The One Way Trip (Chapter One - The Introduction)

I went walking past Sunnyside Nursing Home - a senior hot spot.

The day was damp and moldy like some of the oldies sitting outside

on rows of identical wooden chairs - chilling in the setting sun.

I've walked that path before, being watched as folks

stare. I hate being stared at. It makes my blood run cold and the

hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This time though, I

suddenly become aware of time thinning - loose and floppy like

wattles and saggy skin. Above my head two shit hawks fight over a

scrap of garbage. To my left the river flows, dank and dingy,

smelling old and used up.

I remember what this place used to look like back in the mid

sixties when I was a kid. Nothing but gopher holes, scrub brush,

and rolling prairie covered with rough fescue, yellow yarrow and

golden bean fighting for a hold among the thistles. Silver sage

and dust perfumed the dry restless air. That wind... my childhood

memories are forever linked with it. Rustling, whistling, forever

moving, inuating itself into every fibre of my being.

Back then time was forever. Thick and syrupy and rich with endless

discoveries. We'd spend hours exploring beneath the hot sun

cooling off in the dappled shade of whispering aspens and cotton

wood trees or in the tangle of willows and undergrowth growing on

the clay banks of the Saskatchewan River. We'd play hide 'n seek,

dream about what we were going to be when we grew up, talked about

boys abd girls and sex ...it was a kid's paradise.

Walking away, I look over my shoulder at the oldies still staring

at me. My blood running cold. "Fucking reptiles" I think to my

self. It's an ugly thought - but hey, they freak me out. I know

it's mean and I'm not proud for thinking it - and have

enough sense to keep these thoughts to myself ... most of the time.

I can't help but wonder how many other people think similar

thoughts. Civilized human living just isn't real life. We don't

really want real life. It's too ugly. Civilized people don't want

to come face to face with their own ferocity. It scares the hell

out of them and that pisses them off. The truth is ... any truth

that bites us in the ass making us face our true ugly and

animalistic tendancies is hidden, scuffed over or made taboo.

We are bound and controlled in some manner by the "civilized code

of conduct" Being civilized means being a consummate liar. The

more procficient a liar you are the more "genteel" you appear

Personally, I've always thought the "genteel" were nothing but

bullies and assholes. It's much harder to be real, because reality

scares the fuck out of us. Becoming old is real, man, even freaky -

no doubt about it. The whole idea of truth is really just a dream

within a dream. We hide from it. You see it's all about the "one

way trip". How long is yours gonna be be? Or mine? Now, that's a

conundrum - especially given the alternative - and it's the

realness of this conundrum that scares the living piss out us.

It's like we are programmed - hard wired one might say to fool

ourselves. Of all creatures, only humankind is suppose to be aware

of their inpending mortality. We know we can't live forever. That

ugly reality screws up our heads and unless we hide from it on

a day to day levelwe might go nuts. For instance we claim to love

and respect our elderly but if we really examine how we treat them,

well hey, it's really just another lie. We euphemize our fear of

aging with empty platitudes smeared and reeking of - bullshit. No

one wants to be fucking old - but for the most part all of us want

to live so we play these stupid, hopeless games with ourselves

and .... mostly ...mostly we avoid thinking about it all together.

Which is why we don't like hanging around old people - smelling the

stink of mothballs, shit, piss and, well let's face it... death.

Yeah ...it's all about the one way trip.