The hidden years in Canada 110, the plumbers

Door San-Daniel gepubliceerd op Monday 03 August 17:05



I kept the whole week very calm and my headache grew less per day. There were days in which I could not read or watch TV. I did not go outside without sunglasses and I was bored. I was very curious about the results of the state laboratory, not all gold is worth as much as you might think.. At the end of the week I felt normal and I decided to call Hash Moon plumbers. ‘Only in the evenings,’ the recording stated . ‘Yes, who is calling me,’ came a stressed voice when I phoned back later. ‘We have talked a few weeks ago,’ I said, ‘you have me on the list for a project at Lake Bonavista, you said I was number one on that list.’ I have lots of lists ‘, the man replied,’ and I have a lot of number ones, are you strong boy? ‘ ‘Yes’ I answered. ‘That's good because we have no use for candy asses  ‘What were you going to do again?’ ‘You said I could start as an apprentice plumber, I answered?’ Nice that’s what you get then. I'm busy right now, you go Monday to Lake Bonavista and ask for the foreman of Hash Moon, have a nice evening.‘ The click made it clear that the conversation was over..

It had been a strange and hard conversation, rather impersonal, but the man who had spoken was still working and it was late, which made me assume that Hash Moon had a lot of work on their hands. That seemed like a good sign, I was wondering what my day would be like on Monday. Weekend! , It was almost weekend and I thought of Debbie, the pancake girl and the love-in of Ken, that would take place this weekend. I just might be wanting some pancakes, I thought. The old Pontiac fired immediately by the first touch and automatically I turned the chrome button on the radio that would give me access to the world of CKXL.The signature tune immediately filled the cabin of the old American. ..At The top of your dial at 114, CKXL .. ‘Yeah’ said the cheerful voice of the DJ..American Woman .... The pscychedelic guitar intro was followed by a critical tekst about American women .. The lead guitar had a hypnotizing effect, I could imagine that this would be such a hit that it would always be 'good'. Some hits, you simply knew had something very special that would never bore you. The heavy car slid through the now quiet streets and in the distance I saw the sign of the pancake house.


The neon light shone hard outside and Debbie stood behind an empty counter. She looked surprised when I stepped inside. ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘my urban cowboy. I took my hat off. ‘Been to the Queens’, she asked, and I understood that she was looking at the scar over my eyebrow. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘that was probably an Elk or a Chucklewig or both. ‘What sort of a chuckle,’ she asked? ‘That's a long story,’ I laughed, ‘maybe I'll tell you tomorrow.’ ‘Oh, what will happen tomorrow,’ she asked? ‘Then, you and I go to Ken's love-in,’ I said with a smile from ear to ear. ‘That remains to be seen,’ she said earnestly, and she picked up a small black notebook out of her bag and began to flip through it. ‘Hmm, might be, yes you can!’ She turned around and went to fill a coffee can. The booklet was lying face up with the page. The page was empty! ‘I am very happy,’ I said. She put the can n the counter and wrote down an address, ‘you can call on me tomorrow at 9 ‘clock, pick me up big boy, she laughed.

San Daniel 2015

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