Toothless Wander

A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to your steps as you walk the tightrope of life. - William Arthur Ward

(I wrote this last night in my writing class so the time-frame is off by a day)

I am feeling a little off-center. I seem to have misplaced my comfort zone. I received my new teeth yesterday. I find myself wondering "whose mouth am I wearing?" Immediately upon leaving the dentists a good friend of mine took me out for breakfast at a near-by greasy spoon. I hadn't had a good "breakfast special" in a while so I was really looking forward to it. But the new mouth made enjoying the meal very difficult. Speaking was as difficult as chewing. I really wanted to take them out but I need to get used to them and chewing my food was a big reason for getting them - besides I paid good money for 'em so they are staying in! But it was awkward and uncomfortable and not at all as enjoyable as a nice greasy breakfast should be. The rest of the day was a real struggle to not just pull them out, but leave them in I did. Bedtime was a relief as I finally took them out as per the doctor's instructions (Ya I know he's a dentist but I love him and he's Doc to me).

The next morning I awoke refreshed and got up and 'em nice and early for a change. I bought my own breakfast at a local cafeteria (extremely inexpensive) and while I'm eating my giant fried egg and bacon sandwich I think to myself "this would be so much easier if I had front teeth." Wait a minute, I do have front teeth ! Doh! Of course I fail to fully appreciate the comfort of my old mouth because I am missing the ability to bite off only a piece of bacon instead of pulling out entire strips. Looks like a change in plans, I really should get those teeth I worked so hard for. Since I'm going in that general direction I decide to make a slight detour and pop by a friend's place to do a bit of blind-folded chi sao (a sort of sparring used in Wing Chun Kuen - a Chinese Martial Art). I figure I wouldn't leave my teeth in anyways so I will get them afterwards. Just before I get there I notice lots of police cars and lots of police tape. And lots of blood. And what looks like a body under a sheet. Despite being perhaps North America's most notorious neighbourhood, that type of scene is really not that common in the DTES (Vancouver's Downtown Eastside). Our notoriety is based on the amount of addiction and drug-use, not the violence so much. Not that it is that rare, but still, I hadn't seen that much blood in a few years. Murders are pretty rare down here. Beatings, not so much. I do my best to put it out of my mind and proceed to my friends where we try out best to punch each other out. Nobody gets badly hurt so it was a successful session.

So now it's time to head home and grab my teeth before heading out to UBC for school. A couple blocks from my friends place, about half way home, I see more police cars and more tape. And what is very definitely a body (I can see bare feet sticking out) under a bloody blanket. He is in the middle of the street. The other onlookers say he jumped. He sure went far, I am not even sure what building he could have jumped from. I notice the wires next to the shorter building and realize not that one so that means he came from one of the million dollar condos. Which gives me some relief since I definitely don't know him. The other side is low-income housing and I do know people there.

more tape...

That's his foot on the left, the blanket is white and doesn't show up. The stains do.

Update:    Women charged in near-fatal stabbing in Downtown Eastside  - it looks like i was mistaken when i thought I saw a body. I didn't really look to closely, and everyone was moving rather slow so I just assumed. Very glad I was wrong. One of the girls in my writing class is very good friends with him and says he was a very talented carver. In fact everybody called him "Carver" because he always had piece of wood in his hands that he was working on. He had been struggling with alcohol and drug issues, but was a decent fellow who didn't hustle or screw people over. My prayers go out to him.

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-- Sent from my palm Pre