Dealing With Disappointment
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| The Halifax Peering Woman Dummy, taken in 2006 |
Dealing with disappointment in life is never easy. You can look back at life with a twisted sense that life was somehow better back then. People would call them 'the good old days' or 'your best moments in life'. I still do think like that from time to time. It's wrong to focus on the past, to believe that, yes, thinking back to conversations with loved ones long gone, you could some how 'recapture' that feeling once again.
I have few good memories from the 1970's - if at all. Things started to really change near the late 1980's after my father passed away in August, 1987. The sad fact was, I feared this man due to his ferocious temper and awful alcohol addiction.
I was shocked how quickly it can change people's attitude and behavior. How aggressive and mean it made most people. I never knew a kind drunk; in fact I always thought people descended into awful violent madness and debauchery.
Fairly soon, I saw how it affected my family and relationships. That quote about 'walking on eggshells' became a fairly normal thing for those in these situations. And it felt truly awful.
During the early 1990's, I began to make my foray into the Winnipeg bar scene, and let me tell you, it was awful.
I frequented country bars, usually Silverados in Winnipeg, and it was packed every Friday and Saturday night. I couldn't really drink much since I was my own driver, and my friends back then didn't like going to the bars at all. Silverado's had this vibe of a young bar, full of vivacious, pretty girls.
One night when I was at Silverados, all hell broke loose. I was standing near the bar and this loud racket erupted behind me. I felt a sting on my face as someone had thrown a shot glass at the head of the man next to me. The glass exploded and cut me on the cheek. A bar fight erupted and I walked away from it. I was an innocent bystander, someone had made another man angry and decided to throw his drink at him.
I didn't really experiment with any drugs back then, and after dealing with a vicious father and also a step-father, my life was on track to steer away from that madness. I distinctly remember one moment, it was 2 in the morning on a Sunday at Silverados, and the lights came on and the music abruptly stopped.
The bar was closing, and it was time to leave. I think that was the last time I ever stayed at a bar that late, and I hated that feeling when the music stopped. Under the harsh lights, people looked different, and I was tired.
I've been to some really terrible establishments. One of those is the Osborne Village Inn (The Zoo). I was a handi-cap taxi driver and my job was to pick up an inebriated woman at this place. It was completely full of bikers and tables made of tires. Once I arrived, I prayed and hoped I wouldn't be attacked. Fortunately, I made it out alive. This was not a place you frequented out of curiosity. There was a unique menacing feeling at this bar. I hadn't felt that feeling until I entered the Back Alley in Calgary in the late 90's. Holy crap that was awful.
More stories to come.
-C
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