notanotherphony.

Jack Tait woke up one day and he was sixty-five years old.  no job.  no family.  no money.  no wife.  he was once a promising young soccer player who won many awards and was cheered on by many people.  that was fifty years ago.  back to a time when skill and hard work paid off.  back to a time when love meant love and hate meant hate.  when people had to look each other in the eye to tell them that they loved them or wanted to fuck them.  now the world is filled with geeks on their phones with zero human connection and mega small boners.  award shows filled with pansy assed second rate actors and even worse human beings.  followers and peasants.  peasants following other peasants.
Jack Tait decided to leave his rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and hopped on his blue tricycle.  he rode to his old grade school.  he passed phony billboards with ugly plastic women pretending to smile or have an orgasm.  he passed phony banks and phony take out restaurants.  he also passed phony cop stations and phony psychiatrist offices.  he then rode passed dull stores filled with dull people and even duller clothes.  dull shoes.  dull people.  a world that was once filled with real artists and real madmen being taken over by clean shaven robots and dumber than fuck rednecks that drink Coors Light and still watch the Toronto Maple Leafs.  lowest common denominator maggots that will grow old and die and will not have made an impression on anyone including their own family.  sad dull lives being passed down to other sad dull lives.  a vicious cycle filled with McDonald’s, crappy “family” based shows and dull dance contests with ten year old girls wearing skimpy outfits and plastered on ugly make up.  shitty parents passing on their shitty opinions on life to their kids who only want to fit in with the other lousy kids who think they are pretty and exciting but, instead, are ugly and dull.  a world filled with less than dull people all marching to the same dull tune and eating the same dull food.
Jack Tait finally arrived at his old school.  a school filled with many great memories and many great teachers.  a school that was once filled with real people now filled with carbon cutouts of the latest and dullest pop stars.  wearing the same dull outfits with the same non opinions of life.  entitled kids learning this sickening behaviour from their thoughtless and soulless parents who do nothing but drive them around to various talentless dance competitions and talentless beauty pageants.  sickening parents ruining their kids lives before the age of eleven.
“WHAT A SAD AND PATHETIC GROUP OF KIDS,” yelled Jack Tait at all the dull ugly kids on the playground.
“YOUR PARENTS SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF THEMSELVES!!!”  continued Jack Tait.
“DON’T WORRY KIDS…YOU WILL ALL GROW UP TO GET USED AND ABUSED BY GUYS.  BY GIRLS.  BY BANKS.  BY THE CHURCH.  BY AUTHORITY.  BY YOURSELF.  DO ME A HUGE FAVOUR AND WHEN YOU GET HOME TELL YOUR PARENTS THAT THEY ARE FUCKING UP YOUR LIFE WITH PASSIONLESS DO GOODER FOLLOWER TYPE BEHAVIOUR!!!
Jack Tait then walked slowly and nakedly back to his blue tricycle.  he had a big smile on his face and was glad he tried to help the kids.  he knew long ago that he couldn’t get through to adults because they were so dumb.  so dull.  filled with re-hashed opinions and re-hashed fear.  walking blindly through life with zero emotion and zero heart.  zero soul.  zero guts.  useless irrelevant peasants that think the Oscars are important and “OH WOW LEO FINALLY WON AN OSCAR!!!”
“WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT THE OSCARS.  WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT THE GRAMMY’S.  WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT BORING STAR WARS AND BORING FAKE HALF TIME SHOWS”.
Jack Tait jumped back on his tricycle and slowly rode home.  he thought of his dead Dad.  his elderly Mom.  he thought of his long lost daughter and long lost wife.  he wished he could have saved his daughter long ago from vicious girl bullies who learned this vicious sickening behaviour from their parents but he couldn’t.  he was outnumbered in this world.  the school system allowing such revolting behaviour.  “pink” bully days just another lie in a lifetime filled with lies and hypocrisy.  a vicious world filled with vicious people doing vicious things.  a world that is both beautiful and sad.  hopeful and bad.  smiling faces with empty eyes and empty hearts.
