a good sight nastier. "Is that hat real leather?" he demands, in a tone I don't really find warming, and I know I'm going to have to show him a preferable one.
A smile, I've been told, and believe it to be so, is just a curved line, capable of straightening out difficult situations. He's about 6', has 2" and 24 years on me, but I look him straight in the eye ...and smile! The smile hurts just at that moment, but, I can think of a lot of things that might hurt a whole lot worse! "Yes it is." I reply, and try to light up the darkness that is his life with my friendly grin. "Did you get it just for today? he demands, and the tone has not softened any. "No", says I, "I wear a hard hat at work, and this," I say, stretching both hands up to pat my pretty new bonnet, "keeps everything in place!" His tone softens now, "I just got my job back," says Twinkle Toes, "I'm a roofer! Can you imagine how burn't I'll be by the end of summer? "You'll be black Mun! smiles myself. "All I've done for the last few months is work out!" says my new found sub-cretinous companion. "It shows!," smiles I, "You're a healthy boy!" "You're the first person to tell me that ....today! my new best friend intones. "I imagine that you'll hear it again, before the night's out," I respond pleasantly, "Have a good night Mun!" Turning, I exit smiling, for points anywhere the fuck else!
I wasn't entirely pleased with my performance. I blew a line! I'd meant to introduce myself! Oh well ....sometimes bullshit does indeed baffle brawn! There's much else to tell, but, little time to type it!
James (I won't say what the B. stands for, but the third name's Steve!) Mackay
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