Whointhewhatnow?

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Outlook, Saskatchewan, Canada
Production manager of a weekly newspaper in Outlook, Saskatchewan. The blog url of midsask.blogspot.com has absolutely nothing to do with MidSask REDA, though, they do very good work throughout the Lake Diefenbaker Region.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Between Raisin' Hell An' Amazin' Grace Pt. 2

“If you will please give generously as the collection plate is passed around,” the preacher said with a kind smile. The service was drawing to it's end, as the well known rituals were conducted. “Please don't forget, we will be holding a small picnic this afternoon, so I do hope that you will all attend. I have been informed that the Women's Christian League...”

The preacher's announcement was never finished as the doors to the church burst open. All eyes turned as a small boy, no more than nine or ten came running down the center ailse. “Quick!” he shouted, not waiting for the looks of annoyance to become scolding voices for his rudeness. “Ya gotta come quick. Black Mask is robbin' the bank 'cross the street.”

The entire church sat in stunned silence for a brief moment. Finally, one man jumped to his feet, racing to the back of the church to collect his trappings. One of the deputies, he called out to anyone who would listen. “Sheriff Calloway's at the station house! Somebody has to get him!” The boy who just made the announcement bolted out the door, racing to the station house.

The congregation then had their worst fears confirmed as they heard a loud shout that penetrated the walls of the church.

“Dang it, kid!” Shani cried out in a scolding voice. “Sunday ain't no day ta rouse people from their rest.”

“It's true!” one woman said as she looked through a pane in the stained glass. She could see Shani on her horse, the satchels filled to the brim as money bills floated out. “It's the Black Mask!” More of the men in the church began to rush to the back, shouting out they would offer assistance to capture her. The preacher himself shouting out Biblical verses, an attempt to encourage the men to victory.

“We ain't gittin' a slow ride t'day, Gipsum,” Shani called out to the quarter horse as she spurred him forward. “C'mon, time ta git!” Gipsum knew all too well what this was like. Shani would ride him hard, until any pursuers were no where in sight. And he was looking forward to a nice stable with hay and water.

The shouts behind her spurred her to move faster. Even the horse became a bit more desperate. Escape was all they had to do, get out of Harrisburg, on the road and lay low for a few days. To think, a nine year old started this little posse. “Last time I rob a place on a Sunday,” Shani muttered to herself as the horse's hooves pounded the cobbled street. “South, thet's our best bet, Gipsum. We head a good stretch south, an' then we start makin' our way back north. May be cold come winter, but I doubt anybody's gonna care ta look fer us.” The words were more an encouragement for herself than for the horse. This town had already achieved mob mentality. “Dang right, last time I rob a place on a Sunday, mark my words.”

*****

“So 'ow's the 'ome life, Capt'n?” Pania asked as the small group slowly moved along the road. They had only been traveling for fifteen minutes and no one had said a word. So Pania decided to start the conversation. The stoic looks upon the faces of her escort did not change at all.

“I am not permitted to speak to you,” Williams responded in a gruff tone. “Besides, I've been warned of your sultry ways. How you charm men to do your bidding. How you bed them down and leave them with nothing.”

“Oh!” Pania said with a slight grin. “Those from them dime store novels 'gain, Capt'n? B'cause, I'll le' ye in on a secret.” She leaned over in her saddle as she moved her horse closer to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I dunna sleep wit' men, Capt'n. I prefer ta bed down with their wives.” Captain Williams looked over to her for the first time since they began riding, a look of disgust on his face. Pania only grinned and winked at him. “I s'ppose I'll 'ang fer tha' one.”

“The more serious crimes are what we're concerned with, Miss Alow,” Williams replied. “Your goddless and heathen ways will have to be dealt with on your own, when you meet your maker.”

“Oh, don' ye bloody star' preachin' ta me, Capt'n,” Pania huffed, her voice filled with disgust. “I've at least read yer Bible, an' there's thin's I've seen tha' ye people should be ashamed o'. The way ye treat the tribes fer example.”