Jack Tait arrived back at his remote farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and looked up to the sky.  he saw an image of Adolf Hitler and then an image of Mother Theresa.  he also saw George Bush as well as Hillary Clinton.  All basically the same person with the same soul.
“FUCK EVERYONE IN THIS WORLD AND FUCK OVER ANYONE THAT EVEN REMOTELY GETS IN YOUR WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Jack Tait finally figured out life.  too late.  time to masturbate.

Jack Tait woke up after a few months of depression.  a few months of self reflection.  a few months of utter debaucherous behaviour which included forty pounders of Jack and forty pounders of Gin.  he even drank wine.  anything he could get down he got down.  he also masturbated eight hundred times.  his penis was chafed and bloody but it was his only excitement in life.  his only success in life.  while Jack Tait’s former friends were either physically dead or emotionally dead and filled up with Viagra and lies.  phoniness and cries.  Jack Tait pounded himself.  his penis was bigger than it had ever been and it was always big.  even back in high school when it was afraid to come out.
Jack Tait walked to his throne in the bathroom and emptied four months of runny shit into the yellow and brown toilet.  he then flushed and washed his hands.
Jack Tait tried to down some water but gave up after five minutes and searched for beer.  searched for booze.  EMPTY.
Jack Tait then left his run down farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and hopped on his blue tricycle.  he rode down the long driveway filled with dirt and stones and started his journey to the beer store.  the sky was dark and the wind was brisk.  a few sprinkles of rain soon turned into heavy rains but nothing was going to stop Jack Tait.  when Jack Tait had a goal he succeeded.  when Jack Tait did not have a goal he floundered.  then masturbated.  Jack Tait is a complicated man.  he always was.  he always will be.  there is a misconception that when people get older that they mature and become “normal.”  But what exactly is “normal?”  If a man is a psychotic maniac when he is young then nine times out of ten that same man will be a psychotic maniac when he is old and wrinkled.  psychotherapy doing little to change the man.  the only change being a little lighter in the pocket book and a little more confused.  the psychotherapist usually being more fucked up than the man he is trying to morph into a respectable man.  FUCKING RULES AND FUCKING PHONY MAGGOTS RUNNING RAMPANT IN THIS FUCKING BORING WORLD!!!
Jack Tait jumped off of his blue tricycle and walked gingerly into the beer store.  his one lonely ball hanging low and looking for a friend.
Jack Tait walked into the beer store and went straight to the micro beer section.  he had no time for shitty beers like Molson’s or Labatt’s.  Even fucking Corona was piss in a bottle.  the richest breweries offering the worst product.  “Is this a pattern?”  wondered Jack.
Jack Tait found his favourite beers and, of course, they were filled with dust while Molson Canadian and Labatt’s Blue are sold out.  FUCKING POOR TASTED PEASANTS!!!
Jack Tait filled his hockey bag with a hundred beers and jumped back onto his tricycle.  he is a super hero.  a real super hero in a world filled with fake plastic super hero’s like superman and batman.  fake actors portraying fake hero’s.
Jack Tait had a goal of filling his hockey bag with one hundred quality micro beers and riding nakedly back to his rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and nothing was going to stop him.  he would go out swinging if anyone tried to stop him.  he refused to be a peasant.  he refused to be a maggot.  “yes” people succeeding in life but offering up nothing while “real” people with “real” talent get labelled as drunks and misfits.  Jack Tait would never allow a maggot to ruin his life.
Jack Tait rode and rode.  he then rode some more.  helicopters flying overhead.  planes flying overhead.  birds too.  life whizzing by.  day by dreary day.
Jack Tait arrived back at his farmhouse and rode up the long and lonely driveway.  lights in his farmhouse turned off as usual.  coyotes howling off in the distance.  squirrels scampering.
