I had a gig on the weekend in a small town in south-central Alberta, which is probably a lot like south-central L.A. but withouth the people or the buildings. Or the climate. And with a greater life-expectancy.
Actually, it's nothing at all like south-central L.A.
It doesn't take long once you get past the foothills to reach a landscape sometimes affectionately (and other times not-so-affectionately) referred to as 'bald-ass prairie'. Yes, but early in the morning it's gorgeous. On the drive home I passed a coyote, some deer and two hawks all within ten minutes. Oh - and geese. Yup. Geese too.
And the gig? Good. It was held in the town's one and only bar and, as I had been told it would be, it was virtually dead until 10pm. Ten p.m. - the witching hour. The place began to fill up and we ended up having a great time. It's probably a good thing the place had been quiet until then - if they'd had three hours to drink before my show, they might not have followed ANYTHING I was doing.