The Hugh Jackman Way to Travel

Song-and-Dance men Dodds and Tierney supped late on empanadas and cheese cake. All provided courtesy of Brenda and Kim Ward, whose lovely home set the stage on which we stuffed our yaps while looking out at the Saskatchewan river winding by.

Meanwhile a laptop charged near-by.

The Wards live 30 minutes from the train station. Time tumble-weeded by. Suddenly, it was time to say goodbye. Dodds and Tierney did. Halfway to the station Dodds’s laptop, umbilicaled to a socket in the Ward’s abode, sent Dodds a telepathic note to self: Wake me up before you go go! 

Thank god we had 15 minutes to drive the half-hour drive.

Random Adamantium Thoughts:

How many demerit points for going 126km/hr in a 50 zone? 

I don’t want to die just to go to Edmonton. But I’m willing to die for the poetry tour. 

Which one of the two would Dodds choose to be: Thelma or Louise? 

Fishtailing down the wrong way, parallel to the tracks, we had to crank the van into a cruller before curbjumping: Just drive over it, just drive over it, from the lovely Miss Hancock, who darted from a half-open van door to try and hold our choo-choo. (If Charmaine asks, none of this happened.)

We slept like curdled milk on our coach seats on the overnight to Edmonton city. The choo-choo’s blowhole blowing its own horn the whole damn way.