In one of my early days within the Winnipeg Woodlot, a sunny Saturday, I grabbed a local java and retired to the view out my front window. Though it was early, the parade was well on its way. The residents were spilling out of the cafes onto the sidewalks, folks were engaged with friends, and families were neck deep in strollers, dogs and good cheer.
One mouthful into the black nectar, looking onto the street, a middle-aged man, naked, in what appeared to be a meth-induced frenzy, entered the harmony of middle-class fellowship. How would this new motif, this fleshy note of discord be received? This was mandatory viewing and I had a premium balcony seat.
He ran out into traffic, then behind the building into a construction site and climbed a chain-link fence. He did not have any footwear. Oblivious to the rebar, nails, wood, aluminum and glass he climbed over the fence on the far side and introduced himself to the sidewalk cafe patrons. The folks at the cafe weren’t as amused as I was. Looks of disgust and disbelief multiplied. Women covered their babies’ eyes from the horror but the older children, especially the boys, embraced the ensuing chaos. Two men, perhaps with gallantry in mind, left the comfort of their love group to chase methman. They ran in a large circle which increased viewership substantially. However, our new friend was too damn nimble. They returned to their families defeated, eyes cast down, and palms up. What did they think they were going to achieve?
Our protagonist then sighted the city bus cruising slowly in my direction. Advantageous perhaps, there was an empty bicycle rack attached to the front of the bus. When the bus stopped at the intersection, he made his move. He jumped onto the rack, spread-eagled facing inwards through the front window. We now witnessed a spectacle. Pockets of outrage were gaining momentum as we watched the driver try to dislodge this large screen obstruction. He tried the wiper, the wash fluid, gave up and exited the bus. He moved towards methman but was unsuccessful in shutting down the show. Our friend jumped a residential fence and ran through several yards disappearing from view.
For some time the story developed, details were added, discussed and revised. The event became legendary then died soon after. Our lives are as transitory as the chaos introduced when this naked symphonist appeared. From birth we make a little noise, hope to leave an impression and then we are gone.
Fancy another cup?
(Check out Tales from the Woodlot Part 1)
(Check out Tales from the Woodlot Part 3)
Herr Doktor
One mouthful into the black nectar, looking onto the street, a middle-aged man, naked, in what appeared to be a meth-induced frenzy, entered the harmony of middle-class fellowship. How would this new motif, this fleshy note of discord be received? This was mandatory viewing and I had a premium balcony seat.
He ran out into traffic, then behind the building into a construction site and climbed a chain-link fence. He did not have any footwear. Oblivious to the rebar, nails, wood, aluminum and glass he climbed over the fence on the far side and introduced himself to the sidewalk cafe patrons. The folks at the cafe weren’t as amused as I was. Looks of disgust and disbelief multiplied. Women covered their babies’ eyes from the horror but the older children, especially the boys, embraced the ensuing chaos. Two men, perhaps with gallantry in mind, left the comfort of their love group to chase methman. They ran in a large circle which increased viewership substantially. However, our new friend was too damn nimble. They returned to their families defeated, eyes cast down, and palms up. What did they think they were going to achieve?
Our protagonist then sighted the city bus cruising slowly in my direction. Advantageous perhaps, there was an empty bicycle rack attached to the front of the bus. When the bus stopped at the intersection, he made his move. He jumped onto the rack, spread-eagled facing inwards through the front window. We now witnessed a spectacle. Pockets of outrage were gaining momentum as we watched the driver try to dislodge this large screen obstruction. He tried the wiper, the wash fluid, gave up and exited the bus. He moved towards methman but was unsuccessful in shutting down the show. Our friend jumped a residential fence and ran through several yards disappearing from view.
For some time the story developed, details were added, discussed and revised. The event became legendary then died soon after. Our lives are as transitory as the chaos introduced when this naked symphonist appeared. From birth we make a little noise, hope to leave an impression and then we are gone.
Fancy another cup?
(Check out Tales from the Woodlot Part 1)
(Check out Tales from the Woodlot Part 3)
Herr Doktor