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The sections of these pages prefaced with FICTION are works of FICTION. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The stories shared on the pages of A 60-YEAR-OLD MAN WALKING prefaced with NON-FICTION are to the best of my recollection, true. |
IF YOU CAN STAND UP, WE CAN USE YOU CORPORATION
IYCSUWCUYC became the geographical area’s largest food distributor, distributing products to more than 2,000 locations. The business model wasn’t the inventory—the company isn’t in the business of merchandise—they in the industry of moving it. And, to move it, the company needs a large workforce of, basically, slaves, to work themselves to the bone, performing heavy physical work until their bodies break. The dangling carrot is a raise if you survive the probation period. Few survive.
"Henry, I'm sorry we must let you go, you are not fast enough picking orders. This isn't a good fit for you. NEXT."
"How will I feed my family?"
"Not my concern. Maybe get an office job?"
As if office jobs are something 50-year-old manual labourers with life issues can get.
The tasks working in the distrubution center included: workers racing around the massive complex on 3000-pound electric pallet jacks, picking orders from pick-sheets, shrink wrapping them, dropping the pallets in trucks and then racing back to the center of the complex to grab another pick-sheet. All of this is timed. And the pressure to race is dangerous and unsustainable; serious collisions often happen with exploited workers desperate for dollars, being seriously injured and no longer capable of providing for themselves or their families. This is a harsh reality.
Workers are desperate, so desperate to hold onto their dignity, many of which are at the last chance, station in life, easy to be used up and spit out—anyway, so desperate to meet the nearly impossible pick quotas they skip their breaks. Some even resort to wearing adult diapers to keep picking. The turnover rate for workers is within a pinch of 100% —because the work is so intense, Olympic athletes would have trouble with the pace.
"Tyler, I'm sorry we must let you go, you are not fast enough picking orders. This isn't a good fit for you. NEXT."
"How will I feed my family?"
"Not my concern. Maybe get an office job?"
Taran brought the company a calmness by offering the workers respect in the face of failure, treating them like humans, instead of inconvenient parts of the corporate wheel.
Taran’s main task was to bring in new markets. Taran was stellar at the job—a natural because of T’s maturity and skillset. You see, T, has an uncanny ability to relate with clients and prospects because T possesses a little knowledge about most things without being annoying. Taran has a ravenous appetite for reading, and this serves T, and the company well, in a world that often trips into the mundane.
Building a business, while at the same time encouraging a change in the daunting culture the workers faced, drove Taran to become a better person every day.
Without Taran, the company would carry on, but in reality, a little less…
"Henry, I'm sorry we must let you go, you are not fast enough picking orders. This isn't a good fit for you. NEXT."
"How will I feed my family?"
"Not my concern. Maybe get an office job?"
As if office jobs are something 50-year-old manual labourers with life issues can get.
The tasks working in the distrubution center included: workers racing around the massive complex on 3000-pound electric pallet jacks, picking orders from pick-sheets, shrink wrapping them, dropping the pallets in trucks and then racing back to the center of the complex to grab another pick-sheet. All of this is timed. And the pressure to race is dangerous and unsustainable; serious collisions often happen with exploited workers desperate for dollars, being seriously injured and no longer capable of providing for themselves or their families. This is a harsh reality.
Workers are desperate, so desperate to hold onto their dignity, many of which are at the last chance, station in life, easy to be used up and spit out—anyway, so desperate to meet the nearly impossible pick quotas they skip their breaks. Some even resort to wearing adult diapers to keep picking. The turnover rate for workers is within a pinch of 100% —because the work is so intense, Olympic athletes would have trouble with the pace.
"Tyler, I'm sorry we must let you go, you are not fast enough picking orders. This isn't a good fit for you. NEXT."
"How will I feed my family?"
"Not my concern. Maybe get an office job?"
Taran brought the company a calmness by offering the workers respect in the face of failure, treating them like humans, instead of inconvenient parts of the corporate wheel.
Taran’s main task was to bring in new markets. Taran was stellar at the job—a natural because of T’s maturity and skillset. You see, T, has an uncanny ability to relate with clients and prospects because T possesses a little knowledge about most things without being annoying. Taran has a ravenous appetite for reading, and this serves T, and the company well, in a world that often trips into the mundane.
Building a business, while at the same time encouraging a change in the daunting culture the workers faced, drove Taran to become a better person every day.
