No Magic This Year

This Saturday will be the first year in which I don’t do the Haunted Hay Ride.  For 28 years it was a magical time of year for me and my family and it hurts to not do it.  

Lit pumpkins will line the street.  The town shuts off the two streetlights in front of my house to highlight my display of jumping black and strobe lit ghosts (trampolene plus white sheets), the graveyard scene, the fog machines, the chain saw massacre guy and me playing with 50 thousands volts of home built tesla coil, waving Jedi light sabers (flourescent light tubes).  Our local farmer who donates the hay ride wagons will be dissapointed.  I hate to let him down especially.

But why would I not do something I love doing, have acquired and entire attic room full of equipment over the years for it.  Why?  I’m not feeling the same community love this year.

The fire department in my case did come.  They did put out the fire and they did call the building inspector who then put me out of business.  No matter that I provided below subsidized rents for 28 years the common areas are not firecode.  Ya, that’s right you don’t have the right to live in a older building.

So we are busy trying to get ready to market the house to a builder who might fix it.  I’m done.  They can make yuppie asshole condos out of it for all I care.  It pains me to leave my lifelong community but the fascism of constantly in your face trivial small people has done me in.

I can’t be allowed to have an uninsured trampolene (actually 2 of them), an above ground pool without a fence around it or apartments that are functional but merely old.  I shall not mess up the neighbor’s lamestream media with my homemade tesla coil.  Gees, I guess it’s a good thing my rottweiler died four years ago lest they cancel my homeowners insurance.

My four year old grandson who spent many summer days with Grampy in the pool making waves for him, diving off the deck and then ending the evening with family cookouts crushed my heart.  Why, Grampy, why did you take the pool down.

We have to move to a new place I told him.  We will get another pool cause this one is “too old” and Grampy can’t fix it.  He knows Grampy can fix anything.  Grampy however can’t fix fucked up people who demand compliance over common sense, fun and just plain real living.