this is ken with the mayor of viscount.
this was our evening / morning narrated by matt.
are we alive? is this thing on? miles and miles of Canadian wasteland between Saskatoon and Winnipeg somehow channeled an Apocalypse. jim morrison once wrote ... :lost in a roman wilderness of pain, and all the children are insane." this seemed to repeat over and over in my head as our gas-less van shat us out into the beautiful birthing hands of viscount Canada. we were confused, amazed and eager to swallow our destiny. our van crawled to a stop in front of a house awkwardly lit from the front by 2 ambulances. we wait. nobody around, the ambulances are empty. what the hell is happening in that house? zombies? a 54 hour meth driven sexual frenzy abruptly climaxed by a heart attack? the anticipation was killing us. finally an EMT poked her head but only to rudely inform us that medical emergency's slightly overshadow the need to get our 15 passenger van to Winnipeg so we can "jam" whatever. then out of the house comes our savior... that's right - the mayor of viscount himself. this man is highly trained and our situation doesn't even phase this veteran of the now legendary "Canadian civil war" shit he has the daughter of the towns "gas"man" hiding mysteriously inside his house. while simultaneously handling a diabetic attack and a barn fire the good mayor put us safely into the arms of our petroleum god. we have been driving through the night now and we are currently about 2 hrs outside Winnipeg. a couple of things have been become painfully clear. one, I will never be the mayor of anything except a case of beer and a town I mold out of deli tray meat. and two, I could have never survived as a cowboy. never.
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