Without Taran, the company would carry on, but in reality, a little less…
Taran is freaked out. Taran (T) had given almost fifteen-years of life to a company that prepared T for absolutely nothing. As Taran entered what Taran most certainly earned, Taran's Golden Years—a pandemic rocked the world, stranding T outside of an income.
IYCSUWCUYC saw opportunity—and cutting Taran represented the opportunity. Taran survived the deaths of T's parents—three times. T survived suffering a stroke, being diagnosed with a rare inflammatory disease, several deaths of family members and friends—all with a smile on T's face—after the grief subsided (of course)—because the pain of loss had blessed T with a huge heaping helping of dry, sardonic, wit. NOW. THIS. A PANDEMIC.
With Golden on the horizon, Taran quickly realized, holy crap, if this is it for my career—what’s in store for the future once the money runs dry?
For three weeks, Taran lamented. After week one, the company vehicle was taken away and given to…Taran chose not to articulate T's next thoughts. Anyway, with sadness about to turn into depression, although T realized the daunting road ahead for a person in T's demographic, T started moving, “Kieran, do you think we should go for a walk?”
You see, Taran decided to choose the door on the right in an effort to get out of the way of destiny and let whatever comes next to take its inevitable course.
In the meantime, there would be no gold watch coming. And, the myth of coworkers being family, became nothing more than a ruse.
A decade and a half for what?
IYCSUWCUYC saw opportunity—and cutting Taran represented the opportunity. Taran survived the deaths of T's parents—three times. T survived suffering a stroke, being diagnosed with a rare inflammatory disease, several deaths of family members and friends—all with a smile on T's face—after the grief subsided (of course)—because the pain of loss had blessed T with a huge heaping helping of dry, sardonic, wit. NOW. THIS. A PANDEMIC.
With Golden on the horizon, Taran quickly realized, holy crap, if this is it for my career—what’s in store for the future once the money runs dry?
For three weeks, Taran lamented. After week one, the company vehicle was taken away and given to…Taran chose not to articulate T's next thoughts. Anyway, with sadness about to turn into depression, although T realized the daunting road ahead for a person in T's demographic, T started moving, “Kieran, do you think we should go for a walk?”
You see, Taran decided to choose the door on the right in an effort to get out of the way of destiny and let whatever comes next to take its inevitable course.
In the meantime, there would be no gold watch coming. And, the myth of coworkers being family, became nothing more than a ruse.
A decade and a half for what?
I turned 60 in July (16)
I got laid off because of Covid-19 after a 15-Year Career (March 12)
I'm terrified
I got laid off because of Covid-19 after a 15-Year Career (March 12)
I'm terrified
|ALONE|
Taran came into the world alone as an unwanted child. A family secret discovered by chance. A mystery with one attachment: SHAME.
Little did Taran know, this shame-inducing secret would follow T lockstep for the duration of life, shaping who Taran is and who Taran would eventually become.
Someone who goes by They, says no person is an island. But how could that possibly be true when you start your life in a dark room, in a glass container, alone, instead of in your loving mother’s arms? Loving had most definitely been subtracted from the equation.
For Taran, living would be full of struggle as T traipsed through life, trying desperately to discover who T was supposed to be.
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
Nobody looked.
Not to be deterred, Taran kept searching for an angle of acceptance. Taran began excelling in spurts and bouts.
First school. Secondly athletics. Third socially. And finally, in the work world.
When Taran excelled, Taran looked to family for a supportive pat on the back. No family member was there to accept T's glance. Taran became broken but not beaten.
Wit came to Taran naturally. T brandished it like a sword, assuring survival, comedic chops ensured Taran always, sort of, fit in. Taran resisted belonging.
I wonder why?
Could it have been the darkroom and glass container signifying Taran's beginning?
Work came. Work went. Taran’s parents died, and the family splintered apart.
Taran became an island, alone once more.
Now, after the most prolonged period of stability in Taran’s life, in Taran’s sixties, shame returned. This time not because of the secrecy of Taran’s beginning, but because Taran had been punted to the curb and now was forced to find the strength to reinvent once more.
How?
The pandemic has changed the world. Millions of people have lost their jobs. And if you have the unfortunate reality of being between the ages of say, I don’t know, 45-65, and your career is not returned. WTF are you going to do?
Taran understands this.
Taran is grateful for the love of Kieran.
Kieran is decades younger and facing the daunting harshness of being punted to the curb as well.
They walk and walk and walk. Walking has had incredible health benefits for the two of them. But there is one thing it can’t provide: an income to sustain a living—a harsh reality.
