9 November 2009

Boyhood Memories of Saskatchewan



I was trying to remember if I had been to Saskatchewan ever in my life. I had lived in Motherfucking, Alberta, near enough the Saskatchewan frontier for me to have visited the Green Rider province when I was a boy. I could not remember so I phoned my mom. "How are you Beer, my little, little boy?" she asked after saying hello. Mom had been drinking, so had I. "Saskatchewan! Those redneck cocksuckers! I wish I could tell you you have never set foot in Saskatchewan," she spat, "but that would be a lie. The summer before we left Alberta, for good, the summer after I had Kitty, we all went camping to a lake where we met the Hoods on the Saskatoon Berry Day long weekend. I forget the name of the lake. It might have been Shit Hole Lake. Or maybe it was just near Shit Hole Lake. That was a long, long time ago Beer."

The Hoods were old family drinking buddies. They were not fond of mixer. That was,"For God Damn Americans," I heard old man Hood say over and over once the party had passed from beer to better things.

"You and your brother had a grand time eating bugs and snagging suckers with the Hood boys on the lakeshore and of course we all got eaten alive by the mosquitoes," mom continued as she looked deep into her wine glass. We were on the phone but I knew she was doing that. If you are ever looking for your past, have a look in a glass of wine, it is in there somewhere. "We weighed Kitty when we got home and she had lost a pound during the long weekend we were in Saskatchewan. The motherfucking mosquitoes had sucked a pound of blood out of my baby. She was pale as your father and I were after that weekend from all the rye we drank. Other than that, none of you got hurt for a change so it was a pretty uneventful weekend. Just what you'd expect in Saskatchewan."

2 comments:

mollymew said...

Ah Beer, Beer, Beer,
I was born in and spent the first half of my life in Saskatchewan. We NEVER referred to ourselves as "rednecks", but we were sure proud "hicks".
I gotta admit that I was a red diaper baby, but even so it wasn't just my relatives who had the following opinion:
Being as the Christian fascists of Alberta established a "kill zone" for rats crossing over from Saskatchewan to contaminate their pristine and holy province we should establish a similar kill zone for missionaries and other fascists crossing over from Alberta. Nobody doubted that 1)we had as many guns as they did (this was long before 'gun control') and 2)we were better shots because we didn't have to make a prayer to Jesus before pulling the trigger.
AH, sweet memory ???? By the way I had no idea of how bad mosquitoes were until I moved out here to Manitoba. I grew up in shit poor farming land within a 20 minute walk to Last Mountain Lake, and I don't recall the mosquitoes as being any problem, despite the fact that there were many unfarmable ponds and valleys around. Some of this entomology stuff is beyond my comprehension.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

I only ever met one person who was fresh from Saskatchewan. (There's shitloads of the buggers who have moved out west to Dope City for good. Until now, I thought everybody from Saskatchewan moved west when they wanted out. You must be the only ex-Saskatchewinian to move to Jet City.) He was a farm boy: all denim, Cat hat on top. Me and my buddies took him to one of the best punk rock shows ever - a Subhumans Canada Day hall show. Scared the shit out of him. He has been scared to leave Saskatchewan ever since.