Friday, January 27, 2023

The Suburbs #2

 In the realm of fascinating and grotesque there is no better channel to study than CNBC... yes it might shock one to know that a degenerate stoner sits around to check the markets and listens to the talking heads, not out of some abiding need to make money but more for pure entertainment and a bit of research, call it cultural anthropology. The most amusing segments of this channel involve the panels of talking heads who all wear expensive suits (or pants suits for the women), who gibber and jabber about what they think is going to happen and how what they think is damn near the word of god... if one is inclined to believe in such deities, it's a good old-fashioned cock-off as they say and while this shit is supposed to be serious and civil it often teeters on the brink of uncivility... which for some reason gives me a good chuckle. Out here in the lily-white suburbs i am surrounded by residents whose whole existence is based on the acquisition of goods and the accumulation of wealth, it is a bubble that is disturbing as i watch the youth be brought up thinking that they're "special"... it's not only limited to my little hamlet, there are a good three or four more with roughly the same demographic, about the only saving grace of my burb is that it leans heavily blue, though there are those blips of red, mostly they run for school board and pretend not to be fascists while waving a bible and yapping about taxes... (note: one of my favorite pastimes when meeting those in the brokerage world is comparing what they do to going to the track, it never fails to make them testy and disgruntled as i lay out my argument that betting on the horses is no different than betting on the stock market, it all comes down to the research, the crunching and comparing of figures, the good old fashioned hunch, the brokers all act as if what they do is some mystical endeavor that takes years of schooling and experience... that my friends is complete bullshit.)

And yet the suburbs are home to any number of freaks and weirdos... there is a man who lives up the street from me who appears to wear only a few things... either blue work coveralls or pajamas and a bathrobe, in fact the other day he was wearing his coveralls with his bathrobe and a ushanka on his head. He was standing in his front yard in the drizzle doing absolutely nothing, it was brilliant. In fact i often see him puttering about his front yard for no apparent reason smoking cigarettes and muttering to himself, in my head i've concocted many scenarios about this man, how he got here, what he does, how i enjoy the fact he does not give a fuck, yes he might have a slight mental issue or two and i'm sure he annoys the living shit out of some of his neighbors which is a beautiful thing out here, there are no by-laws stating you have to conform even though it seems like there is an unwritten rule that one should conform... i often wonder if that conformity doesn't lead to madness hence why i believe a man standing in the rain wearing coveralls and a robe may be the most sane man i've seen out here...

Then there is Mrs. Robinson. You can find her on Only Fans under that name, an  ex-ad exec, software something or other, teacher and what have you, she practically lists her resume before stating she found it more lucrative to do porn. Fucking Bravo!!! She was up for awards at the AVN and has become a bit of a celebrity in these parts. The oldest boyo and her son are in the same grade and he keeps me up to date on things, her son being one of the local high school pot dealers due to his mom's connections. Apparently at the start of her new career she basically threw money at her kids while she was jet-setting back and forth to California to do promos and films but her real gig is her web page which promises new content almost daily. Her daughter, who was a singer, a singer with enough talent to score some parts in New York and was invited to sing the National Anthem before a Steelers game, has also gotten into the act. Having seen how much cash her momma was raking in the girl approached her mom and said she might want to get into the business as well... and now she has her own page. 

The level of scandal among the soccer moms when the news first broke practically annihilated the scale... a porn star in our midst? think of the children! more like think of your husbands who are probably all subscribed to her site and wondering what they should say if they happen to bump into her at the local coffeeshop... a few years back, probably right before she made the career move, her kid was trying out for the travel hoops team, he was a right shit basketball player but we parents were standing in the hallway and there was this tall, attractive woman standing there and we just happened to strike up a conversation, turns out we both played college basketball. The I-mac actually remembered walking out and seeing us talking because when her first told me he said, remember that lady you were talking to outside the basketball tryouts? Yeah, i said. She's in porn now. I smiled and said, damn... to bad her kid didn't make the team she could have been my assistant coach, to which we both had a good laugh... and while i at first felt a bit bad for her kids thinking this is going to be rather rough on them, it turns out i was an idiot... they seem to be doing just fine... other than the son getting busted with his stash and a big pile of cash. I'm sure the local boys in blue are well aware of her profession out her in the land of missionary style and are constantly prodded to "keep an eye on that place." Personally i stand and applaud the woman for not giving a fuck and doing what she wanted. I've seen a few interviews where she talks about it being her decision and how she controls what she does and who she does it with. More power to her. 

And then of course there is the flip side to that coin... the self important assholes who are the very essence of shitbag, self righteous, suburbanite. Enter Coach Dickhead. Coach Dickhead's day job is... financial analyst/stockbroker.. he's a Kiwi with a rather fetching better half and i often wonder how an asshole of this magnitude landed such a lovely woman. Coach Dickhead has been the coach of various sports all which he seems to have no fucking clue about, granted i'll give the guy some credit for donating his time, but when you see how joyless and miserable he looks doing it i can't understand why he bothers. If you're going to coach the kids at least make it look like you're having a good time. He used to coach the I-mac in soccer back when he was in elementary school, it was the crap rec. league the I-mac played for fun but the fact is the I-mac doesn't like to lose and his team sucked. The I-mac scored about 90% of his teams goals that year (including 7 in one game for which he was chastised for) and basically set up the other 10%. Coach D would put him at center back to keep him from scoring so the I-mac would win the ball and then dribble through every kid on the small field and score... i would stand on the sideline laughing. Coach Dickhead would be screaming at him. The I-mac didn't care. 

