notanotherphony.

Jack Tait woke up with a pounding head and blurry eyes.  he no longer could tell if he was sick or it was just old age.  he remembered being a kid and someone telling him that getting old was good.  “You are much more stable when you are older.  more stable.  more wisdom.  getting old is a blessing.”  Jack forgot who told him this.  he forgot many things in his old age.  his mind finally succumbing to forty years of booze and forty years of drugs.  both legal and illegal.  the legal ones sometimes causing more harm than the illegal.  a ferris wheel of thoughts and a rollercoaster of emotions.  Jack Tait’s head was still pounding three minutes later and his eyes were still blurry.  he drank two coffees and ate one piece of a bagel with peanut butter on it.  the natural kind.  Jack Tait was trying to get healthy.  Finally.  his one success in the world was not getting cancer.  he dreaded the dreaded disease and he knew that it had ripped many families apart and had taken many strong men and many strong women down but for some reason it had never affected Jack Tait.  Not yet anyhow.
Jack Tait left his deserted farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and hopped on his blue tricycle.  he needed to get his exercise in before he sat back down on his shitty purple recliner and masturbated for four hours.  Jack Tait rode his bike down the long driveway and exited his haven of peace and quiet.  he knew that he was going to meet sad people and angry people and sometimes even sad and happy people all in the same body.  he was once one of those people.  now he is just lonely.
Jack Tait rode past red stop signs and old stores.  he also rode past farms and people in carriages with horses carrying them from town to town.  Mennonites hanging on to some sort of long lost past where men and women waited to get married before having sex but then once the sex was allowed they did nothing but fuck and produce babies and their babies would eventually become eighteen and they would get married and then they would do nothing but fuck and produce babies.  lost souls in lost towns everywhere.
Jack Tait rode for three hours and in that three hours saw more and felt more than most humans see and feel in a lifetime.  he was naked and he was open.  he was alive and he was optimistic even though he was sad and had one ball.  aches and pains being forgotten while thoughts of his daughter crept to the forefront of Jack’s diminishing mind.  he thought of her graduation and her ukulele.  he thought of the time that he took her on a date to a very hip restaurant in Toronto.  he also thought of the time she fell off of her scooter and broke her two front teeth and broke her wrist.  he remembered seeing the fear in her eyes and the blood on her hands and shirt and mouth.  Jack began to cry as he wished one big motherfucking wish that he could live with his daughter forever.  that he would go to movies with her and ski with her and play bad board games with her and even listen to her gossip about the bratty kids in school.  Jack Tait stopped his tricycle and began to get dizzy.  his head was still pounding.  his back was sore.  his eyes blurry and wet from the crying.  he sat on the soft shoulder and counted the rolls on his hairy belly.  he looked up at the sky and then looked at the vast and empty farm fields.  he tried to stop crying but he couldn’t.  his heart was pounding and sore.  his breath was becoming fast and weak.  coughing.  choking.  alone.  side of the empty rode.  shaky hands and shaky fingers.  nothing working the way it once did.  “getting old is good?”
Jack Tait picked up his blue tricycle and walked home.  naked.  alone.  choices in life.  loves lost.  but loves never forgotten.  love should be the most important thing in this world but love is lost and narcissism is rampant.  selfies and shared stupid dog tricks.  Jack Tait wanted love.  he wanted life.  he wanted a big family filled with love and respect but instead walks silently home with sore feet and sore muscles.  but nothing hurts more than his lonely heart.

Jack Tait looked in the mirror above his bed and saw age.  saw wrinkles.  saw tired eyes and tired skin.  he felt fine but age doesn’t lie.  many people try to escape from getting old but Jack Tait knew this was a futile attempt at prolonging a life that sometimes isn’t worth prolonging.  he knew that there is no way of escaping death.  he knew that he could get facelifts and tummy tucks and hair transplants and liposuction and inject his lips with other poisons but it did not fix the initial problem…”I AM GETTING OLD AND I WILL EVENTUALLY DIE AND THAT WILL BE SHITTY BECAUSE I LOVE LIFE AND NEVER WANT TO DIE.”