“Goddless savages,” Captain Williams spat. “They refuse to see the light, and therefore become an enemy of this great nation.”

“Ye know they were 'ere first, righ',” Pania remarked. She let out a breath as she shook her head, bringing her horse to a complete stop. The soldiers responded, stopping the small escort as they looked to Captain Williams for orders. “'Onestly, Capt'n. Did ye miss the par' wha' said do unta others as ye would 'ave 'em do unto ye?”

Captain Williams steered his horse to face Pania, a look of rage in his eyes. “I have my orders Miss Alow. I am not here to debate things which you have no clue of. I suggest you keep your mouth shut until we get to Harrisburg.”

There was an icy calm that settled between the two, one that could only end in violence should the conversation be pressed further. Pania only hoped that some of these soldiers saw she did not reach for any of her weapons, even though they had left her unshackled.

“Fine,” Pania huffed as she looked to the sky. “Gettin' on noon. We bes' make tracks 'en, shouldn't we.” She prodded the horse forward and the small company joined her movement. It wasn't for very long, as almost seconds later, Williams stopped the group dead in their tracks. Harrisburg was not far away, they could see it on the horizon.

They could also see a very large cloud of dust that sped quickly away from Harrisburg, toward them.

“Tha' look like a lotta people,” Pania remarked. “Wonder if they in tha' much o' a 'urry ta get ta their Sunday picnic.”

Williams shot Pania a look but quickly shrugged off the comment as he turned to his men. “Weapons, men. Protect the prisoner at all costs.” The soldiers brought their rifles up, making sure they were loaded, cocked and ready in case the unidentified group was rushing toward them with ill intent.

Pania smiled slightly and turned to Williams. “Protectin'! Thank ye, Capt'n, ye so sweet sometimes.”

*****

“C'mon hawse!” Shani shouted as the quarter horse's hooves pounded the dirt beneath him. She had some time, she got a head start after all. The posse was still gathering extra men. But there were enough that were blazing a trail toward her already, and they weren't that far back. At least, not far enough back for Shani's tastes. “I'd shout eat my dust, but theys already doin' thet. HA!” She ventured a look behind her, taking an estimate of how many had already started to give chase. “Dang it, Gipsum. We gots fifteen on our asses already.”

On your ass, the horse thought. They'll let me graze at least.

The growing posse was starting to pick up momentum. Spurred on by a combination of the encouraging words spoken earlier by the preacher, the $50,000 reward on Shani's head, dead or alive, and the sheer audacity that someone would attempt to rob a bank on a Sunday. They were determined to catch Black Mask, and make her pay. The lead riders had weapons drawn, and two of them took shots at Shani with their pistols.

“Dang it, y'all git uppity fer someone bustin' up yer day o' rest,” Shani shouted back in reply to the pistol fire. “Whyn't y'all take a breather an' jist let me go.” Of course, there was no response, and the posse did not slow down in it's chase of the lithe elf. Shani shouted out a command to spur the horse faster, but Gipsum was already running full tilt.

The posse behind her responded in kind, as hoops and hollers sounded out, their own horses responding as their lunged forward in their quest. Again, they fired toward the lone rider, hoping a stray bullet would hit her, and knock her off the horse. But there was no indication that she had taken any wounds.

“So dang glad y'all crappy shots,” she called out as she drew one of her Colts and fired back, aiming above the heads of her pursuers. Perhaps the return fire would begin to discourage them some how. The pounding of the horse hooves behind her told her that no, in fact it only encouraged them to push forward. “Didn't y'all read the wanted posters?” Shani shouted back. “I'm considered extremely dangerous, an' y'all shouldn't approach me. Jist inform the proper authorities.” Desperation was clawing at Shani. She'd been chased before, but never by a group so large “Wanted posters,” she snorted under her breath. “Yeah, alla thet information's jist a buncha bullshit. Proper authorities my ass!”

