Days of our DREAD (aka Day of the Living DREAD) 
(Suggested music: Hold on it’s Coming by Country Joe McDonald)

and ….

I grew up in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. It’s the second coldest capital in the world, next to, you got it …Moscow. And that has nothing to do with the dread. If your thinking where exactly is that Ontario and you have misplaced your Bartholomew Atlas (don’t leave home without it…), then think Toronto which is the provincial capital. Toronto got on the map because:

1) They let them have a baseball team which won the World Series once, much to the horror of Major League baseball

2) Public health there almost wiped out the world by not catching Sars until it was almost too late…

3) Mick Jagger loves Toronto cause there is a really nice, old, fancy hotel downtown where he stays and buy clothes at it’s ultra exclusive men’s clothing store…

So now you know where Ontario was…I think it’ still there so that was should be an ‘is’. When I was growing up, the day I DREADED was the day after Labour Day. Back to School…

My first day at school was at kindergarten and it was short. My Mom dropped me off at the class and I proceeded to cry non-stop, until I was sent home with my Mom. Unfortunately, my parents had a quick solution to that. Next morning, my father went into work late so that he could take me. I don’t remember crying but I do remember staying. In fact, my father’s influence likely led me to really never miss school again, including things like almost missing my wedding cause I had a Grad school class, and working for the BC (figure out where that is on your own) government and never missing a day of work, including in a snow storm while I was on holidays where the only way to get to work was to hitch a ride with the Army, as a state of emergency had been declared. 

Except one Friday afternoon in high school, I skipped one class to go see a football game. But, as my Mom was my schools vice principal at the time, it was hard to get away with such Grand Truancy.

The other thing that seemed to count was the location of my schools. It was really like one school. Broadview Public School was separated from Nepean High School by an alley. The only advantage of going to High School (besides the one where I have my Mom as my vice principal), was that it was a shorter walk from home (this ties in with the coldest capital stuff). So for 14 years (Ontario still had the punishment known as Grade 13), I got to walk to school on that dreaded first day of school always the same way. Not  surprisingly, the day after the last day of high school, I left for a trip across Canada, getting back eventually as a hobo by hopping a freight (do not try this at home – confessional by professional hobo).

Written this day of dread, in the year of the Hare, 2005
As usual, dedicated to Spalding Gray and others