Jack Tait looked outside at his empty fields and empty driveway and wondered where all of his youth went.  where his life went.  he was once a little child with big open eyes and a big smile with a big mouth and an even bigger heart.  he laughed.  he played.  he ran in the park and swam in the ponds.  he collected Preying Mantis’ and butterflies and even caught some fish.  he would play baseball and soccer and football and tennis in the summer and then he would play hockey in the winter.  he remembered his Dad bringing him to early morning hockey practices.  he also remembered getting stitches on his bleeding chin after he fell on the ice.  he remembered playing “kick the can”.  he also remembered throwing snowballs at cars and playing “knicky knicky nine doors”.  he remembered his first school dance in grade 8 where the girls stood against one wall while the tough boys stood against the other (scared shittless).  he remembered Stairway To Heaven playing and it lasted a very long time.  fun times.  fun friends.  fun parents.  fun.  fun.  fun.
Jack Tait also remembered his Dad dying and sirens and panic in his Mom’s eyes and Mom’s heart.  he remembered his Nana dying too.  he then remembered his Mom almost dying from a drug overdose.  screams.  then being separated from his Mom for a month while she was in a hospital.  Jack Tait remembered having a BIG BROTHER.  the kind you get when you don’t have a Dad anymore.  the man was nice but nothing was going to replace Jack’s Dad.
Jack Tait then remembered being in high school and being small and nervous and wishing he had a male influence in his life for a scary time in his life.  a time when men grow and women grow too.  sometimes growing together and then a family grows and one by one the family gets bigger and happier and life takes over and rules are made and rules are broken and fights then break out and nasty words are said and tears are shed and then life sometimes stops and tears come again.  and families get smaller and then families get even smaller as people leave and then they get their own families and then sometimes you don’t end up seeing your family.  ever.  never.
Jack Tait remembered surviving high school.  fights.  girls.  drunken nights.  missed appointments.  missed opportunities.  missed days.  foggy nights.  crappy brown uniforms but nice teachers and a nice soccer field.  he remembered drinking before doing speeches in Religion class.  he also remembered getting really drunk at dances and having the courage to “hit on” the beautiful girl in his homeroom class.  Jack Tait got rejected but he remembered having courage.  he eventually fucked his first girl.  he remembered that girl.  not so much now but he remembered her twenty years ago.  Jack Tait then remembered having shitty jobs cutting lawns and getting in fights with his lonely and angry Mom.  he remembered wasting (?) much of his twenties on booze, drugs, and girls.  fun times in a fun world but problematic times too.  arrests.  fights.  blackouts.  no money and no direction.  Jack Tait remembered all of this.  he also remembered getting sexually molested by some old Greek man who picked him up while he hitchhiked.  he remembered that one very vividly.  he wondered why he allowed it but he did.  many questions and never any answers for Jack Tait.
Jack Tait then remembered getting angry and fighting people and fighting things.  he remembered that he overcompensated for allowing an old Greek man to molest him and not do anything about it.
Jack Tait then remembered fucking many girls and not loving them.  he remembered the excitement.  he remembered the passion.  he remembered the thrill of the chase and the thrill of the unknown.  Jack Tait then remembered having three girlfriends and they were great and it was so much fun but then Jack remembered it always ended in sorrow and despair.  sadness and loss.  Jack Tait remembered the good old days but as he started remembering he realized that there were many bad days in the good old days.
Jack Tait then remembered meeting one girl that ended up lasting longer than the other girls.  Jack Tait remembered wanting to see her in the hallways of his College and getting nervous when he talked to her.  he remembered “making out” in the darkroom at school and then “making out” in her car.  he also remembered having sex with her for the first time and it was amazing!!!  he then remembered moving in with her and then breaking up with her and then getting back with her and then breaking up with her and then getting her pregnant and then having an abortion and Jack Tait remembers feeling terrible because he didn’t go with the girl to the hospital to be by her side while she went through a very difficult time.
Jack Tait then remembered she left for Alberta so he followed her.  he remembered fun times hiking in the mountains but then he remembered she broke up with him again and life went in a different direction again.
Jack Tait then remembers how he liked Calgary and fucked many girls there too but he missed his friends and so he came back to Toronto.  he remembers going to Theatre School and having fun.  and he remembers living alone in a dingy little basement apartment where he ate mushrooms and had threesomes and one time he even had a fivesome.
Jack Tait remembers auditioning and he remembers putting on plays and having baths.  he remembers bad hangovers and Starbucks.
