CALGARY - In a shocking turn of events, residents of Calgary have discovered that the nation's most famous rodeo— the Stampede— isn't the only circus in town. Behind the cowboy hats and the clashing of lassos is a darker, murkier underbelly where the pain of the past mixes with the muddy footprints of modern life. As July's Stampede draws near, the city has taken on a more somber tone. Local businesses report alarming trends of increased foot traffic in park areas where tears, not beers, flow freely. "It’s all just too much,” lamented local barista Linda Frappuccino, who has taken to serving maple lattes with a side of existential dread. “We have a whole 10 months where no one is happy and not a single cow is roped. It's pure chaos, and this July isn’t going to change that.” Indeed, with the annual celebration of cowboy culture quickly approaching, many Calgarians are finding that the vibrant memories of the Stampede are overshadowed by the drearier realities of life in the city. A recent study revealed that 87% of Calgarians experience existential crises each year, with the highest peaks occurring immediately after holiday decorations come down in January and just before the carnival-like atmosphere of the Stampede re-emerges. “Every year, I get so excited about the rodeo,” said lifelong Calgary resident Buck O’Brien, who has attended every Stampede since the dawn of time (or at least since he could hold a funnel cake). “But by March, I remember I still have to pay my taxes, fix my roof, and argue with my neighbor about their poorly trimmed hedges. Sometimes, it feels like the only thing rising higher than the chucks is my anxiety.” The city itself appears to be in on the joke, with local government officials branding this period as “the Calgary Crisis Countdown.” A city-wide initiative has resulted in the unveiling of a brand new “Tears of Calgary” monument, where citizens can donate their sadness in exchange for an official “I’ve cried at the Calgary Stampede” T-shirt. As the stampede itself flogs the reins of merriment in July, many wonder whether the broken dreams hide more darkly between the hay bales. In a bid to harness all this emotional turmoil into a productive enterprise, the Calgary Stampede Foundation has announced the introduction of a new competition titled "Tears on the Track." In this event, contestants will race down a muddy track while trying to balance various burdens of adult life—marriage, bills, and relentless Zoom meetings—while weeping in a manner that best resembles the graceful movement of traditional bull riding. Organizers hope that laughter will heal the city’s woes: “If you’re not crying over your horse, you should be crying about something,” remarked a spokesperson wearing a bedazzled saddle. Calgary’s mayor has weighed in, declaring, “The Stampede is about celebrating the great cowboy spirit! But let’s not forget, true pioneers must bear their emotional scars with pride.” He then promptly tripped over a saddle and Twitter-threaded his feelings of inadequacy, where he proposed making "cowpoke therapy" a new branch of city-funded mental health services. As summer rolls closer, the city gears up for what promises to be an emotionally charged event. Calgary residents are prepared; they have their hats, their spurs, and of course, their tears. For while the horses may be herded and the cattle wrangled, it’s the unyielding burden of those 10 months without the Stampede that may never truly be tamed.