In the Ghetto

Yesterday I finally reached my savings goal and I have the down payment on the house I want. This is especially exciting to me. Everyone has a sob story and I am no exception. I have worked hard and overcome many mistakes I made to be where I am. That is living with my wife and four kids in the ghetto. When I say ghetto I actually mean the section of the suburbs littered with grassless lawns and drunks. A police visit to my street is usually a three of four times a week event. I have done my best to protect my kids there. Nick Jr. has had his bike stolen five times in the last four years. The kids used to wonder why they weren’t allowed to play with their neighbors. Now that my oldest is reaching Jr. High and her classmates from our neighborhood are starting to smoke and go to juvenile detention she is beginning to see the wisdom in that decision.
Then I come home to find out some dickless piece of shit totaled my van. He was from the ever-present crowd of teenage boys who sit three houses down from my house, in their front yard around a Webber grill. This mother fucker is sitting in jail with no license or insurance and no way to even think about paying for the damage he cost. I’ve got a way to pay for it but I was really looking forward to getting the house.

It’s ironic and frustrating.

Fuck everything and everyone in the world

I quote Michael Jackson from “The Wiz” soundtrack
~ “You can’t win; you can’t get even; and you can’t get out of the game.”