One for the Money, Two for the Show...

There was definitely money, and there sure was a show. And there was me, having my little mind expanded and amused. Last night, I stayed out waaaaay past my bedtime, I went to a casino and I saw those grizzled gods of 70s Canadian classic rock, Trooper. Yes, Trooper. They are still alive, quite well, it would seem, and playing to frantically devoted crowds in places such as the Deerfoot Casino. And I was there to feel the magic.....

Trooper is one of Dad's faves, so my sis, bro-in-law, and myself all accompanied Dad on his outing to see his band. This led to my being in the aforementioned casino. Boy, what a surprise for little old me. I do not frequent casinos. I would have hardly be able to tell you what goes on in one, save for last night. Now I know. I beheld bank after bank of blinking, chirping, whirling game machines, food stalls, a cashier place behind strands of giant barbed wire, free coffee table (!!), real live game tables, where real live people were playing card games with real live dealers, just like you see in the movies (and didn't my clever brother-in-law, Wally, just go and win $50 at one such table), little people with wagons of snackies, going up and down the aisles of machines, offering much-needed MSG to peckish players, gamblers galore, both serious and fun-seeking, and last, but surely not least, two poor girls on little platforms, wearing skin-tight pants from the Suzy Shier $20 and under rack, doing some kind of gyrating dance moves which were falling on a distincly disinterested audience. I kind of needed to have a little lie-down about 5 minutes after we arrived.

Dad took us to the lounge/pub thing, where he treated us to a great supper of appys, which we all shared. I downed 2 whiskey sours fairly quickly, to fortify myself against the excitement to come. It was really fun. Then, we braved the battlefield of the casino afterward, to fill in the time till Trooper began. Dad gave me $15 to play the machines, and Wyn had to show me the ropes. I went right to a machine which featured monkeys. I knew in my heart that they were lucky monkeys. In went my $5, and out came fuck-all. Stupid stupid lucky monkeys. Wyn played poker on a card machine, and there was yet another shock for me. Who knew that that old Kenny Rogers song was about my sister? Gambler, indeed. She knew all about flushes and pairs and straight-somethings... I could only sit in amazement. Sadly, though, she musn't have known quite when to walk away, or when to run, 'cause she, too, lost her dosh. We ran into a newly flush Wally, riding high on his success at the blackjack table, and on into the show we went.

Got drinks and found our seats in short order. The crowd needs a touch of explanation. Everyone was 50, if they were a day, and there appeared to be some kind of female weight minimum in effect. You must tip in at at least 250 to be a bona fide Trooper fan. (I later suggested that we send Wyn over to the merch table, where the band was signing stuff, purely to show that there was at least one audience member under 40, and under 250. It would have done their little hearts good, I'm sure.) They were seriously stoked for the show. There was some mild rocking out to the canned music before the show even began. And then, poof, Trooper took to the stage, and we all time-travelled back to the good old days of rock and roll. Ra McGuire's voice really is something else. He can hold a note longer than anyone I've ever heard, save from the ranks of opera singers. He held the front of the stage with his astounding vocal prowess, melodramatic hand gestures, bobbing bald head, and artful microphone flinging. Bass player was pretty rock-solid, and young enough to be the oldies' son. Guitar hero Brian Smith