notanotherphony.

life becoming more complicated daily as I sit in a shitty town filled with dull people leading dull lives and passing on this dullness to their kids and so on and so on.  but where does it lead?  where are the dreamers?  where are they?  factory workers and open garages filled with smoke and shitty beers are prevalent.  much more prevalent than wine and great discussions about life and loss.  loss happens and people mourn for a few days and then get back to the “grind” as they so gleefully call it.  knowing their lives are shit does nothing to change the behaviours of these dull, sad, and very lost individuals and groups of individuals.  while many in the world are surfing in oceans and hiking up and down beautiful mountains filled with beautiful people conversing about wonderful and beautiful things the sad peasants in this shitty town are drinking Coors Light while conversing about taxes and trucks.  the world falling apart amidst the greed of old rich white men who got their money from their old rich white Dad.  the rich staying rich and the poor staying poor.  a system rigged but a system severely broken.
I do what I can to survive the boredom of this town.  running.  cycling.  jerking off.  drinking.  reading.  then sleeping.  the routine returns the next day.  the next week.  the next month.  the next year.  another year off of my life.  another year closer to death.  sad and lonely.  is my Mom sad and lonely too?
do you ever really recover from traumatic events?  I mean really recover.  you cry.  you mourn.  you seek help.  you speak with psychiatrists and psychologists.  you meditate.  you do yoga.  you seek help from friends.  sometimes family members even try to help but most often not.  you then seek solace in booze and girls.  drinking and fucking as much as you can.  this leads to blackouts and fights and arrests.  more “help” on the way.  alcohol centres and aa meetings trying to “cure” the pain.  working temporarily but then back to the same routines.  booze.  girls.  arrests.  temporary guilt.  temporary girls.  temporary hope but then, as always, back to the routine.  the “cure” for the pain never seeming to work.  the booze and girls eventually lead to booze, girls, and DRUGS.  first marijuana then mushrooms then cocaine then acid then ecstasy and then BOOM.  crash.  crash.  crash.  wake up in someone else’s house not knowing how or why you are there and then walk home in SHAME wondering just what happened to your life.
you walk in the front door and go upstairs.  you pop pills.  you drink water.  you turn on the tv and jerk off.  temporary excitement.  temporary elation.  everything temporary including MY DAD.  MY NANA.  ALMOST MY MOM.
three months of pure terror at the age of ten and I sit here wondering if I have ever fully recovered?  has my Mom?  has my brother?
masks.  facades.  love.  lack of love.  lack of life.  wrinkles.  lack of hair.  lack of family.  lack of money.  everything lacking in an otherwise AMAZING life.
I…does…do people ever fully recover from childhood trauma???

the world is a phony place.  I am learning this lesson at the age of fifty.  but I am having to teach this lesson to my beautiful eleven year old daughter who busts her ass in many activities and treats both her peers and adults with the utmost of respect but continues to get let down by the politics of life and the notion of who you know.
the latest example of this sickening side of society happened last week as Rylee tried out for a developmental basketball program in Orillia.  yes Orillia.  the shithole of Ontario but now somehow the hub of basketball training.
two months prior to this tryout her old loud-mouthed egotistical basketball coach with little knowledge of the game but much knowledge of the game of “who you know and who you blow” decided to tell his players that the only girls who would make this team would be Lauren and Morgan.  a stupid thing to tell a group of young girls who only want to get better and grow in a game they love but, instead, get shot down by an old washed up has been who somehow puts fear into adults and turns them all into little tiny babies with zero opinions and zero souls.  spineless maggots allowing their children to get shot down by a “nothingman”.
anyway, so this coach told the girls who would make it and at that time I figured the fix might be on but Rylee wanted to still go to the tryouts and I wasn’t going to discourage her the way many parents do with their own.  life is a long journey not a short one filled with fixed mindsets and lowest common denominator behaviour where parents tell their kids to “just get a job” instead of going for their dreams.