Jack Tait was about to fall asleep when he remembered the girl who saved him from “nothingness” and made him human in an otherwise inhumane world.  he remembered the night he met her and the excitement for a beautiful girl.  he remembered chasing her around the bar and offering his phone number to her many many times.  then he remembered losing out on her to someone else but then he remembered being persistent and eventually being with her.
he remembered the great times.  great times doing nothing but hanging out with each other and watching movies and drinking coffee and drinking lots of booze at night and having sex all day.  great sex!!!  he remembers her smile and her walk.  he remembers waking up beside her and holding her and not wanting to let go. he remembered the time that they were driving and touching each other and then the brakes didn’t work and panic set in as their car was about to hit the car in front of them but then somehow someway the brakes worked again.  he remembered laughing with the girl.  Jack Tait remembered all the great times with his old girlfriend.  he remembered wanting to be with her all the time and he also remembered her showing up at his work and waiting for him to finish.  lots of ups some downs but more ups than downs and then Jack remembers his girlfriend missing her period and panic setting in once again.  he remembers the many Clearblue tests and 3am runs to the 24 hour drug store to get more Clearblue tests to do that all ended up in a positive reading.
Jack Tait remembers his girlfriend crying.  he remembers holding her.  he remembers, “I guess we’re going to have a baby!!!”
Jack Tait then started nodding off.  he fell back with his eyes closed.  he dreamed of a beautiful young daughter with a huge personality and an even bigger heart.  he dreamed of holding her and watching her learn how to walk.  how to talk.  he dreamed of her first Daycare class and leaving her with someone for the first time.  he then dreamed of her first day of Grade 1.  Jack Tait began to cry tears of joy.  he woke up and looked at his old family album.  he saw pictures of his Dad.  his Mom.  his brother.  he then saw pictures of his wife.  his daughter.  all the laughter.  all the fun and all the hugs.  his daughter was once one.  she was then two and then three.  she is now 24 years old. 
Jack Tait cried for twenty four minutes.  naked.  alone.
“please slow down time.  please.  I want to find my wife and daughter and live with them forever and ever just like in the fairy tales.”

Jack Tait looked in the mirror and saw pain.  saw shame.  saw a life lived but a life sometimes lived in vain.  he walked to the kitchen and scratched another “x” on the extremely outdated calendar.  a calendar that was once used to keep Jack in jail.  in compliance with a world that was set up for boring rich pukes and other useless and irrelevant maggots to keep talented and outspoken threats to their riches down.  deep down in a gutter of shame and booze.  but Jack escaped.  Jack escaped many years earlier.  it wasn’t easy but he did it.  he took abuse from his family.  from his friends.  from his co-workers.  from dumb owners of Thai Restaurants and even dumber owners of shoe companies.  boring stiffs with boring haircuts and boring sex lives.  Jack Tait fucked over two hundred women in his life and even wore a condom once.  he wished he hadn’t.  stupid condom getting in the way of Jack’s enormous explosion of rage against all the people who harmed him.  he needed a release from the shackels that continued to keep him down.  keep him controlled.  keep him in his box…or rather their box of stupid rules and stupid tools.
  Jack left his rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and jumped on his blue tricycle.  he was naked and cold.  he rode to the end of his long driveway and hung a left.  his penis hung right.  Jack Tait was on a mission today.  he wanted to go door to door to find just how many people lived lives worth talking about.  worth discussing.  lives that actually had even a semblance of meaning in an otherwise meaningless world.  one by one he walked up to shitty houses with shitty doors and rang shitty doorbells.  he even passed shitty cars that maggots believed were fantastic.  cars that had huge monthly payments.  then he arrived at houses with huge monthly payments.  huge monthly payments made to huge dull banks.  huge payments made to rich fat white slobs that looked down on anyone who didn’t kiss their small penises and even smaller souls. 
Jack knocked on doors that didn’t have doorbells.
“Hello.  Can I help you?”  said the old white bald man in a white robe with white teeth.
“My name is Jack Tait and I am here to ask you what contributions you make to this world.  So what contributions do you make to this world?”
“I am an actor.”
“WOW!!!  Really?  That is amazing.  what have I seen you in or on or whatever the fuck they say?”
“I don’t appreciate the language my friend.  I have won many Gemini Awards and I don’t need to speak with you any longer.  Please leave before I call my own personal security guard Achmed and he will remove you from the premises.”
“You are definitely important Mr. Actor.  You are such an inspiration to our youth of today.  You teach them the laws of compliance and obediency.  I will leave you alone to your old dog and old wife.  Au Revoir.”