Strange how irony hits sometimes. Shani rode hard and fast, even as she caught sight of the small group of riders on the crest of a hill. “Ain't no way someone got a message thet fast ta the Army. This is jist a bad series o' coincidences. HA!” She spurred her mount to move faster as she thought of some way to get out of the obvious predicament she had suddenly discovered herself in.

*****

“Sir,” one of the soldiers piped up with excitement in his voice. “I'm certain that's the Black Mask.” Williams guided his horse for a better look, his brow furrowing as he suddenly had a decision to make. Leave his current prisoner and pursue this new target, or leave Black Mask to the mob behind them. He had his orders, but they also included the capture of Black Mask.

“Johnson!” Williams barked. “Stay with the prisoner. The rest of you, come with me.” His men wordlessly followed his orders and began to ride fast down the hill, leaving Johnson to stand guard over the pale elf.

Pania looked over to her new guard with a smile. “So tha's the Black Mask.” Johnson didn't bat an eye. “I've 'eard she's dangerous.” Again, no response. Pania watched Williams and his men as they raced toward the distant rider. She could tell there was a hesitation in Black Mask as she now had a group behind her, and one bearing down upon her. Pania sighed as she watched the Black Mask fire wildly into the air, causing some of the soldiers to break formation. This only allowed the Mask to steer her horse through the ranks and break out in the open again. “I think ye better go 'elp 'em.”

Johnson finally looked Pania square in the eye. “I have my orders, ma'am.”

“I know,” Pania cooed. “Bu', it look like they 'avin' some trouble catchin' 'er. Jus' think o' the 'commendation ye'd receive fer the 'eroic capture o' one o' the most dangerous criminals ever ta roam these parts.”

“We've already captured you, ma'am,” Johnson replied without hesitation.

“She's worse, I'm sure,” Pania said with a firm nod. Johnson didn't move, but Pania kept looking back to the riders, then back to Johnson. “Time's short, lad. Bes' make ye decision. Capt'n Williams'll either 'ave ye 'ead fer leavin' me, 'r lettin' Black Mask escape when she's so close. Pania could almost hear the gears turning in the young soldiers head. She was getting through to him.

Johnson took a deep breath, and for the first time, stuttered. “Y... you'll stay here? Wait until I come back.”

“'Ave me word,” Pania said with a smile. Johnson looked back and forth between the chase, and Pania. Finally, he spurred his mount forward, racing to help. “'Course, I dunna 'xpect ye ta come back,” Pania mused to herself as soon as Johnson was out of earshot. “I've always wanted ta meet the elf known as Black Mask anyway.”

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Between Raisin' Hell An' Amazin' Grace Pt. 1

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, August 16, 1863

The citizens of Harrisburg attended to their usual Sunday rituals. It was a warm summer day, and picnics had been planned after the church services. The pace was slow, fitting for the day, as people walked down the streets from their homes, or rode in horse drawn carriages to their local church. No one seemed to pay any heed to the wanted posters which seemed to litter the lamp posts and bulletin boards. Reward, they proclaimed in bold letters. Wanted. Dead or Alive. $50,000. A high price indeed. But then, the Eastern Seaboard and into the Midwestern United States knew the name of the Black Mask all too well.

For some, it was from tales of infamy, this black masked rider, robbing stage coaches and banks across the Midwest and into the Eastern States. Threatening the lives of those who would dare stand against her. Yes, there was that as well. This highwayman, was in fact a woman.

It was that fact alone that the dime store novels called The Adventures of the Black Mask sold so well, making a little known author a good deal of money for his work. Avid readers would clamor for the latest adventure to read what their "heroine" would do to get herself into and out of trouble. She became as popular as she was infamous, and it was that fame that caused a rift between the public and the federal lawmen trying to catch her.

But neither the law men, nor the public, had any idea what the Black Mask was really all about.
Only Shani Wennemein did.

She rode her horse slowly past the church, almost as though she were in solemn prayer. She didn't believe in the religion or the gods of this world, but she would at least respect them. No stealing from a church. No shooting a minister. No gun play in the halls of a cathedral.