so we make the long trek up to Orillia for the tryout and upon arriving we see that Coach Greg Firth from the U 11 Hawks Basketball team is there with his daughter and her friend whose mother just happens to be the treasurer of the Hawks basketball team.  as soon as I saw Coach Firth my earlier fears of the whole thing being fixed were beginning to take shape.  I gave him a fake smile and a fake “hi” and he gave me his best fake smile back.  a world filled with fucking fakes getting ahead while real people with real opinions are left behind to beg the fakes for jobs.
so the tryouts begin and the so called “Elite coaches” deliver a fake filled half assed speech that encourages work ethic and team spirit and encourages all the kids to do their best.  I wanted to believe in the speech but I saw Firth in his special orange jersey out on the court as one of the helpers.  then I saw other coaches of other teams with their kids out there too.  coaches upon coaches with both players from their teams there as well as their own biological kids on the court quickly telling me that I was right in my fears and that this whole thing was going to be one big fucking sham!!!
as the tryout wore on I saw Rylee busting her ass and performing the drills with pure conviction and drive and even being singled out by one of the coaches as someone who is giving her all.  “Everyone watch number 22.  that’s how you do it.”  he told the other girls.  this brought a smile to Rylee’s face as she has been busting her ass for two years getting real ELITE COACHING and NOT fake elite coaching from volunteers who are actually janitors and factory workers.
anyway, the first tryout ended and Rylee thanked the coach.  the only one to do so which made us, as parents, very proud.  we drove home and Rylee was so excited telling us how well she did and how much fun it was.  she asked numerous times if we thought she was going to make it and we told her that based on the criteria of this tryout being all about skill, hard work, attitude, and teamwork then there is a good chance.
in being as unbiased as possible we saw that girls from her own Hawks team were not trying and not working hard as well as many others and, therefore, we truly thought that this would be a huge accomplishment for Rylee and something that she would be sooooo proud of and deserving of.
the second tryout came and we all drove two hours back up to Orillia.  this time the tryout was going to be based on fitness testing but also some more skill testing.  they put all of the girls into six specific groups.  Rylee being in group five.  at the time this didn’t seem fishy at all but by the end of the tryout when they scrimmaged it sure did.
Rylee, onca again, busted her ass and delivered on all the skill testing drills and delivered with conviction and passion.  Rylee’s confidence was through the roof as she performed flawlessly.  while other’s at the tryout were dropping balls and messing around with their peers, Rylee was super focused once again.  a big smile came to my face as I was super proud of how far she had come in only two years despite extremely poor belligerent uninspiring coaching from her own team.  she needed to get the elite training from Athlete Institute but she wanted it just as much as she needed it and it surely showed.  two years ago Rylee didn’t know how to dribble a ball but now she was showing everyone (I thought) how skilled she was at putting the ball between her legs and behind her back while looking forward and not looking at the ball.  this was different from many of the other kids who dribbled with their heads down and never got corrected by the so called Elite coaches.
there was fifteen minutes left in what we thought was going to be a major victory fro Rylee when the coach blew his whistle and brought everyone to center court.  he told them that groups one and two would scrimmage on court one while groups three and four would scrimmage on court two.  he then said with a lack of inspiration that groups five and six would scrimmage on court three.
everyone ran to their allotted courts and the coach blew the whistle to begin the games.  as the games wore on I noticed that none of the coaches were even remotely looking at the players on court three.  groups five and six were left all alone while the fake elite coaches watched the two other courts filled with the teams that were already picked well before the tryouts even began.  picked by phone calls from Coach Verner and Coach Firth.  as well as picked by phone calls from the other coaches who had their girls from their teams at the tryouts.  it was a big game of “who you know” which is no different from the adult game of “who you know.” 
we left the gym after Rylee, once again, said “thanks” but not before Rylee continued shooting by herself and dribbling up and down the court.  she, like we, were positive of her accomplishment as we eventually left the gym and the school.  we drove home and we were all excited for how well Rylee performed, including herself.  we had never seen Rylee beem with such confidence.  I still thought everything seemed quite fishy with Firth being on the court helping and with his daughter there as well as her friend.  I was still suspicious of Verner telling his team that only Morgan and Lauren would make it and, sure enough, they were the only ones there, along with Ellie who is usually Morgan’s ride.  I have seen this game play out many times before.  anyway, I kept that to myself.