Jack Tait left with a smile and proceeded to the next house in Forest Hill.  This time he walked by pitbulls and sprinkler systems that were out of service.  he spoke with lawyers.  he spoke with Drake.  he spoke with nanny’s.  he spoke with rich useless housewives and even rich useless politicians.  everyone seemingly useless in an area that is seemingly at the top of the food chain.  Jack Tait left Forest Hill numb and uninspired.  onto the next area in his experiment.  his analysis.  Yonge and Eglinton.  here he met some fake family doctors. some fake owner’s of shoe companies and fake presidents of insurance fraud companies.  all the same.  dull and slaves to a society that favours right wing richy types and lowers the boom on the real artists.  not the fairy tale types but the gritty ones who try to inspire.  try to change.  a world that is becoming sicker by the day.  a world that applauds the rich evil types but stifles the smart and passionate fighters.  the fighters who could make a difference in this world filled with followers and fraudsters.
Jack jumped on his tricycle and rode to the poor areas of the city and found the same phony bullshit.  phony poor people acting as if they belonged in Compton but not realizing that the fake Compton folk are following fake celebrities and fake leaders.  everyone fending for themselves in a world with less souls than brains. 
Jack Tait had had enough.  fake fraudsters everywhere.  he rode to the bottom of Bay Street and turned right.  he was sweating and the grime from the decaying Gardiner Expressway was hitting his bald head.  he arrived at the bottom of the CN TOWER and jumped off of his tricycle.  he entered the building and walked up the many many stairs until he arrived at the Observation Deck.  Jack scared everyone away.  they went inside and pulled the fire alarm.  sirens blaring.  darkness arriving.  lights shining in Jack’s decaying eyes.
“WE ARE A SOCIETY OF SHEEP.  THE POOR PEOPLE ARE FOLLOWING RULES OUT OF FEAR.  THEY ARE STUCK IN A SYSTEM THAT PROVIDES THE BARE NECESSITIES TO THE POOR MAN BUT THE POOR MAN DOES NOT KNOW ANY BETTER.  THE MIDDLE CLASS ARE FOLLOWING RULES PUT IN PLACE BY SLAVE OWNERS TO KEEP THE REAL ARTISTS AT BAY.  TO KEEP THE AMERICAN DREAM WITHIN SOME SORT OF REACH BUT A REACH THAT WILL NEVER BE ACCOMPLISHED BY THE MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF MIDDLE CLASSED SHEEP.  RELIGIONS AND SCHOOLS THAT BUY INTO THE SYSTEM OF REWARDING THE OLD RICH WHITE MAN AND SLOWLY TORTURING THE REST.  LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND YOU ALL LOOK THE SAME.  WAKE UP AND SMELL THE SHIT THAT THE SYSTEM IS FEEDING YOU.  REBEL.  DO NOT LISTEN.  DO NOT GIVE IN.  DO NOT WATCH SHITTY TV.  SHITTY MOVIES.  DO NOT SHOP AT SHITTY STORES AND DO NOT EAT SHITTY FOOD.  AND PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT WAIT TO DIE TO GET TO A HEAVEN THAT DOES NOT EXIST.  LIVE BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE.  ALSO DO NOT BE AFRAID TO TELL SOME OLD RICH WHITE GUY THAT HE IS A FUCKING SNAKE AND GOOD FOR NOTHING BUT COUNTING DOLLARS AND COUNTING GREY PUBIC HAIRS.”
Jack Tait walked back inside.  his penis large and his one ball firm.  he was calm and happy.  he was a man that refused to let the dull boring soulless stiffs win in HIS game.  HIS RULES.  CREATED BY HIM. 
life is amazing even when it appears that it is not.
Jack Tait arrived at the bottom of the CN Tower and walked outside.
Jack Tait immediately fell to the ground in a barrage of gunfire.  a never ending sea of bullets.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!  Someone please…help…mom?  dad?  Taylor?  Sarah?  Anyone?”