But there was nothing in the good book that said banks were out of the question.
Shani smirked as she looked up, taking a tug on the cigarillo as she steered the horse toward the First National Bank and Loan building. Very people took notice of her as she stopped the horse in front of a tavern. She casually dismounted the horse, not bothering to walk toward the establishment. It was Sunday morning, it would be closed. She kept her long coat buttoned, hiding the pair of six guns that hung at her hips. Weapons she had grown used to wielding only three short years before when she first found this plane called Earth.

Someplace between hell and amazing grace, Shani would often call it. Here on Earth, she came to raise hell. The thrill of the chase. In a place where her brother could not corral her and lecture her.

She tipped her hat as a few citizens passed her by. People would remember a kind smile and warm eyes more than the fire and brimstone that the preachers in the church would call her. The thought of her relation to a demon. They mistook her elven heritage for that of a demon or devil. These humans, so quick to judge. No wonder the Indians had their problems with the European settlers.

Shani flipped out her pocket watch and checked the time. She scanned the streets and watched the last of the citizens entering their churches to pray, and a smile formed on her lips as she looked skyward. "Well Lord. Can't say I worship ya none, but I gotta pray ta make certain ain't no one git in my way as I liberate this here bank o' it's funds. There's people more needy 'n these here thet could use this ta survive." As she clicked the pocket watch closed, she raised the black mask over her face and unbuttoned the long coat. Time for the Black Mask to go to work.

*****

"And I looked, and behold a pale horse," the preacher cried out from the pulpit, fist held high in the air, his voice filled with fire and brimstone. "And his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth." The preacher fell silent as he looked out upon the congregation, the pause in his sermon acting as dramatic effect. "Friends," he finally said in a softer tone. "I speak to you of these words from the Book of Revelations, because I have seen that very rider." He held his hand high and his voice raised slightly. "Nay, I have seen two of those riders. Just as you have seen them. You see them on the wanted posters, which I have heard decorate newspapers and bulletin boards from here to Tombstone. The Pale Rider, and the Black Mask." He paused again, letting this information sink in to the ears of his parishioners.

"To date, these two have been a plague on our society," the preacher announced. "They are everything that the Bible teaches us not to follow. Just last week, it was heard that Black Mask ransacked a caravan, laying waste to all those who rode the carriages. And Pale Rider. She aids the savage Indians that have fought us in the past." He paused again as he rested both his hands on the pulpit, studying his congregation intently. "These actions themselves are nothing, compared to their... suspect lineage, my friends. Should you ever have seen them as I have, they both have rather pointed ears. Pointed ears, I say.” There was a small gasp of shock from the congregation, encouraging the preacher to continue. “This alone proves they are demons and devils set upon this earth to thwart good God fearing men and women."

The congregation was riveted to every word, not even blinking as he spewed forth lies of his own. Uneducated drivel, as some might say. But this revelation would not have stopped him. Because he had God on his side.

"I ask each and every one of you, to pray, now. Pray that these heathens are captured, and they in kind, face God's mighty wrath."

*****

Pania Alow tossed the duster coat to the ground and rolled up her sleeves. Deer Chaser had taken a bad hit by a rancher's bullet. The metal shard had cut through a major artery, and the bleeding was bad. She quickly worked, covering the wound with a cloth and pressing her hand against it to quell the flow. Two of the braves that brought Deer Chaser to her tried to help her, but her patient was struggling against the pain.

"Fire water," one of them suggested.

The pale elf shook her head. "I'll no' use whiskey ta deaden the pain. No' when them Europeans 'ave been tryin' ta push it onta ye." She reached to her boot and pulled a knife from a small scabbard and sighed as she looked into Deer Chaser's eyes. "This is gonna 'urt." She looked to the pair of braves as they took firm hands to hold down Deer Chaser as Pania did her work. The pale elf took a deep breath and nodded to Deer Chaser. As he nodded back, she quickly straddled his form and took her hand away from his wound, the blood soaked cloth falling slowly from the bullet wound. She had to move quickly, stabbing the dagger into his shoulder. His voice cried out in pain as she dug for the bullet, one of his companions at the ready, hand hovering over a hot iron to cauterize the wound after the small elf finished. Deer Chaser's eyes rolled back as his screams of pain fell short, just as Pania extracted the bullet.