for the next three days Rylee asked us if we heard anything and our answer was always, “not yet but you have nothing to worry about because based on their criteria you will make it for sure.”  while we said this I was secretly checking Nicole’s computer for the email from the coach.  On the fourth day after the fake tryouts the results started pouring in.  Lauren made it…of course (she worked hard and desereved it), Morgan made it…of course (she fucked around and didn’t deserve it based on the criteria), Ellie made it (she fucked around too but I wonder if she made it because Verner told the elite coaches that Morgan needs lifts and Ellie’s parents will give them).  we then found out that Firth’s daughter made it of course, as well as Alana, the daughter’s friend whose mom is the treasurer of the Hawks basketball association.  we waited with anticipation but did not receive an email.  five hours had passed since the other girl’s had found out.  Nicole asked me if she should email the coach as her stomach was becoming sick and I told her to wait for a bit.  the waiting period lasted for hours and finally Nicole said she couldn’t take it and decided to email the coach of the tryouts.  five minutes later she got an email back stating that Rylee didn’t make it and it was a hard decision and she should be proud of herself blah blah blah.  Nicole was both shocked and sad.   “I can’t tell her.  she didn’t make it.  I don’t have the heart to tell her.”  “THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!!!”  I said back with extreme rage bursting through my veins.  This had happened to me in the past and I knew the feeling of rejection very well.  Rejection from a team that was already fixed in stone was even more infuriating.
anyway, I told Rylee and she immediately bawled.  we both hugged her and told her that it was a fix and that she deserved a spot on the team.  It was a hard lesson to learn at such a young age but she had already had many of these tough lessons already.  the tears soon stopped and we all walked down to BVR for some lunch and then some ice cream.  we were all still devastated but we ALL knew that is was a total fix and that the whole program and the people involved in the program should be disgusted with themselves.  I know that they punished Rylee for Nicole and I speaking out about the coaching with the Hawks and how unacceptable it all is.  instead of listening to our concerns they, out of complacency, blamed us for being problem parents.  typical response from typical dull people in typical dull towns.  at that point we decided we had had enough with this shitty organization and decided to play somewhere else.  Rylee, still angry, had decided that she would continue training with an elite coach in Clinton (much better coaching than the volunteers at this half assed shitty program) and that she would strive to be the absolute best player she could possibly be.  “I want to play the Hawks next year and kick their butt!!!”  we gave her a huge hug and told her that we loved her soooo much and that we were so proud of her.  we LOVE her fierce determination.
I, myself, am so sickened by the whole endeavour.  to have fake coaches delivering fake speeches about attitude and trying and team work but then rewarding players who didn’t possess these traits is appalling and teaches kids the wrong lessons.  plus the fact that the whole thing was fixed and was based on coaches recommendations sickened me even more.  to see my daughter busting her ass for two days for what she thought was a chance at playing on some so-called elite team with elite training but then realizing it was all a fucking set up by fat assed coaches with big smiles and big guts has sent me into a full on rage and my outlook on life filled with it’s secrets and lies is at an all time low as it is all based on who you know and who you blow.
SICK FUCKERS!!!

  

It was Tuesday April something and Taylor had her Ontario tryouts for basketball in Orillia.  Jack Tait and Sarah picked up Taylor early from school and made the long drive up to Orillia.  Taylor was super excited for the second tryout and the chance to be on an elite basketball team.  They drove two long hours and arrived at the shitty school in a shitty area of a shitty town called Orillia where shit people think they are relevant people but they are merely shit but relevant in their own shitty town.
