Come out and see Jason Beaudoin from Vancouver perform the piece below on Saturday, June 12th at MCA, Abbotsford. Part of the Festival of Artistic and Creative Expression, 9 PM
Breadlines was one of Gwynne Hunt’s first plays . ..people line up at a soup kitchen waiting to get in and eat . . . (1990) it all began with Breadlines.
Chris (from Breadlines)
I’m not like the rest of them. I don’t belong here, man I don’t belong anywhere. I’ve been living on the streets for a year now-sometimes I get lucky and get into a shelter for the night but most nights you find me under the bridge, cranking up. There’s a few of us that hang together but don’t you turn your back. Sometimes I wish I could just go home-my folks got a big fancy house up on the hills. My folks won’t let me come home, not after the last time . . . I needed some coke so after they went to sleep I stole the VCR . . . I mean shit, they’ve got four of the damn things. I blew it man. I’m a smart guy . . . I don’t mean a wise ass, I mean a really smart guy, shit I was on the honour role all through high school-I was valedictorian . . . nobody even knew I was on acid. Lately, I’ve been getting these sores all over my body-I don’t know what they are. I’ve probably got AIDS-I don’t care to find out, might just be scabies too—the foamy I’ve been sleeping on has been around as much as Shiloh, poor kid. She’s going to die out here-I told her that but she gives jack shit about living, just like me. I started out dabbling in coke, acid, angel dust . . . whatever. The booze was pretty bad for a while . . . couple of years where I don’t think I drew sober breath. That’s when my old man kicked me out . . . cut off my college allowance and said hit the road man. I had student loans but shit I couldn’t make it to class . . . I was drunk, or stoned every moment I was awake . . . it wasn’t just me man, my girlfriend blowing it up her nose, my friends, my sister, my cousins, shit-
I’ve never had friends who were sober. The last couple of years I’ve just hit bottom man-I steal whatever I can so I can buy crack, life is shit, I’d end it but my buddy did that . . . walked off the fuckin’ Granville Street Bridge. I don’t want to die that way.
Fuck I must have been in the graduating class of death-1992 . . . I’ve had 10 or 12 friends die since we left highschool man . . . a couple had leukemia, 3 or 4 in car accidents, most to drugs . . . yeah, most to drugs. One of them was even shot and dumped in a shallow grave . . . that always make me laugh, as if a grave could be profound—my girlfriend was shallow. I’ve never had any friends, not real friends, except Jeff and he took a nose-dive off the bridge. Where the hell was I that I couldn’t save him? Stoned. Shit, I’d end it if I thought I was going to a better place. Now this harmonica is my only friend. (holds up harmonica) Man, there are times when I wish I was 3 again and I could just like play with my cars and get hugs from my mom-my mom wouldn’t even spit on me now and I don’t blame her ya’ know-stealing from her and I hit her that once. My old man almost put me in the hospital over that one. When Jeff walked off the bridge I wonder if he felt like he was flying one last time. Man I miss him. I wonder if I walked off the bridge if he would be there to catch me. Man just to feel someone’s arms around me one more time would be worth dying for—that’s the hardest part about this shitty rat hole life I’m living in-no human touch, no hugs from my mom. . . shit, if I thought I was going to a better place I’d end it right now, today. Yeah, just to feel someone’s arms around me one more time would be worth dying for.