“NOW!” she shouted, and the brave closed the wound. Pania moved back, grabbing a basin of water to clean the now closed wound. She felt along Deer Chaser's neck, finding a weak pulse. “'E'll be fine. Jus' get 'im back ta the tribe, le' 'im rest fer a time.”

“What of you?” one of the braves asked. “Law men chase you. They will always hunt you.”

“I know,” Pania said as she sat back against a large rock. “Jus' b'cause I give aid ta savages.” She sighed to emphasize the sarcasm in her voice. These Indians weren't savages. They were people. The Europeans were just too blind to see. “No' many places lef' ta run, mind ye.”

One of the braves slapped her on the shoulder and smiled. “For what you do for the people, we will always offer you shelter.”

Pania nodded as she offered a kind smile. She looked as Deer chaser began to rouse from his force slumber. “Careful, lad,” she warned. “Ye'll still be in a bit o' pain fer a while.” She held out the slug she dug out of his shoulder to him. “A souvenir o' ye day.”

Deer Chaser gingerly took the slug and studied it as he furrowed his brow. “Odd, that something so small, would hurt so much.”

The pale elf only nodded as she rose to her feet. “Bes' be off m'self. I'd start movin' yeselves. Slowly, mind ye. Never know wha' the lawmen 'roun' 'ere gonna do ta three like ye.” She grabbed her gear and walked to her horse, giving one last look back to the trio. A tip of her hat and a small smile was all that needed to be said, and she mounted the chestnut mare with ease and began moving south.

After all, Harrisburg might be nice this time of year.

One of the braves rose to his feet, waving solemnly as she rode on. “Watch the trail, Pale Rider.”

*****

The steel bars that stood in front of the bank vault were no match for Shani's skill with a lock. The padlock, as new as it looked, was easily picked and quickly gave into the elf's lithe fingers. Now it was time for the vault, and this would be much more difficult. But not by much.

Her keen elven ears listened as the tumblers dropped into position, turning the combination lock slowly until the final click could be heard. Shani gave a small laugh as she opened the vault. “This here's easier 'n stage coaches,” she whispered to no one in particular. Her enthusiasm was clear, this would be the biggest haul of her short, yet storied career on Earth, and she hadn't even toured Europe yet. Her attention was focused completely on the bags of money that had been sorted the previous Friday. Only a few would need to be taken, no reason to be that greedy. Besides, there was a small farming community that could use the funds due to the recent drought.

As she filled her satchel, she didn't even hear the scuffle of tiny feet behind her. In her planning, she never assumed that someone would have followed her inside the bank. This became apparent in the next few seconds.

“Hi!” the rather excited voice of the child said behind her as she dropped her satchel and reached for her irons. She stopped just as she was about to cock the hammers back and let out a quick breath. Shani couldn't believe that a nine year old had gotten the drop on her Sloppy, Shan, real sloppy.

“Kid,” Shani said to the boy as he grinned happily. “Y'almost got yerself a gut fulla bullets.” She holstered the long barrel Colts and picked up her satchel, keeping an eye on the boy. “What the hell ya doin' here anyhow? Ain't ya s'pposed ta be in church now?”

“I snuck out,” he replied with a grin. “Yer the Black Mask, aintcha?” He seemed way too excited to be meeting one of the United States most wanted criminals. “I wanna ride with ya!”

Shani was about to start walking out of the vault, but the boy's words made her stop rather quickly. “No!” she said with a great deal of force. “I ain't yer mamma, an' I ain't 'bout ta take some wet b'hind the ears kid with me on the run. What I do's dangerous, an' I ain't 'bout ta risk the life o' some kid.”

The boy frowned slightly at the rejection, he almost appeared as though he was going to start crying. “But you risk yourself everyday.”

