05/25/05 "Saturday Night Main Event..."

I found a quote that best expresses my feelings about my trip to Cranbrook.

“Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.” - Max Ehrmann from The Desiderata

If Toronto is the cultural heart of Canada, (Many would argue this… I do not…) then Cranbrook is its spiritual armpit. People there have cloistered themselves from what’s happening in the rest of the country, and Damn it… they’ve done a smashing job of it. You can almost see a neon sign above the locals’ heads that says “Closed for Business…”

This mountain locale has all the hearty charm of a punch to the crotch. (That actually might be too gentle…)

The shows in Cranbrook were shakey to say the very least. Friday went well (ish). The crowd started small, but got progressively larger through the course of my set. They were there to laugh, and eventually warmed up enough to have a little fun. Truthfully it was the best I could hope for, and I knew it.

Saturday on the other hand was a complete and total shit show. The crowd was quite small, and there was a heckler… okay, really it was just a painful woman who was hammered and insisted on being rude. Every time I opened my mouth, she had something to say. I played with her for a while, letting her expose her ignorance to everyone. (Sadly no one really noticed.) I figured that would be enough. I figured wrong.

When I brought B.J. on stage, she started in on him. She was relentless. To B.J.’s credit, he was really gentle with her at first. Eventually (about 10 minutes later…) his fuse got short, and he barked at her. She still wouldn’t stop. He snapped something rude at her, and in a flash it got ugly.

Her husband took exception, and tried to rush the stage. He was quite small, and just about as lippy. Realizing that B.J. outweighed him by about 140 pounds, he backed off. (Albeit just briefly…)

He started kicking tables and chairs, and kept yelling, “Come on Bitch… Let’s go…”

B.J. remained remarkably calm… I was impressed. I was pretty sure that he could have ripped the little moron in half without even blinking. He stayed on stage and tried to salvage the show. (As much as he could… It was pretty much ashes after that…)

Then the bouncers showed up and dragged him out into the hall. Suddenly there was a loud crash that could be heard through the doors.

The dumb ass punched the wall in the lobby. He put his fist right through the gypsum. Seemingly not happy about this singular act of destruction, he slammed open the exit door, stomped down a set of stairs, and started kicking in a fence. This was a man on a mission. That’s when the RCMP showed up. I suspect that his night got a little more entertaining after that.

I imagine that the marital discourse in the doublewide later on was… in a word… grim.

On a side note, the hotel staff were fantastic. They were on top of things right away. They deserve a pat on the back.

I find it sad that some people are willing to wear their ignorance like a badge of honour. Even sadder is when others fail to recognize it. In a world where words like decency and morality are thrown about like a nickel and dime store slogan, it seems they have no actual meaning. The words have become bankrupt. (At least when benchmarked against behaviour.)

But really, the whole night had a miserable tinge to it. I could sense there was trouble afoot. It’s funny how you can almost smell it sometimes.

If it hadn’t been for the cool documentary about KISS on television, I’d be likely to say the trip was a bit of a bust.