Occasionally, Taran’s mind becomes plagued with negative thoughts. Sleepless nights have arrived. When negative enters Taran’s views, all Taran can think of is sarcoidosis, no family, stroke, blah, blah, blah, storylines when shared, would most certainly return the storyteller to solitude once more.
They walk, and they walk, and they walk.
Taran’s mind becomes diseased. Taran often trips into it might be better to be alone. Taran is petrified of no longer being able to provide for Taran, let alone Kieran.
Don’t worry. A less than desirable start to life instilled a never quit attitude deep into Taran’s psyche. Regardless of the odds.
You see, Taran has been gifted with an understanding that no matter what is dished your way—never quit.
Taran wasn’t born with a silver spoon in the mouth. No cutlery made from precious metals was anywhere present. This gifted Taran with compassion and empathy. Something IYCSUWCUYC's only acts of charity are used for manipulation and with a single goal: MONEY.
As much as Taran’s life filled to the brim with challenges with loneliness part of the menu—life gifted Taran with an understanding life is infinitely better when shared.
No matter what is thrown Taran’s way, Kieran is a godsend that needs to be coddled.
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
Taran is not the only one in this demographic to be ravaged by the uncertain future of starting anew during the pandemic, and perhaps, navigating past unscrupulously greedy organizations. Nevertheless, T has been blessed with a powerful voice, and sure as hell as the sun rises every day, it is T's responsibility to speak up for those shackled by the nearly impossible task of reinventing themselves at this later stage in life.
Could you imagine?
Millions upon millions of people have lost their jobs, and if you hadn’t reached the end of your work life, millions and millions and millions of people would surely be fighting for the scraps left behind.
Little did Taran know, this shame-inducing secret would follow T lockstep for the duration of life, shaping who Taran is and who Taran would eventually become.
Someone who goes by They, says no person is an island. But how could that possibly be true when you start your life in a dark room, in a glass container, alone, instead of in your loving mother’s arms? Loving had most definitely been subtracted from the equation.
For Taran, living would be full of struggle as T traipsed through life, trying desperately to discover who T was supposed to be.
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
Nobody looked.
Not to be deterred, Taran kept searching for an angle of acceptance. Taran began excelling in spurts and bouts.
First school. Secondly athletics. Third socially. And finally, in the work world.
When Taran excelled, Taran looked to family for a supportive pat on the back. No family member was there to accept T's glance. Taran became broken but not beaten.
Wit came to Taran naturally. T brandished it like a sword, assuring survival, comedic chops ensured Taran always, sort of, fit in. Taran resisted belonging.
I wonder why?
Could it have been the darkroom and glass container signifying Taran's beginning?
Work came. Work went. Taran’s parents died, and the family splintered apart.
Taran became an island, alone once more.
Now, after the most prolonged period of stability in Taran’s life, in Taran’s sixties, shame returned. This time not because of the secrecy of Taran’s beginning, but because Taran had been punted to the curb and now was forced to find the strength to reinvent once more.
How?
The pandemic has changed the world. Millions of people have lost their jobs. And if you have the unfortunate reality of being between the ages of say, I don’t know, 45-65, and your career is not returned. WTF are you going to do?
Taran understands this.
Taran is grateful for the love of Kieran.
Kieran is decades younger and facing the daunting harshness of being punted to the curb as well.
They walk and walk and walk. Walking has had incredible health benefits for the two of them. But there is one thing it can’t provide: an income to sustain a living—a harsh reality.
Occasionally, Taran’s mind becomes plagued with negative thoughts. Sleepless nights have arrived. When negative enters Taran’s views, all Taran can think of is sarcoidosis, no family, stroke, blah, blah, blah, storylines when shared, would most certainly return the storyteller to solitude once more.
They walk, and they walk, and they walk.
Taran’s mind becomes diseased. Taran often trips into it might be better to be alone. Taran is petrified of no longer being able to provide for Taran, let alone Kieran.
Don’t worry. A less than desirable start to life instilled a never quit attitude deep into Taran’s psyche. Regardless of the odds.
You see, Taran has been gifted with an understanding that no matter what is dished your way—never quit.
Taran wasn’t born with a silver spoon in the mouth. No cutlery made from precious metals was anywhere present. This gifted Taran with compassion and empathy. Something IYCSUWCUYC's only acts of charity are used for manipulation and with a single goal: MONEY.
