The best thing about the evening show was the Indian hoop dancer.
Now I don't know when one indigenous American found the time and the initiative between hunting, fishing and resisting white invasion, to decide that he didn't have enough cardio activity and needed a little hoop dancing, but I'm grateful for it. It was an amazing performance of skill and athleticism.
And then there were the Young Canadians. Oh my. If you dressed a group of beauty pagent contestants in western wear and told them to lip sych a series of pop rock anthems you'd be pretty close. It was as close as cynical Kelty got all year when describing this lot. They did look very pretty but I drew the line when I found out the band was pretending as well. Fortunately, the staging and fireworks were terrific. It was an impressive spectacle as the sun went down.
Laura had an early start the next morning and left early, and the three of us remaining faced the absolute certainty that as the last firework faded into the stars, that we'd need to battle up to 20,000 people to get to the C train station for our transport home.
Marc didn't miss a beat. As I was jamming my camera back into my case he grabbed both myself and Kelty by the hands and plunged into the crowd. I looked behind his back to see Kelty grinning like a kid let out of school. We looked at each other and shared the same thought; I had caught myself one stubborn guy, who we could both rely on to see us home safe.
3 comments:
That was an epic day!
Songs from the Young Canadians are filed in my brain under the folder "Repressed Memories". :D
I became grumpy at the Young Candians and had to get out of there. However, just as I left the Stampede grounds the fireworks started, so I hung out and watched them along with all the kids from the Indian village who were toking up. Just as they finished I bolted out of the park and was home 20 minutes later. It was a great night.
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