Category Archives: It’s in the vault

Eh?, It's in the vault, Me Myself and Ty, Sports

I’m not good at pool, Eh?

We had just been herded inside from the patio and out of the crisp Toronto air. We crowded into the bar and lounge area, all of us forced to carry our conversations, spoken in half a dozen different languages, inside where a billiard table stood, taking up valuable standing and drinking room.

I was in a frenzy at this point, spinning in two different directions like a planet on two axes. Beers were only $4. They were delicious, but therein lied the problem: too many of them were sitting around unattended. There is a rule about alcohol within my circle of friends – it should never be wasted. I don’t think I’ll ever consider myself to be too old to finish off empties and actually approach the job with a point of pride – I feel like I’m the best at it.

After I had palmed two Canadian pints I hadn’t myself paid for, Kelly asked who was going to play pool with her. Deep down I knew it was me who would play her, as if the dice had already been cast and my number had come up. It was quite evident to me that no one else wanted to play, but she would be insatiable. Sometimes those things are just apparent.

Plus I knew it was time to lose again. Continue reading →

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It's in the vault, Journalism, Me Myself and Ty

It’s in the vault: The Dec. 23 Incident

As far as “It’s in the vault” stories go, I feel like this was an instant classic. Enjoy.

BOOM.

I’m outside Gary’s apartment and it’s cold. There’s vomit on the ground beneath the light pole and I’m stumbling toward the door.

In the moment, I can’t help but think I’m in a dream. I channel Inception and realize I can’t remember how I got to where I am now, but I’m too cold for it to be a dream. It feels too real. Continue reading →

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It's in the vault, Me Myself and Ty

It’s in the vault: Academic fraud

In yet another example of me stealing ideas from one of my favorite blogs (Though I would prefer mine evoke Seinfeld imagery), here’s a poem that I found in the front of a notebook from my senior year of high school. I would date it March 2006.

Visitors to the “About” portion of this blog may have noticed a comment (two actually) from one of my favorite teachers ever, Mrs. Green.

In it, she mentions that she has a Ty Johnson original work about a student-teacher. Well, I found it in its original, pencil-print form:

A textbook tool of the queerest sort,
Phony past a fault and stubborn more.
You are impressed by all and know nothing,
Of knowledge or self, Agree with everyone.
Your anxiety shows your ignorance fully and leaves,
no indications of knowledge beyond sense
to breathe, and speak. Speak not so I may
imagine you gone to the diamond, Come
back cynicism! For I long to be
challenged again, He murders
poetry! and dances in the ruins of art,
with a sterile mind.

The student-teacher in question was a baseball player, hence the diamond reference. Mrs. Green was always very cynical, hence her being homaged by cynicism itself.

I have nothing else to say except that reading this poem today caused me to laugh hysterically and run to the computer to transcribe it and share it with you.

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