Jack Tait jumped off of his tricycle and walked into his run down farmhouse.  he turned on the lights and saw his Mom.  his deceased Dad.  his brother.  his long lost wife.  his long lost daughter.  the clock was ticking.  Jack’s mouth was dry.  he was speechless.  tick tock.  tick tock.  tick tock.  the clock continued to tick.  the clock continued to tock.
everyone looked old.  everyone looked sad.  “what happened?” Jack asked his family.
“we’ve lead a hard life Jack.” they answered.  everyone except Jack’s deceased Dad.  he couldn’t talk.  he only smiled.
“do you want a beer?” Jack asked his family.
one hour later the whole family was drunk and laughing.  drunk and playing.  drunk and talking.  drunk and hugging.
music blaring.  energy soaring.
the clock continued to tick but nobody heard it.
life.
family.
fun.
clock ticking.
love.

another day has come to an end.  another day with not much accomplished.  read a few emails.  make a few calls.  eat lunch.  eat dinner.  spend money and drink coffee.  darkness arrives.  hot tub then vino.  in between the nothingness there was a hike with Triggy and then another hike alone.  a drive to the city to pick up some boots for Rylee and then a drive back home.  fill up the car with gas and then drink a Timmies coffee.  another day closer to death or closer to the age when you might as well be dead.  is there anyone out there who can help the old man who wants to do something with his life but can no longer move?   no longer speak?  age and time constantly moving.  moving quicker and quicker as life gets sadder and sadder.  the world becoming bigger but less love and less connection.  witnessing my Mom getting older and older while getting lonelier and lonelier.  life becoming scarier and scarier.  wanting more love.  needing more love.  riddled with anxiety that surfaces randomly and riddled with anger that also surfaces randomly.  otherwise I am a happy guy living a happy life that is passing me by much too quickly and yet I feel that I am swimming in quicksand while my brain is on a roller-coaster.  one grey hair has become forty grey hairs.  the balding I could take.  the grey hairs are much harder to accept.  feeling like I am twenty-five but looking like I am eighty-five.  girls no longer finding me attractive.  guys no longer threatened by me.  my daughter sometimes not even looking up to me.  the race to make something out of my life consumes me but my mind is shattered.  cluttered.  so is my heart.  I miss my Dad more and more and still wonder why he died so long ago.  I also wonder why my Mom never re-married.  I wonder what goes on in her head.  does she worry about dying?  does she miss my Dad?  does she miss my brother and I?  is she lonely?  is she sad?  does she want a big hug or does she want her husband back?  is loneliness hereditary?  good friends are dying while little kids are getting berated by their amateur basketball coach.  dull people everywhere on a treadmill that spins and spins but goes nowhere.  taxes.  mortgages.  bad jobs.  failed relationships and BOOM you look in the mirror and you are fifty.  more wrinkles.  more aches.  more pains.  daughter was once one but now she is ten.  “where did the ten years go?”  “has anything changed?”  on medications.  off medications.  major confidence.  no confidence.  healthy.  unhealthy.  exercise.  no exercise.  art.  no art.  up down and all around and always back to the computer with a bottle of wine and nothing else…except a sore back.
hug someone.  kiss someone.  why coach basketball if you are not passionate about basketball nor passionate about kids?  why is there so much hate in this world?  I love human beings regardless of their race or gender.  Governments fucking up life but we continue to support them.  revere them.  useless peasants with suits preaching hate and violence but smiling with fake white teeth while they preach.  FUCK THEM!!!
another day closer to death.  sitting in an uncomfortable chair in an uncomfortable house.  wanting my chair and my house back.  want to be in Europe.  want to be in Vancouver.  want to be in New York City but also want to be in Hockley or on a remote piece of land in the middle of nowhere overlooking a beautiful lake.  love people but also despise people but still feel we should all connect more.  all love more.  all listen more.  I wish we had less rules and more laughter.  more tears but also more smiles.  fuck the shitty television shows but also fuck the shitty music.  do not be a walking zombie on your short time on earth.  make something of your life.  find your passion.  find your purpose.  my back is sore from this shitty chair but instead of complaining I should move…but I stay.  typical man in a typical world.