As much as Taran’s life filled to the brim with challenges with loneliness part of the menu—life gifted Taran with an understanding life is infinitely better when shared.
No matter what is thrown Taran’s way, Kieran is a godsend that needs to be coddled.
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
LOOK AT ME
Taran is not the only one in this demographic to be ravaged by the uncertain future of starting anew during the pandemic, and perhaps, navigating past unscrupulously greedy organizations. Nevertheless, T has been blessed with a powerful voice, and sure as hell as the sun rises every day, it is T's responsibility to speak up for those shackled by the nearly impossible task of reinventing themselves at this later stage in life.
Could you imagine?
Millions upon millions of people have lost their jobs, and if you hadn’t reached the end of your work life, millions and millions and millions of people would surely be fighting for the scraps left behind.
INTERVIEWER
Where do you see yourself in five years?
CANDIDATE
I don’t understand the question. I’m in my sixties.
Where do you see yourself in five years?
CANDIDATE
I don’t understand the question. I’m in my sixties.
Taran is a storyteller. Taran is confident this is a story that needs to be shared.
And besides, Taran wants everyone facing similar daunting realities to know, you are not alone, and as much as this is worth:, if you have someone by your side, don’t be afraid to lean.
It may get tougher before the sun sufficiently rises again, but there is also excitement, Taran—in T's sixties, gets to determine who to become!
And, most important, money is not the only thing defining Taran.
Could you imagine the emptiness in money being the only thing that matters?
Is that not the true definition of alone?
And besides, Taran wants everyone facing similar daunting realities to know, you are not alone, and as much as this is worth:, if you have someone by your side, don’t be afraid to lean.
It may get tougher before the sun sufficiently rises again, but there is also excitement, Taran—in T's sixties, gets to determine who to become!
And, most important, money is not the only thing defining Taran.
Could you imagine the emptiness in money being the only thing that matters?
Is that not the true definition of alone?
|ANGER|
"Taran, why are you always so angry?"
"Sweetie, you know that's not true. I'm a calm person. I don't even suffer from road rage. How could I? After the mess of family, little rattles me."
But Taran was rattled. How could it be possible not to be?
Taran faced many perils throughout life. Being an unwanted child eventually set a string of traumas into motion, each one slicing deeply into T's resolve.
Unwanted led to lifelong questions of belonging led to an unquenchable thirst for attention led to bursts of success efforting to be noticed—and when attention wasn't showered on Taran—repeated failures.
You see, Taran became an outstanding athlete, excelled in the work world—even landing a gig as an Opinion Editorialist with a significant paper without ever setting foot in journalism school. When Taran's eyes sparked open, life unfurled in all it's damaged glory, often manifesting itself in absurdity and laughter.
IYCSTUWCUYC was to be different. IYCSTUWCUYC became Taran's home.
Taran masks anger in sarcasm, often brushing it aside because much like being an unwanted child instilled "it was the times" in T, IYCSTUWCUYC's shoddy treatment of T was swept under the carpet as "it's just the way it is" —another failure in T's mind.
Taran needs to be angry. Taran gave nearly fifteen-years to a company that exploited T from the get-go, much like it showed marginalized workers the door when their bodies broke down from the unrelenting hardships of working in an often-heavy labour industry.
"Look, Charles, I know you have issues, and you need money, but this work is no longer for you, we can't employ you anymore. Perhaps, you should look for an office job."
The thing is, Charles is fifty-eight, he's broken, he needs money desperately, no office jobs are waiting for him, especially when IYCSTUWCUYC is the last hope for many lost soul's life has beaten down with a heavy bat. And besides, when Charles is being ushered to the door by a man who is only forty, a man who grew up with boats and Mercedes, the compassion required to gently move Charles along, reeks in insincerity. Defeated, Charles exits into the unknown, whereas |George Clooney|—immediately goes online looking for a new boat.
You'd think, Taran's ire would grow from being tasked with the same duties as coworkers but being remunerated tens-of-thousands-dollars less. But it didn't, Taran looked the other way because the job was desperately needed and much like Charles, Taran resided perilously close to the fringes—ripe to be used--IYCSTUWCUYC business model.
One would think anger would bubble to the surface when Taran asked to be treated fairly and paid adequately, and Hector, the owner, said, "If you want a raise, why don't you go on welfare."
But it didn't. Taran needed the work and feared being let go--if T's voice rang too loudly.