  Anyway, Jack Tait and the family arrived early as usual as Taylor was super dedicated in a sport that was filled with half dedicated kids.  Jack Tait and the family spoke with some guy who said he was the Athletic Director of the shitty school.  he was a nice guy.  but a nice guy who was happy with his job in a shitty town and not driven to make the world a better place.  Jack Tait knew many guys like this.  He was once the star athlete in his high school but when it came time to the awards he lost out on the Athlete of the Year Award to a bench warmer for the basketball team while Jack was the star on three different teams but fucked off in school and rarely followed the rules.  politics always in play in a world filled with fucking phoniness and nepotism.
  Anyway, after about a half an hour many other kids arrived.  Most of them bratty as fuck.  typical bratty kids with typical bratty parents.  a horror show of fucking losers.  But losers moving ahead because of who they know and who they blow.  sickening and sad.  dull and sad.  Taylor avoided the brats and walked into the gym early to shoot and practice her dribbling.  a girl driven to be the best but never looked at by the so called expert coaches who look at the same typical girls who play the same typical way.
The coaches finally arrive and give a seemingly heartfelt speech about the tryouts and how they are so proud to be a part of this program.  they speak about how the most important thing for these tryouts is effort and attitude.  they tell the kids that everyone should be proud of themselves for coming out and that it will be hard to choose the team but the journey doesn’t stop here and other kinds of utter bullshit that almost made Jack Tait barf.
The practice begins and Jack Tait focuses on Taylor and sees how great she is doing at dribbling and shooting and all the skills that these maggots/coaches said they were looking at in determining who would make the team.  As Jack was watching Taylor succeed he looked over and saw John Forth, a coach for Orange Vegas Hawks, standing there in his dumb orange shirt running some drills.  he instantly knew the set-up was on.  his daughter was trying out and she would make the team and they would throw her friend on the team too.  politics even in shitty Orillia as it is in the shitty world.  impossible to escape.  then Jack Tait saw another coach speaking with her five kids and knew that they would make the team too.  He also remembered Taylor’s Hawks coach tell everyone that only Laura and Michelle would make the team and so he knew that they would make it too.  Michelle would need a lift and so her best friend, Elaine, would also make the team.  As Jack Tait was thinking all of this he saw Taylor busting her ass and showing off her amazing skills.  two years ago she couldn’t dribble a ball but now dribbling and shooting with the best of them at this “so-called” elite camp.  The tryout was almost over when the phony coach delivered a fake fucking phony speech about it being hard to pick the team and everyone worked their tails off and this is not the end of the journey and all kinds of other bullshit that, once again, made Jack Tait almost puke.  This MAGGOT finally finished his fake phony speech and Jack Tait could breathe again.
The tryout ended and Taylor thanked the phony coach.  she then took a few more shots that no one noticed as the coaches were focusing on the girls who they had already decided would make the team.  she got herself ready and the family left the shitty school in the shitty town.  they picked up some shitty take-out for the shitty drive home and then had to play the waiting game.
Day one came and went without an email from the maggot.
Day two came and went without an email from the maggot.
Day three came and action finally started happening.  Taylor’s friend who fucked around all tryout MADE the team.  Taylor then found out that another girl from her team in Orange Vegas made the team too.  she also fucked around all tryout and Taylor then realized that this maggoty coach who preached effort and focus was all talk (typical) and already had the team set.
Sarah and Jack were very tense and the “set-up” seemed apparent.  Laura, Michelle, Elaine, and John Forth’s daughter and friend all had made the team.  Taylor had not heard anything.  wait.  wait.  wait.  Sarah and Jack couldn’t wait any longer and so Sarah emailed the phony maggot coach and he emailed right back explaining that he had tried numerous times to email (BULLSHIT) but it wasn’t going through.  the email also said that Taylor DID NOT make the team and it was a tough decision but that Taylor needs to work on BLAH BLAH BLAH.  ALL A PILE OF FUCKING BULLSHIT COMING OUT OF A FUCKING TYPICAL SMALL TOWN FUCKING BULLSHIT MOUTH.  A BULLSHIT MOUTH THAT HAS SUCKED THE SMALL COCKS OF SMALL TOWN COACHES WITH DAUGHTERS AND SUCKED THE COCKS OF OLD LOUD MOUTH MANIAC COACHES THAT PUT GIRLS DOWN AND DOES NOTHING TO GROW THEIR CONFIDENCE BUT HAVE LOSER COMPLACENT PARENTS FOOLED BUT NOT JACK TAIT AND SARAH.