looking back on life and feeling pain.  feeling sadness.  standing outside my Auntie Marion’s and Uncle Mac’s house in Unionville waiting for them to open the door on one cold Saturday morning in February.  Mrs. Vine behind me.  my brother beside me.  door opens and we walk in.  ten people in a small room all crying.  seeing my Mom bawling in her blue and white housecoat.  sitting on the blue reclining chair.  “LIFE WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME.”  “Your Dad never made it Chris.  He’s gone to a better place.”  CRYING and CRYING and CRYING and CRYING…never ends until life ends.  one friend dies then another is born.  then one friend dies and then another one is born.  many friends dying too early.  too nice.  need a purpose.  need a conviction.  NEED HELP but doctor’s never helping.  almost forty years of psychotherapy but just as fucked up as forty years ago.  acceptance?  forgiveness?  my back hurts while sitting on this shitty chair.  “NO MAS.”
lost.  love.  sad.  happy.  touch.  feel.  smile.  cry.  hug.  love.  hate.  kill.  why?  die?  life.
I need more human connection and less toys.  more dinners with friends and less political bullshitters.
I LOVE EVERYONE AND WANT TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE.
I miss you Dad.  I miss you Mom.

another great person gone much much MUCH too young.  a woman filled with love and happiness and more love and empathy and a HUGE HEART and an even bigger soul.  a woman that never spoke ill of anyone.  a woman who brightened every room she entered.  a woman full of life and full of laughter.  gone.  why?  why is it always why?  and why are my questions never answered?
her beautiful sister leaving us much too early as well.  she suffered in pain with a dreaded disease and now this.  what have her parents done to deserve so much pain and agony???  NOT FUCKING FAIR!!!
memories fill my head and fill my heart.  memories of great times spent with Bess.  many of the drunken kind but that is what Bess was all about.  fun.  fun.  and more fun.  we also had great conversations about life and great conversations about love.  I remember walking down the strip in Acapulco at four in the morning drunkenly looking for food and drunkenly looking for our room that we all shared.  The Cult or INXS blaring.  me lip synching.  fan blowing hot air through my hairy chest.  Bess killing herself with laughter. I am sure she carried me home some nights and managed to keep me out of trouble other nights and never a judgement on her part.  just a big friendly smile with words of. “I love you Chris.  You kill me.”  an amazing human being.
St. Robert’s parties.  Cottage parties.  Acapulco.  RPM.  House parties.  Concerts.  a life filled with fun and love.
I remember one night being drunk at Ontario Place and stupidly walking around with a rubber penis on a coat hanger.  I would tap various people on the back of the neck and they would turn around and freak out on me and then I ran into Bess.  I started dying with laughter and so did she.  but no judgement.  no words of, “you need to grow up.”  just a big old hug and a big old laugh.  LOVE.  REAL LOVE FROM A LOVELY PERSON.
I remember being at Mount Sinai as her sister, Kelly, was dying of cancer and seeing Bess by her bedside.  still amidst all the suffering Bess managed a smile and a hug and was so GRATEFUL that I came down.  she could not thank me enough.  but I wasn’t the only one there as her sister Kelly, was also a lovely person with a huge heart and a huge soul.  endless smiles and endless laughs.  two amazing sisters gone way too early!!!
Years passed and I saw Bess less and less.  I got married.  had a young girl.  moved in and out of Toronto.  typical life events and happenings that typically take over lives and sometimes keep you from seeing your good friends and good family.  But then I would see Bess again at Rob and Maria’s house and it would be like we were never apart.  laughs and hugs and kisses and lots of talk involving lots of booze and lots of … and then we would part ways again.