Now it's basketball. He has a daughter a grade below Disaster and sometimes are practices bump into each other or run concurrent. It started last year when he was running over on his practice by a few minutes and my assistant coach politely asked if they were going to be done soon. Dickhead copped an attitude and started saying, "really dude?" like some prick as if because my assistant and i, both the working class type, didn't wear suits to work we were somehow beneath him and felt it his duty to use a vernacular we'd understand. It was bullshit and i wanted to warn Kiwi boy that my assistant is the kind of guy to knock his ass out and worry about it later. Fast forward to this year and a few weeks back we had practice at the same time. There are two gyms right next to each other and while i didn't give a fuck which gym i used as my team lined up to enter he looked at me and said, what are you doing? I politely stated that we were getting ready to practice. He snootily shot back, no you're not, we're in that gym. I explained that i had checked the schedule and i could assure him that his team was not. He kept his haughty attitude up and i finally said that i could show him the schedule if he'd like to which he replied, you do that. He then took his team into the other gym while i pulled the schedule up and then walked over and showed him, he barely glanced at it and muttered a dismissive, 'yeah". 

I was never one to suffer fools when i was younger and can firmly attest that has only gotten worse as i've gotten older. Fuck this guy was my thought and while my merry band of pit bulls loved their coach stating the guy was a dick i was done being polite to this cock. As luck would have it they would be practicing after us our next practice and while my assistant said we should run over i told him we wouldn't, that i would not be the classless dickhead that he was and that i'd be off the floor at the appointed time. As the practice was about to end i could see him and his team waiting in the hallway and i waved him them in, told my team to get off the floor and meet me in the hallway for a quick meeting. He wandered by and said thank you to which he got no reply as i packed up my bag and left. A few days later he saw me at the high school game, it was after the game and i was talking to a few people in the lobby waiting for Disaster and his friend to give them a ride him, i could see him looking over at me a few times out of the corner of my eye and i pretended not to see him. I could see the look on his face as it seemed to have dawned on him that he acted like an ass and i could also see him going home and moaning about me to his wife who probably then told him he acted like an ass. 

(In the raging ego department... his wife never fails to chat me up when we bump into each other and  smiles and waves every time she sees me drive by their house when she's out in the yard doing the gardening she loves so much, having been around the block a few times i know the vibe and i'm quite sure she knows she wouldn't have to ask me twice... i'm also well aware that the successful suburban male breadwinner type has much loathing and is highly suspicious of the stay at home dad, half assed philosopher artists type especially when one's wife has a degree in music... granted i don't think she's about to take me to bed but she doesn't have to... he knows she digs the weirdo and that's enough.) 

At this point there is nothing really left to say to Coach Dickhead and if i ever was forced to have a conversation with him it would be short and not so sweet. The only thing i'd ask is why are you such a miserable prick? i don't need to be his mate and i don't feel the need to even be all that civil any more but i might advise him that he should really try to enjoy life cuz it goes by pretty fast and that walking around being a miserable asshole may not be the best way to go through it... or i might just tell him to fuck off... could go either way. 


Epilogue- As luck would have it Buttermaker's team came out of the holiday in a funk. We barely got by the worst team in the league and then lost our first game in the league to a team we had beaten by 23 points last time we played. That said we're still 7-1 in the league and 10-2 overall. This past weekend was a visit from Shitbag Township and as usual smarmy prick was his usual smiling self before the game. Then of course the game started. There was a play when his kid drove down the lane and Disaster blocked his shot, a clean block in my book but the refs called a foul and while i stated it was clean i didn't see that the player, his kid, had fallen and banged his hand. Mind you this had nothing to do with the play other than the fact the kid was flying and out of control. When i walked out to ask if he was okay smarmy prick started mouthing off which then started things. The kid was fine but smarmy prick felt the need to keep running his mouth. He went back to the bench where he kept saying shit and i finally let him know that, no i didn't think it was a foul and the player was out of control resulting in him falling. He muttered something and i stopped and politely, at least i thought so, asked what he said? He turned away and i said a bit louder, what did you just say? he mumbled nothing and ran to the other end of his bench. Granted we're grown men coaching kids but the street sometimes comes out and as i stood there glaring at him for a good 30 seconds it was obvious who might be shitting themselves and it wasn't me. After the game i had multiple parents come up to me laughing about it and how he scurried away. One mentioned that i could be a rather intimidating guy and i laughed and explained i'm really a cream puff. After beating them smarmy prick once again acted like a dick in the handshake line to which my trusty assistant let him know that if someone needed lessons in how to lose with class they would be taking place in a few weeks when we meet up again. Never a dull moment out here in the burbs... though sometimes i wonder why i ever leave the house. 


looby said...

He he kono, you know how to reel 'em in! :)

savannah said...

Life in the burbs! Guys like you were the best kind of coach my kids had when they played team sports! 4 kids that played soccer, baseball, swimming, and golf! (not all 4 kids at the same time or team which was a helluva lot of fun for me as the driver!!) xoxo