The fix was real and the fix was obvious.  the sad part being that the fix hurts the heart of a poor little girl who does nothing but bust her ass and treat everyone with respect.
a sickening lesson to learn at such a young age.
Jack Tait looked at his young daughter crying and was first fileld with compassion but the compassion quickly turned to RAGE.
he grabbed his Louisville Slugger and rode his blue tricycle straight over to John Forth’s house.  he knocked on the front door and the fat fucker named John answered.
“Oh yeah big guy how are you doing?”  fake John said with a fake smile.
“FUCK YOU YOU PHONY MAGGOT!!!!”  Jack said back and then pounded John into oblivion.  blood splattering everywhere.
Then Jack jumped on his blue tricycle and rode over to Taylor’s Orange Vegas Hawks coach house.  Jack knocked on the door and the old fucker who should be in jail for abuse answered.
“Hey Jack…what’s up?”  he said with his typical big smile.
“FUCK YOU YOU PHONY MAGGOT!!!”  Jack answered back.  he then bashed the old man over the head with his Louisville Slugger.  Blood spalttering everywhere.
Jack Tait then hopped on his blue tricycle and rode over to the assistant coaches house who was the ultimate puppet along with his wife.  they befriended everyone and never spoke ill of anyone or anything.  the worst kind of human being.  zero backbone and zero opinion.  robots.  sheep.  cement in a big house with many kids.  THE PERFECT FAMILY.  BUT THE PHONIEST FAMILY.
Jack Tait knocked on the door and Will answered with his fake wife right beside him.
“Hey Jack…wh…”
Jack Tait didn’t let the phony finish before he smashed his face in with the Louisville Slugger.  He let his screaming wife go but not before he called her a sick human being with nothing to offer the world.
Jack Tait then jumped on his tricycle and rode it all the way to Orillia.  He somehow someway found the coach of the Elite Basketball team and asked him if he wanted to go for a coffee.  The maggot said “YES”.
they grabbed their coffees and sat down.
“How the fuck did you leave my daughter off the team but you allowed Michelle, Elaine, and Coach Forth’s kids to make it?  Such utter bullshit.  you spoke about working hard and playing hard with good attitudes but it seems to me that you were already swayed by Coach Forth and the old maniac Coach for Orange Vegas.  how dare you talk bullshit when it was all fixed you FUCKING FAGGOTY ASSED MAGGOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????  I WILL FUCKING SMASH YOUR FACE IN UNTIL YOU TELL ME THE TRUTH!!!!”
and with that Jack began to batter the phony coach’s face in.  he refused to speak so Jack bashed more.  blood spewing out from his nose and eyes. 
“YOU WANT MORE YOU FUCKING MAGGOT???”
this fucking phony wouldn’t speak.  Jack kept bashing.  it went on for over an hour and then the phony coach caved.
“I will tell you what happened.  I am embarrassed but I have realized that you caught on.  So Old Man abusive coach told us to pick Laura and Michelle.  But then Michelle needed a lift so we had to pick her friend Elaine even though they were both messing around the whole time.  Then Coach Forth was helping us and kissing ass so we had to pick his fat daughter and her friend.  they are average players and Coach Forth is an average man but he helped us so we had to give him a favour back.  so that is what happened.”
“But what about my daughter you fucking maggot???  she busted her ass for two days and did all the drills amazingly well.  WHAT THE FUCK???”
“I can’t tell you.”
with that answer Jack Tait pounded the loser coach in the face once more.
“okay.  okay.  so…Coach Forth told me that you and your wife have caused a lot of problems with the useless organization known as HAWKS.  he said that you complained about the first coach and then the maniac coach and he said that you are too intense for such a shitty association.”