I remember walking through Bellwoods Park with Rylee one cold Saturday afternoon and there was Bess.  all smiles.  all hugs.  It was the first time that she had met Rylee and she was immediately drawn to her.  she showered her with the same love and care that she showered everyone with.  so genuine.  so real.  so honest.  and Rylee immediately LOVED her too.  good kids know good adults.  they see and feel better than adults and Rylee was mesmerized by Bess.  we spent the rest of the day with Bess at the park for a fundraiser that Bess was helping out with for one of her gazillion friends.  such a random meeting but such a rewarding and fun one too.  Bess drove us back to our condo and Rylee insisted that Bess come up to our place.  Of course Bess came up.  she could never say “no”.  Plus she had to use the washroom.  hahaha (that one is for you Bess).
and now I sit here crying.  thinking about her.  thinking about her parents.  thinking about her brother.  thinking about her great friends, including Maria and Soraya.  knowing that they are both devastated as well.
tears……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
more tears……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
and more tears……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
why??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
tears……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
BYE BESS.  YOU WERE LOVED BY SO MANY AND YOU LOVED US ALL BACK.
YOU TRULY TRULY TRULY WILL BE MISSED.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
love your friend Chris.

Jack Tait walked into his remote farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and flicked on the lights.  he was cold.  he was wet.  he was tired.   he was lonely.  sixty years of living.  sixty years of grieving.  sixty years of good friends.  sixty years of good times mixed in with sixty years of tough times.  life never seemingly consistent. 
Jack Tait grabbed a sixty pounder of Jack Daniels and sat on his shitty old purple reclining chair.  no glass needed.  thirty minutes later the bottle was empty and Jack was asleep.  his mind drifting into a calm and relaxed state.  ten minutes later the dream had started.  the dream looked back on Jack’s life.  the good times.  the bad.  moments that defined Jack Tait.  The good.  the bad.  GRIEF playing a big part.
It started with fun times with his family.  hockey.  soccer.  tennis.  baseball.  school.  recess.  playing Kick The Can.  throwing hockey cards against the wall.  throwing snowballs at cars.  early morning hockey practices in frigid weather when the sun hadn’t come up.  birthday parties and Friday night take-out.
ACT 1…life was great.
ACT 2…Friday February 17th 1978.  Jack’s Dad died.  Jack playing at home with his brother.  Pillow fights and then eating Mr. Sub’s.  Then Keith Mingham arrives at Jack’s house and tells Jack of his Dad’s accident.  panic.  panic in Mom.  panic in Keith.  panic in Jack’s brother’s eyes.  a house full of panic and near pain.  Jack and his brother whisked off to Mr. and Mrs. Vine’s house.  Jack’s Mom and Keith ride panic stricken to the hospital.  “I’m sorry Mairi.  You’re husband didn’t make it.”  SCREAMS OF PAIN heard throughout the hospital.  Jack and his younger brother lay in bed hoping for the best.  the next day they are driven to their Aunt’s and Uncle’s house.  they ring the bell and the door is answered.  Jack walks in and he sees tears of loss everywhere.  Jack cries and runs to his Mom.  he holds her tight and won’t let go.  “Your Dad has gone to a better place”.  Lies beginning for Jack at a young age.
Jack and his family in pain for weeks to come.  funerals.  burials.  missed school.  missed work.  sleepless nights and nightmares suffocating poor Jack and his family.  one month later Jack’s Nana dies.  she had diabetes but she was always there for Jack.  but not anymore.  gone.  forgotten funeral combined with a forgotten burial.  Jack’s mind already learning how to block things out.  “who’s next?”  the answer came quickly.  a few weeks after Jack’s Nana died and almost two months after Jack’s Dad died more pain.  more hurt.  more loss???  ALMOST.  Jack came home one day to find his Mom passed out in their bathroom with her friend, Annie, trying to help out.  panic once again.  helpless once again.  the Paramedics barged in and luckily revived Jack’s Mom.  apparent overdose on tranquillizers.  suicide attempt?  will never know.  TWO MONTHS OF SHEER TERROR.  Jack Tait was ten years old.
