» Home
» About Us
» Our Programs
» Awards
» Honour
» Literary Arts
» Arts Education
» Community
» Grants
» Okanagan Arts
» Directory
» Events Calendar
» News, Views, Reviews
» Open Studios
» Join Now
» Contact Us
A hearty feast of free readings, lectures, presentations, workshops and showcases celebrating our culture, community and the wild blue yonder.
 Where inquiring minds gather.
Okanagan Institute
at Hanna's Lounge
Click here for schedule
and information. |
Arts Council of the Central Okanagan is a resource centre and advocate for the arts in Kelowna and Central Okanagan. Find us at:
8-1304 Ellis Street
Kelowna BC V1Y 1Z8
Phone: 250.861.4123
Fax: 250.861.4155
Email: Click here
| |
|
Join the Arts Council of the Central Okanagan today and you will:
» Meet people who are involved in our arts community, and stay informed.
» Receive our weekly email newsletter, The Junction.
» Become eligible for group member grants.
» Have a worthy advocate to protect your artistic and cultural rights.
» Be able to join ARTSCO's special projects.
Click here to apply.
Financial support for KADAC is provided in part by:
Support Our Valued Sponsors:
Web & Emailing Hosting for Nonprofits and Publishers.
Smart Digital and Print Design and Publication Services.
This website is copyright:
|
Programs:
Literary Arts
Border Town Bar Vicki Bissillion
I remember the first thing I noticed was her tee shirt. It was a patriotic red, white and blue, abstract motif, short and tight. The unkind expression "rode hard and put away wet," came to mind. She was a forty-something American with messy blond curls that bounced in time to the music, expertly applied eye makeup, and blood red lips. Well-fitting designer cutoffs hugged plump buttocks and high-heeled white runners danced on her feet. Heck, this was Progresso, Mexico - who cared?
The woman was having a ball as she danced with all the old guys waiting for their wives. It didn't matter if no one asked her to dance. She'd grab an unsuspecting bar patron on his return from the caballeros room. Some of them waved her away in fright, having observed her provocative antics earlier. They would quicken their step towards the safety of their table, lest their companions think they'd been flirting. She'd just laugh and target someone else.
There were about fifty tourists in the dimly lit bar. Most were couples clutching bright plaid shopping bags or men who were 'virtually connected' to their still-shopping wives by little squawking 'walkies'. They were the rebels, tired of following their ladies around, feigning interest in silver jewellery and brightly painted pottery.
They would ask, "What is the point in looking at two dozen booths of the same loud, tacky pottery and then doubling back to haggle at the first one?"
They didn't 'get' a woman's concept of shopping.
Our husbands were part of the rebel group, enjoying their cervesas and watching the action on the dance floor. They had been half an hour ahead of us and had 'walky-talked' us to this bar at the rear of a trinkets and trash store. We paused just inside and let our eyes become accustomed to the subdued yellow light. A group of us had come down from our Winter Texan R.V. Park for a day of browsing and bargaining for trinkets we didn't even know we needed, until we saw them twinkling and tempting in the bright Mexican sunlight.
As we squeezed in beside our men, we saw the exhibitionist run up onto the stage and take a stance behind the good-looking Latino entertainer. She reached over his shoulder and began to unbutton his shirt while dancing the bump & grind behind him and against him. We speculated on whether she was an old friend of his or a brand new one. Not surprisingly, he hit a wrong note on his keyboard and blushed. Ah, new friend!
Some of the tourists cheered and teased the young man. Instinctively, his fingers began to fly over the keyboard, and the flambouyant Americano gyrated faster. This was what the audience wanted. We clapped and yelled. At the end of the number the young man stood, bowed and led the American senorita back to her table, where he helped her into her chair. The impromptu show was over.
This was people-watching at its finest. We had lots of laughs, too few dances and too many cervesas. Some of the men were glad that the patriotic chick didn't belong to them. Some of the women wished we'd had the courage to just get up like her and dance. Carpe Diem!
We invite submissions from writers.
» The story or poem should not be over 2000 words and must be your own original work. All submissions must be word processed and emailed to us at our email address.
» Submissions must include your complete contact information: Name, Telephone, Email, Mailing Address.
» Please also include a short biography and if possible a small photo of yourself.
» The anonymity of all that submit a story or poem will be respected. Contact details supplied as part of your submission will not be disclosed to any third party.
|