“But why take it out on my beautiful daughter???”
“Politics Jack.  everything is politics.”
and with that stupid answer Jack Tait took his Louisville Slugger and unleashed one more massive swing at the maggoty coaches head.  blood and more blood exiting his small brain.
“HEEEEEEEEEELP…DON’T DO IT!!!  HEEEEEEEEEEEEELP”
Jack Tait walked away.  he jumped on his blue tricycle and rode home.
He arrived at home and walked straight up to Taylor’s room and jumped in her bed and gave her a HUGE hug.
“I AM SOOOOOO PROUD OF YOU.  YOU WORKED YOUR ASS OFF AND YOU SHOULD BE ON THIS TEAM BUT THE COACHES HAVE ALWAYS HAD THE TEAM SET.  YOU HAD NO CHANCE.  LIES TAYLOR.  ALL FUCKING LIES!!!”
Jack Tait gave his beautiful daughter a big kiss and they both fell asleep.
 

Jack Tait woke up early and decided to roam the streets of Orange Vegas.  he saw many trucks.  many dogs.  he saw fat guts and many Crocs.  he also saw dog shit and stained lawns from dog piss.  dogs running the asylum.  untrained dogs running the asylum just like untrained kids running the asylum.  laziness being passed down from generation to generation.  just like fake fulfilled loves being passed down from generation to generation.  Jack Tait didn’t give a flying fuck what people said about him behind his back as he saw a town filled with losers and dummies.  bigger losers and bigger dummies than the losers and dummies from other small towns. 
Jack Tait rode his blue tricycle through rundown streets and long barren roads.  he saw churches and Tim Horton’s.  he saw Salvation Army stores as well as many Dollar Stores.  he didn’t see bookstores.  nor did he see quality bars nor quality restaurants.  he saw a town covered and smothered in mediocrity the way many towns are covered and smothered in mediocrity.  mediocre minds leading the blind sheep. 
Jack Tait worked up a sweat as he heard loud mufflers and loud dogs.  he moved left and then he moved right.  some people swing right but Jack Tait knows nothing about internet dating apps and internet dating games.  he was once a fucking machine but now prefers wine and books.  sometimes good music too.
As Jack Tait rode through the town the dogs began to chase him.  it started with one small dog.  then another small dog.  then a fat lady with a small dog began to chase Jack too.  then a fat dog.  within twenty-five minutes Jack Tait had twenty-four dogs chasing him and one pig.  she was a fat woman.  the slang for a fat woman is a PIG.  Jack Tait was not one for political correctness.  a fag was a fag.  and Indian was an Indian.  a black man was a black man.  a Chinese man was a Chinese man.  and a pig was, is, and always will be a PIG.  Jack Tait knows because he has fucked many over the years.
Jack Tait rode quickly through the dull town as the twenty-four dogs and one pig continued to chase him.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!!  SOMEONE HELP!!!!!!!  I AM BEING ATTACKED BY DOGS AND PIGS AND I AM NOT SURE WHY.  WHY DO ALL THESE BAD THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?  WHAT HAVE I DONE THAT OTHER’S HAVEN’T?  I HAVE FUCKED.  I HAVE JERKED OFF.  I HAVE FOUGHT.  I HAVE SHIT.  I HAVE PUKED.  I HAVE EVEN BEEN TO CHURCH WHILE HUNGOVER AND NAKED!!!  HEEEEEEEEELP!!!”
  Jack Tait continued to scream but nobody listened.  they never do.  people too busy in their own lives to give a flying fuck about other lives.  lowest common denominator with their shitty beers and shitty trucks outside of their shitty garages talking shit with each other before heading off to their shitty jobs.  Jack Tait just wanted to make it home in time to see Taylor off to school.  too many things to do in a day.  in a lifetime and not accomplishing any.  Jack Tait continued and was almost home when he heard the siren of a police car.  he quickly turned around and saw Constable Zeebots.  Zeebots is usually hiding in the front of stores trying to catch drivers on their cellphones and giving them useless tickets but this time he had something else in mind.  he chased Jack Tait up hills and down hills and Jack refused to pull over.  Zeebots pulled his car up beside Jack’s tricycle and yelled at him.