 

Jack Tait walked outside of his deserted farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and wondered just what happened to his life.  no more friends.  no more lovers.  no more money.  no more sex.  no more parents.  no more wife.  no more daughter.  no more rules.
he finally achieved what he wanted.  loneliness.  he left the battle many years earlier but still had collection agents and other useless maggots tracking him down.  but now he sits alone on his blue tricycle.  naked.  alone.  cold.  but still full of life.  a life that was once filled with following useless rules made by useless people to keep the riches with the rich and the opinions of the smart but poor buried underneath their shitty cars and shitty homes in shitty Forest Hill.  a world filled with boring opinions and boring pussies.  desperate animals all chasing the American dream but settling for owning tiny townhouses in tiny Tottenham.  “I FINALLY BOUGHT MY FIRST HOME!!!”  “Who gives a flying fuck…do you want a fucking medal filled with fucking penny loafers and fucking khaki pants pulled up to my fucking tits so you can see my fucking one big ball of semen stuck to my fucking big fucking hairy fucking leg!!!  FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!  YOU ARE RUINING MY LIFE MAGGOT.”
Jack Tait leaned back on his tricycle and looked at the blue skies above.  he saw a picture of Hitler in the faint clouds and remembered he saw a picture of Hitler twenty years earlier in the sky.  back then it was four grams of mushrooms.   this time it was forty years of booze and coffee.  blurred mind. but not a blurred soul.  most people have blurred souls and clear minds.  sick individuals teaching other sick individuals how to live in this sick world.  Jack Tait refused to listen.  he had listened for far too long and all he had to show for it was a blue tricycle and one big hairy ball.
Jack Tait began to pedal.  one foot at a time.  he made it to the end of his driveway and turned right.  he had no idea where he was going but that was no different than the past sixty years.  no direction and no guidance.  a man left to fend for himself in a world filled with vultures and opportunists.  Jack Tait continued down the yellow brick road.  he continued to pedal.  he continued to dream.  he wondered how it was all going to end.  how he was going to finally succumb to the evils above but he refused to believe that he would ever get taken down.  will power.  soul power.  heart power.  angry power.  things missing in todays youth.  todays middle aged and todays elders.  “was life ever good?”
Jack Tait stopped at the beer store and pulled out his Louisville Slugger.  he began to smash everyone and everything in sight.  sixty years of frustration released in five minutes of RAGE.  Molson Canadian.  Molson Export.  Molson Golden.  Labatt’s Blue.  Coors Light.  shit beers.  shit people.  Jack knew the beer store was a reflection of life.  a metaphor for life.  so much potential mired in dullness and complacency.  average product making millions while great product collects the dust in the corners of the shelves.  the corners of the streets.  McDonald’s.  Walmart.  Target.  Winners.  Hollywood.  Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Burger King.  sloppy product for sloppy people.  The smartest never having the resources to fight the dumb.  to fight the dull.
Jack Tait left the beer store all alone.  he had a smile and a twinkle in his eye.  he once asked twenty year olds to buy him beer when he was fifteen.  back then he drank Schooner.  he didn’t know shit beer from good.  but he grew up and used his own mind.  his own taste buds to decide for himself.  Jack Tait also fucked many girls.  girls who were once vibrant and fun.  filled with a fire.  filled with a desire.  girls unfortunately grow up and become woman and then become dull and bitter.  except for the few good ones.  no different than guys.  Jack was once a sexist misogynistic pig.  now he realizes that most humans are pieces of useless dull meat.  he knows of a few great woman and a few great men.  the rest are rehashed shit from the previous generation of losers. 
Jack Tait arrived back at his heaven in the middle of nowhere and sat on his purple reclining chair.  he sat.  and sat.  and sat.  he thought of all his old girlfriends.  he wondered what came of them.  he knew that he had outlived most but life would eventually catch up to him.  his left rib cage began to feel sore.  he looked at old dead flowers and felt hot.  music making Jack smile.  he looked down the long hallway at the empty door.  it was now dark.  he thought of his long lost daughter.  he remembered telling her that “I will never leave you boo boo.  I love you so much.  You are the bestest of the bestest of the bestest of the bestest of the bestest of the bestest.  I love you sooooooo much.”
“Why do we know someone and love someone for our whole lives and then in a blink of an eye…BOOM…that person is gone and we never see them again???”  Jack Tait will die at some point and eventually be forgotten like everyone else.
sad.

Jack Tait woke up and immediately pulled down his pants and jerked off.  ten minutes later he ran to the bathroom and took a shit.  he looked to the left and saw no toilet paper so he turned on the water in the shower and stepped in.  he looked down below and saw runny brown water slowly sinking into the yellowy brown drain.  another day closer to death.  his day about to begin.