“Yeah,” she replied quickly as she began moving out of the bank. “B'cause I know what the hell I'm doin'.”

“You take me with ya, 'r I'm tellin'!” the boy shouted at her.

“Yeah, y'all go 'head an' do thet, kid,” Shani scoffed as she loaded the satchels onto the horse. The quarter horse chuffled in minor protest, knowing that he'd have to bolt at a full gallop soon enough. “Like anybody's gonna b'lieve ya thet I'm in...” She stopped speaking as she settled into the saddle. The boy was gone. She scanned the streets for the nine year old, only the tell tale sound of the church doors slamming gave her any indication where the boy had gone. “Well... shit!”

*****

Pania let the chestnut mare follow the trail without any coaxing. After all, she wasn't unfamiliar with the territory. The elf that had become known as Pale Rider to the tribes was used to carrying medical supplies back and forth. In a way, Pania was a stage coach robber as well, hitting only coaches that carried medicines. She took only as much as was needed, and often the stage coaches carried an excess of supplies. It was these actions, as well as giving them to the Indians, that made her wanted by federal law. She wasn't sure what the price on her head was, but if she could save a few people, it was all worth it.

Her mind wandered as she sat in the saddle. She was tired, it had been a hard few days of riding, and only more coming in the next few days. New Orleans was a long ride. But she supposed that pissing in the United States government's oatmeal wasn't enough, she had to do it to the Confederates as well. The war had been raging for two years, all over slavery. And she planned to get involved. And no better way than getting involved in the Underground Railroad. Besides, she knew a few trails that lead to the British Northwestern Territories.

Pania's thoughts were so focused on what she wanted to do, she didn't think about what she needed to do. So it came as no surprise that she found herself suddenly surrounded. Pania only sighed as she looked over the uniforms of the US soldiers. She recognized one of them and smiled as her gaze stopped on him. “Mornin' Capt'n Williams,” she said with a broad smile. “Nice ta see ye out fer a ride with the boys on such a fine day. Wha' bring ye out this way?”

“Pania Alow,” Williams announced without fail, ignoring Pania's greeting. “Also known as the Pale Rider. You are here by bound by law. You will be placed under arrest, charged with robbery, aiding the enemy, and murder.”

“Murder!” Pania shot back with some shock. “I think ye been readin' 'em dime store novels too much, Capt'n. I've no' drawn blood bu' in self d'fense.”

“You will be taken to Harrisburg,” Williams continued. “Where you will await transport to Washington where you will stand trial.”

“Ooo! 'Arrisburg,” she said with a grin. “I were 'eadin' tha' way anyway.” She moved her horse closer to the Captain, stopping only when the soldiers cocked their rifles. “Easy, boys. I'm no' the Black Mask, I'm no' a quick draw specialist.” She looked back to Williams with a smile. “So, shall we ge' goin' then. I'd like ta see the President 'ventually. After all, I'd like ta speak with 'im 'bout the slave trade in the south.”

Williams opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't. He had been told Pale Rider was a dangerous criminal, blood thirsty and would stop at nothing to escape. But here she sat on her horse, waiting to be escorted. “Uh... this is... rather unexpected.”

“Wha'?” Pania replied with a laugh. “I were goin' ta 'Arrisburg anyway, an' ye 'ave yer orders ta take me there. It's a win win situation, 'far as I can see.” She casually looked over the soldiers with a grin. “C'mon boys, chop chop. Dunna fall b'hind.” She steered her horse down the trail, stopping only to look back at Williams and his men. “Ye comin' 'r no'?”

Eventually Williams motioned his soldiers forward. Pania's actions still confused him. The ride along the road confused him even more, as he listened to Pania hum gospel hymns as they sauntered along. What he didn't know was that Pania's calm and gentle demeanor was actually a ruse. After all, she had to ditch her armed escort somehow, and she plotted and schemed as she casually rode along with the boys.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Paranoid

This is a local band out of Outlook. I have it on good information that they are putting together a demo, and putting together their own material. They are called Fragile Transit. Check it out.

