Friday, October 19, 2012
Passage to Edmonton, AB
Somehow, in a strange kind of way, this photo reminds me of Quebec. Only these crosses are not silver - instead they are crosses wired to the great sky. Like stitches on a torn wound they hold man's constructs to heaven and earth alike. We cross the next border line. The east has long escaped behind us, and the west has reeled us in. We seek a traveller's breakfast at a Husky Truck Stop on the Alberta side.
We're wired on coffee and the waitress can't get the bill right. Something's burning somewhere and we're killing down time between here and Edmonton. Back in the car I play a track off my Narrow House CD for Morgan. I haven't heard it in at least a couple of years, so I'm interested to hear Angola Prison Rodeo. Colin Linden had a hand in Morgan's latest CD as well as mine, so we are trading notes and stories. Ray Kennedy mastered both our disks as well. Small world, and we've been travelling through it in the same ways for a long time...
Tonight's show is a wonderful little house concert, but as billet space is at a premium we decide to book an extra night into Edmonton's landmark Commercial Hotel. It's a bit strange to be staying here and not playing here, but nice to be based in one location for several days. I get the Presidential Suite up on the top floor, while Morgan takes a smaller, more practical room, closer to the ground. Blues on Whyte is jumping upon our return. The streets are full of the drunken and distressed, the beautiful and the blessed. There's glass breaking in the distance. Even the dull roar of the giant air conditioner won't mute the night. The windows are open wide to let out the heat and the faint hint of a full century of sex, sorry and not so sorry, but brought to conclusion. So many ghosts crying out for a quick shot at salvation. The door has the scars of too many rage fueled kicks and punches- nailed together where the hinges gave in and splintered so many years ago. Tonight's kindness is laughing loudly across the light well. I settle in to read a chapter of Dante's Inferno, hoping sleep will take me before morning comes. I feel at home here, as one with the room and the night.
Posted by Doc MacLean at 10/19/2012