He walked outside into the bright sunshine and bitterly cold winds.  snow coming down even without clouds.  another unexplainable event in Jack’s tormented and lonely life.  peasants teaching him the rules of life but the rules of life that these peasants were teaching Jack were the rules of life that the so-called gods of the world taught the sheep.  peasants.  ants.  cockroaches.  yellow rabbits and pink rats.  a world filled with maggots and phonies.  with liars and bullshitters.  small dicks winning the race to the top of the mountain.  a mountain filled with fake politicians.  and even faker followers.  a world filled with stupid youtube videos and celebrities that are good for nothing but sucking cock and eating caviar.  celebrities that are forgotten in a blink of a gunshot to the left ear.  music about nothing.  movies about nothing.  books about nothing.  theatre about nothing.  NOTHING IS THE NEW 40.  a 40 calibre bullet pulsating right between the eyes of Prime mINISTERS AND pRESIDENTS.  while lonely.  sad.  hungry children are walking without shoes across the rundown streets of Detroit, Katy Perry is swinging from a rope that is being pulled by a helicopter with fake sharks dancing below.
Jack Tait looked for his tricycle but had to dig out from the beer cans and forty ounce bottles of Jack. He eventually found it and wiped the seat off with his hairy arm.  he stopped to take a big deep breath and then began to pedal.  he was on a mission.
Feb. 17.  1978.
Screams from the hospital resonating to the ears of a young and promising man.  silence combined with fear.  radio playing “Staying Alive” while Jack tossed and turned on the small bed.  memories…are their ever any good ones?
The hospital doors swing open and a young woman runs through.  screaming.  shivering.  lost in thought and lost in life.  a world filled with hope.  filled with dreams.  filled with love.  filled with church going hypocrites and old ladies baking chocolate chip muffins.  LOVE WILL NEVER TEAR US APART as the drains get clogged with blood and urine.  coughing below.
Music interfering in the absurdity of life.  the absurdity of death.  little team of ants running to their next sandtrap.  “how many ants get killed in one summer day in Toronto?”
Jack Tait pedalled and pedalled.  his young mother screaming and screaming.  the doctor looking his MOm in the eye (she had two) and telling her the bad news.  “he didn’t make it.  I’m sorry.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
  Jack Tait continued pedalling. 
 “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
  tears.  Kleenex.  Mrs. Vine.  Mr. Vine.  Toasted Western sandwiches and corner houses filled with crying family members. 
Jack Tait rode through red lights and red people.  red stop signs and red cars.  everything red.  everything irrelevant.  irrelevant lives and irrelevant rules.  his one remaining wish.  “I want to hug you again Dad.”
Jack Tait eventually made it to the cemetery.  his face now reddened and icy.  his beard covering his once handsome and innocent face.  silence once again.  fears revisited.  Jack Tait jumped off of his tricycle and looked around at all the dead leaves.  lonely graves and lonely flowers.  snow covering his Dad’s tombstone.  Jack began to dig and dig and dig some more.  his one nut frozen and lonely.
Jack Tait eventually hacked through all the ice and all the snow.  he leaned down and saw his Dad’s name.  Bernard Wavell McKenna. 1941-1978.  He also saw his Nana’s name.  Mary McKenna.  1914-1978.  Two deaths in one month.  a third saved by efficient and caring paramedics.  not saved by prayers.  there were no miracles in Jack Tait’s young life.  “I’m glad you didn’t die Mom.  That would have been sad.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Jack Tait’s young Mom screaming and screaming.  blank red eyes and beautiful brown skin.  hugs from close friends and close family members.  friends and family that are no longer around.  still alive but not around.  life whizzing by much too quickly.  Jact Tait was once a boy.  Now he is sixty.  Jack’s Mom was once thirty-eight.  she is now seventy-six.  Jack’s Dad was once thirty-six.  he is now buried underground.  thirty seven years underground.  hugs.  kisses.  tears of joy and tears of pain.  broken down walls and broken down cars.  broken souls and broken noses.  great laughs and great food.  topsy turvy life.  topsy turvy emotions.  sixty years old and still fighting the good fight.  Jack Tait jumped back on his tricycle and rode to 11 Lindaway.  his Mom staring out of the window smoking a half smoked cigarette.  lonely.  love.  lost.  worried.  hearts lost and hearts blocked.
Jack Tait looked up and saw pain.  felt empathy.  brick wall finally crashing down in a wave of tears and snot.
“I love you Mom.  please don’t die and leave me all alone.”