And then the pandemic hits. And despite at times being responsible for upwards of 80% of IYCSTUWCUYC'S--revenues—monies accountable for paying everyone up, and down, the pyramid—Taran was put on hold because Taran mentioned concern—because underlying conditions had placed Taran in a dangerous category for survival.
Things haven't changed for Taran—T still needed the income—T doesn't want to live in the same world as Charles—but at this point in time, IYCSTUWCUYC was done exploiting, and the door arrived in the form of spineless phone calls.
"Taran, we are going to do you a favour to make things easy for you, we'll put your one-week holiday pay on your next cheque."
CANNED UNDER THE GUISE OF A LAYOFF.
"Sweetie, you know that's not true. I'm a calm person. I don't even suffer from road rage. How could I? After the mess of family, little rattles me."
But Taran was rattled. How could it be possible not to be?
Taran faced many perils throughout life. Being an unwanted child eventually set a string of traumas into motion, each one slicing deeply into T's resolve.
Unwanted led to lifelong questions of belonging led to an unquenchable thirst for attention led to bursts of success efforting to be noticed—and when attention wasn't showered on Taran—repeated failures.
You see, Taran became an outstanding athlete, excelled in the work world—even landing a gig as an Opinion Editorialist with a significant paper without ever setting foot in journalism school. When Taran's eyes sparked open, life unfurled in all it's damaged glory, often manifesting itself in absurdity and laughter.
IYCSTUWCUYC was to be different. IYCSTUWCUYC became Taran's home.
Taran masks anger in sarcasm, often brushing it aside because much like being an unwanted child instilled "it was the times" in T, IYCSTUWCUYC's shoddy treatment of T was swept under the carpet as "it's just the way it is" —another failure in T's mind.
Taran needs to be angry. Taran gave nearly fifteen-years to a company that exploited T from the get-go, much like it showed marginalized workers the door when their bodies broke down from the unrelenting hardships of working in an often-heavy labour industry.
"Look, Charles, I know you have issues, and you need money, but this work is no longer for you, we can't employ you anymore. Perhaps, you should look for an office job."
The thing is, Charles is fifty-eight, he's broken, he needs money desperately, no office jobs are waiting for him, especially when IYCSTUWCUYC is the last hope for many lost soul's life has beaten down with a heavy bat. And besides, when Charles is being ushered to the door by a man who is only forty, a man who grew up with boats and Mercedes, the compassion required to gently move Charles along, reeks in insincerity. Defeated, Charles exits into the unknown, whereas |George Clooney|—immediately goes online looking for a new boat.
You'd think, Taran's ire would grow from being tasked with the same duties as coworkers but being remunerated tens-of-thousands-dollars less. But it didn't, Taran looked the other way because the job was desperately needed and much like Charles, Taran resided perilously close to the fringes—ripe to be used--IYCSTUWCUYC business model.
One would think anger would bubble to the surface when Taran asked to be treated fairly and paid adequately, and Hector, the owner, said, "If you want a raise, why don't you go on welfare."
But it didn't. Taran needed the work and feared being let go--if T's voice rang too loudly.
And then the pandemic hits. And despite at times being responsible for upwards of 80% of IYCSTUWCUYC'S--revenues—monies accountable for paying everyone up, and down, the pyramid—Taran was put on hold because Taran mentioned concern—because underlying conditions had placed Taran in a dangerous category for survival.
Things haven't changed for Taran—T still needed the income—T doesn't want to live in the same world as Charles—but at this point in time, IYCSTUWCUYC was done exploiting, and the door arrived in the form of spineless phone calls.
"Taran, we are going to do you a favour to make things easy for you, we'll put your one-week holiday pay on your next cheque."
CANNED UNDER THE GUISE OF A LAYOFF.
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The creator of fictitious Taran has been informed some of the fictitious characters portrayed in this work of fiction, are upset by how real Taran has made them. Therefore; Taran has chosen to put part of the story on hold. Before doing so, fictitious Taran would like to make it perfectly clear: Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The creator of fictitious Taran would like to ontinue. |
"Taran, you know what scares me the most—despite everything dished your way, you always seem so calm—what scares me is the day whatever is bubbling under the surface bursts, I hope I'm not anywhere near to become collateral. That's what scares me the most."
"Sweetie, don't worry, I will always remain calm."
"Sweetie, don't worry, I will always remain calm."
For 3-weeks, I barely moved.
One day I only walked 9 steps
I ballooned to 206 pounds.
One day I only walked 9 steps
I ballooned to 206 pounds.
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WTF, does the future hold?
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Here’s what happened.