Until the day the music dies...

...keep 'em flyin'.

Adventures of Black Mask and Pale Rider

I will be continuing Canyons of Steel at some point. Currently, I am cleaning up the first two chapters, expanding them and turning them into a book. Hopefully I'll have news on that in the near future.

But, I have also had some other stories kickin' around up in the ol' brain pan. And in the want to write a fantasy western, I've decided to take two characters and start writing. The series of short stories will be called Adventures of Black Mask and Pale Rider, using my elven characters Shani Wennemein and Pania Alow. Magical elves as gunslingers in 1863 United States.

I won't say anymore, other than I have the first chapter of the first story in the can, so to speak. But, I will provide this lovely teaser for you.
Until the south will rise again...

...keep 'em flyin'!

Friday, August 15, 2008

Last Saskatchewan Pirate

Saskatoon Ex had some great stuff this year. Including this accidental find. A band by the name of Fun in the Front seat. They played a rendition the Last Saskatchewan Pirate.

Here's the lyrics to sing along.

I used to be a farmer, and I made a living fine,
I had a little stretch of land along the CP line
But times were hard and though I tried, the money wasn't there
And bankers came and took my land and told me "fair is fair"

I looked for every kind of job, the answer always no
"Hire you now?" they'd always laugh, "we just let twenty go!"
The government, the promised me a measly little sum
But I've got too much pride to end up just another bum.

Then I thought, who gives a damn if all the jobs are gone?
I'm gonna be a PIRATE on the river Saskatchewan!!!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

Well, you'd think the local farmers would know that I'm at
large
But just the other day I found an unprotected barge
I snuck up right behind them and they were none the wiser,
I rammed their ship and sank it and I stole their fertilizer!

A bridge outside of Moosejaw spans a mighty river
Farmers cross in so much fear their stomachs are a'quiver
Cause they know that Captain Tractor is waitin' in the bay
I'll jump the bridge and knock them cold and sail off with their hay!

And it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

Well, Mountie Bob he chased me, he was always at my throat
He followed on the shoreline cause he didn't own a boat
But cutbacks were a'coming and the Mountie lost his job
And now he's sailing with us, and we call him Salty Bob!

A swingin' sword, a skull and bones and pleasant company
I never pay my income tax and screw the GST (SCREW IT!!)
Sailin down to Saskatoon, the terror of the seas
If you wanna reach the co-op, boy, you gotta get by me!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

(*spoken* Arrrr! Ya salty dog!)
(*spoken* Arrrr! Ya salty gopher!)
(*spoken* Arr.. ya.. salty bale of hay!)
Well, Pirate life's appealing but you just don't find it here,
I hear in North Alberta there's a band of buccaneers
They roam the Athabaska from Smith to Fort McKay
And you're sure to loose your stetson if you have to pass their
way!

Well, winter is a'comin' and a chill is in the breeze
My Pirate days are over once the river starts to freeze
I'll be back in springtime but now I have to go
I hear there's lots of plunderin' down in New Mexico!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores...
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores...

When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores...
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores...

Saturday, August 9, 2008

The 40 buck ride



What began as a great afternoon of taking in rides, turned into one of the most expensive rides ever. But no one could have predicted that a lightning storm would end the midway at the Saskatoon Ex. A friend of mine bought a super pass to the rides for 40 dollars. This is the only ride he went on.

All good things

As the title says, all good things must come to an end.

The Saskatchewan Roughriders winning streak came to a halt on Thursday as the Calgary Stampeders came into Mosaic Stadium. The Stamps were still hurting after the Riders pulled out a close on in Calgary. And now, the Stamps did it to the Riders.

But it was close. The final was 30 to 25, and the Stamps had to rally to try and stop a fourth quarter surge from the Riders.

A loss means only one thing for Saskatchewan. They have to string six more straight wins. And the schedule looks pretty good. A date in Edmonton, which could be tough. Two games against Winnipeg, who are bottom of the league this year. That could be three in a row right there.

Until next time...

...keep 'em flyin'!