“Pull over.  Pull over.  I won’t harm you.  I just want to talk.”
Jack new better than to trust an old white haired cop who hides in the front of stores and attempts to issue tickets to pay for his bloated salary.
“FUCK OFF ZEEBOTS!!!  SHOOT ME IF YOU WANT BUT I AIN”T PULLING OVER!!!”
“Pull over to the side of the road or else I will have to call back up.”
“FUCK YOU AND YOUR BACK UP ZEEBOTS.  GO BLOW YOURSELF AND YOUR USELESS FUCKING JOB.  YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING MAGGOT WHO IS NOT RESPECTED BY ANYONE BUT THAT IS THE ONLY REASON YOU WANTED TO BE A COP!!!”
“PULL OVER OR I WILL SHOOT YOU!!!”
“FUCK YOU ZEEBOTS!!!”
BOOOOOOOOOM.  BOOOOOOOOOOOOM.  BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
Zeebots pulled out his gun and shot poor Jack Tait.  Jack Tait fell to the ground.  naked and alone once again.  Zeebots ran towards Jack but then saw a squirrel being chased by a coyote and so he jumped in his car and drove away.
Jack Tait lay lying in blood.  writhing in pain.
‘HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!  HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!  SOMEONE HELP ME!!!”
Jack Tait continued to scream but he was all alone on a remote and barren road just outside the bright lights of Orange Vegas.
as he lay there dying he could hear the faint sounds of loud mufflers and dogs barking in the distance.
“politics is everywhere.  it is in everything.  jobs.  school.  sports.  friends.  enemies.  cops.  robbers.  it is everywhere.  I HATE FUCKING POLITICS!!!”  

had a great sleep.  sleeping pills worked.  no booze.  too much booze the night before.  had two coffees and put on The Smiths.  finding good music as I hit my fifties.  thirties and forties a complete blur.  fifties only partial blur.  a weekend with great friends and now back to the grind although I never have a grind.  choices.  we all have choices.  some choose to work for “the man” and grind it out day by dreary day.  week by dreary week.  and other’s choose to LIVE a life.  a life filled with excitement and dreams and hope coupled with depression and anxiety.  pick your poison.
anyway, I have two cups of coffee and get ready to walk Taylor to school with Sarah.  we take our normal route down Pheasant and the yellow school bus comes by.  Lauren and her friend frantically wave to Taylor and she waves back with a smile.  “They always are so excited when they wave to me,” says Taylor.
“Oh I know,” I said back.
we all continue to walk and talk and walk and talk.  we eventually make it to Taylor’s school and we say goodbye to her and tell her that we love her.  she walks away by herself and enters the school.  I always hate saying goodbye to Taylor.  she’s such a great kid. 
Sarah and I walk home.  we take the same route home as we took coming to the school.  we say “HI” to the crossing guard and walk back up Pheasant.  we talk about Taylor’s basketball and how poorly run The Hawks are.  we talk about how complacent people in Orange Vegas are.  we say that it is typical of the suburbs.  most people thinking they are living life but really they are all puppets and sheep following dumb rules and drinking shitty beer in their shitty garages.  we also talk about the Guelph Gryphons basketball association and how professional they are filled with inspiring coaches and inspiring management.  complacency is the sickest disease one could ever get.
we get home and I pack my shoes into a bag and leave the house.  I head to Kitchener to work with a men’s store called Channers.  Good people.  Good store.  Good town. 