Life  continued for Jack Tait.  his Mom was taken away for a month.  he and his brother stayed at a family friend’s house while his Mom attempted to recover from her tragedy.  her grief.  lonely times for a lonely family.  lonely brother’s and a lonely Mom.  school started up again soon after Jack’s Mom came back from the hospital.  kids treated him differently for awhile but then it was soon back to normal on the outside.  school.  sports.  “kick the can”.  road hockey.  hockey cards.  take-out becoming more prevalent.  life seemingly getting back to normal aside from dreams of Jack’s Dad alive again.  happy again.  hugs and kisses.  only dreams.  never a reality.
eleven.  twelve.  thirteen.  fourteen.  no changes.  sports.  fun.  missing Dad.  lots of babysitters.  high school to begin soon.  high school filled with angst.  drunkenness.  fucking girls.  getting rejected by girls.  getting molested by an old Greek man.  getting in fights with boys.  angry.  sad.  angst ridden.  drunk.  arrests.  fights with Mom.  fights with friends.  fights with enemies.  psychiatrists and drugs.  drunk and reckless.  lost and lonely.  Jack Tait was SCREAMING FOR HELP but no one was listening!!!
Jack Tait eventually finished high school and attended college.  Colleges to be exact.  Durham College.  Seneca College.  Mount Royal College.  George Brown College.  A man searching for love and searching for purpose but stuck in GRIEF and STUCK in pain.  sports continued but so did booze, drugs, and reckless behaviour.  sexual debauchery and angry outbursts becoming the norm.  psychiatrists still involved but none helping.  Jack Tait was a lost and lonely man and he was now approaching thirty years old.  his Mom still single, sad, and alone.  his brother “moving on” as best he could.  Jack Tait was having fun but he was also very lost and very much in pain.  AA meetings.  Psychiatrists.  arrests.  North Bay Detox Centre.  Don Jail.  Mimico.  Toronto East.  What was becoming of poor Jack Tait.  Love seemingly lost in a blanket of dust and a blanket of rust.  minor achievements drowned out by major setbacks.  Jack Tait was approaching thirty-six.  the year his Dad passed away.  scared and alone.  lost.
ACT 3…Jack gets married and has a beautiful daughter.  Jack Tait was continuing his sexually debaucherous ways when he met a much younger girl.  a cute girl.  a fun girl.  a lost and lonely young girl.  they connected.  they connected hard and connected fast and the relationship was extremely passionate and extremely volatile.  many ups.  many downs.  good times and bad.  things were getting better for Jack Tait.  visits with his lonely Mother were happening less and less.  two years later Jack Tait and his girlfriend were still together.  movies.  dinners.  drunken nights at the Madison Pub and hungovered days at Starbuck’s.  both lonely and lacking love.  together they found love and hope in each other.  they would stick together through thick and thin.  “till death do us part”.  real love in a phony world.  PREGNANT.  Sarah was pregnant.  scared.  abortion a possibility.  tears of fear.  no abortion.  LOVE.  what to do?  what to do?  “WE’RE HAVING A BABY!!!!!!!!!!!”  and with that Jack Tait and Sarah decided to move in together.  love becoming stronger.
Nine months later a beautiful but extremely collicky baby was born.  they named her Taylor and they officially became a family.  four years later they got married in Cuba.  ten years later Jack Tait and Sarah have a ten year old girl.  a beautiful, loving, caring, funny, passionate, and intelligent ten year old girl. ten years moving by very quickly for Jack.  “where does time go?”
Jack’s Dad never getting a chance to meet his wife.  nor his daughter.  Jack’s Mom getting old.  all alone and still in the same house where she once lived with her husband and kids.  Jack’s brother starting his own family.  Jack still lost and still sad.  still seeing psychiatrists.  still taking meds to block out pain and to function in this sad and happy world.  hopeful for the future of his daughter and wanting love for all, Jack Tait knows that life will end one day and that saddens him.  he has finally found LOVE and never wants it to end.  FAMILY…LOVE…LOSS…GRIEF…LOVE CONQUERS ALL…HOPE.  Jack Tait.  Sarah.  and Taylor.  FAMILY LOVE.