I arrive right on time for once and quickly work my appt.  I then bring some catalogues to a few other stores and then go for lunch at a Thai place in the mall.  hot waitress.  hot waitresses everywhere which is torturous when you’re married.  life always challenging me.  why?  why me?  Do other people go through the same torture as me?  the game of life.  a fascinating game when you play.  a dull and depressing game when you don’t.  most people in these small towns are dull and depressed.  the blind leading the blind but they just don’t know it.  sad really.
anyway, I ate my food and left the restaurant.  spoke briefly with the hot waitress but the annoying but friendly owner got in the way.  probably a good thing.  cheap thrills are cheap.  torturous and cheap.
I jumped in my car and headed for home.  wanted to go for a nice long bike ride.  summer weather finally arriving even though it is only Spring.  getting sick of the long Winters and lack of Spring and Summer.  so many places that I would rather live but need to convince Sarah.
I arrived at home with two coffees in hand.  one for me and one for Sarah.  we discussed, once again, how great the association of Guelph Gryphons Basketball is and how professional and caring they are.  once again, the opposite of Hawks basketball with it’s bad management and lowest common denominator thinking.  average people will always bring about average product and you have to avoid these type of soul suckers at all costs or you could get caught up in their web of DULLNESS.  we know better and we avoid at all costs.  when I was younger I wasn’t as good at picking them out but now I have a keen eye.
we drank our coffees and picked up Taylor from school.  I went to the gym and ran on the treadmill and then spoke with the receptionist (older one…even though she is younger than me) about the dance culture for young girls and how disgusting it is.  little girls parading around in tiny provocative outfits while having make-up plastered on their faces.  such a stupid activity.  the dancing is great and can be very challenging but why the slutty outfits and make-up?  dumb dance parents not realizing how detrimental the dance culture is.  naïve.  naïve people everywhere.  puppets.  sheep.  most people are puppets and sheep.  sad.  sick.  dull.  anyway, we finished our conversation and then I had a quick steam before heading home. 
we ate dinner and then went for a walk downtown.  downtown Orange Vegas.  NOT TORONTO.  we left the house and began our walk.  we immediately ran into a fat older lady (probably younger than me) with a brown dog who kept jumping on us.
“Oh he’s fine.  he won’t bite.” she said.
this is what the peasants always say.  but in reality they are all just lazy dog owners who get dogs because they are bored and depressed.  such sad fuckers.
we continued our walk and saw the typical garage drinkers drinking shitty beer and having shitty conversations about nothing but their trucks and their shitty work.  DULL.
we walked down Zina and discussed the various beautiful houses that are too expensive.  we saw a dull family of four walking towards us.  typical dull family with two overweight parents and two bratty boys not to mention a dog that doesn’t listen.  we walked across the street and continued our trek downtown.  we stopped for another coffee for me and then we made our way to the ice cream shop.  I took a seat outside as the store was too hot.  they always are.  I sat outside with Taylor as Sarah ordered the ice cream.  we sat and sat and sat.  we wondered what was taking so long so we looked inside and saw a very “slow” boy behind the counter.  bad service everywhere in such small depressing towns.  twenty minutes later Sarah arrived with the ice cream and we began to walk home.
Taylor finished her’s first and then tossed her wrapper on the ground.  we had a big argument over that as we wondered why she would do that. 
“It’s not like you to do that Taylor.”
“You guy’s litter.”
“No we don’t.”
“You’re telling me that you’ve never littered.”
“I am sure we have but we are just trying to teach you that it is wrong.  Just admit that you made a mistake.”
Taylor was silent as we continued to walk.  Not wanting to admit a mistake that wasn’t even a mistake.  just a life lesson.
anyway, we kept walking home and kept discussing the homes on Zina. 
we arrived back on our street and we saw the same fat dull dog walker from before.  we avoided her.  we always avoid people as most of them are dull.  we saw and heard a lady locking her car door about twenty times. 
“Lady, your door is locked!!!” I screamed at her.  but she looked at me and closed her house door.  I am sure she checks and double checks that lock at night too.  Paranoid and dull people everywhere.  sad and pathetic lives most people live.
we eventually made it home and sat on our couches.
“I’m sorry for littering.” Taylor said.
“It’s alright Taylor.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”