Coto De Caza

Before we moved to Coto De Caza, the last Forth of July parade we had was awesome. We got a ribbon for me dressing up as Rambo and wearing a sign on my back that said "Lets get them chicken Shites" regarding the Shi'te in Iran. I had a cork gun rifle that would make loud popping noises. It was rather fun to have people talking about you because they very much approved the message that was my dads.
I couldn't understand why the move to Coto De Caza. I knew I was going to hate the move and while living in a large posh house with lots of room was nice. The isolation I learned was deafening. The kids in the area were very snobby, and my sisters friends tended to be very much so. Becky became more and more twisted, and I learned to stay away from her. My brother not so much, for he would play plastic horses with her and end up with black eyes. I remember spending my time mucking the stalls and pastures, buying transformer toys with them, surrounding myself with a mecho/anime environment to escape the prison of reality. The life mom promises us upon my grandfather passing away, was far from realistic. My parents fought more and more, as the money didn't make any of us happy. To this day my mom still thinks the money makes her happy. But It has caused a rift with everyone. I to this day believe I could have as much money as Bill Gates and it wouldn't change me much. I don't need a limo or a Rolls Royce. Matter of fact the house I'm in is just find, however I do wish we had a bigger driveway only because parking on this street is limited to one side. As far as money I only wish for as much as I'd need to pay off all my debt, the house, the new truck, and what other bills may linger. Nothing I owe is dilinquent and I'm greatful for that. But it seemed like money continualy came into play in Coto. My parents rubbing elbo's with mucky mucks, yuppies, and pretenders. Having us associate with the Macks whom I despised! I learned to just hide in my room, avoiding my parents for shit always ran down hill, and I was always at the end of the ball of crap. Listening to my music which I finally as a late bloomer really took a liking to. I would listen to my music mainly depeche mode, billy Idol, Oingo Boingo, Tears for Fear and anything like that while reading. All I ever seemed to do at the time was read. Surviving middle school was a challenge, as I was pretty much the bottom of the food chain, till I got removed from public school. It was like people were waiting in line to beat me up. I practically ran from class to class, and one time. I ended up pissing all over some bully because he cornered me in the bathroom to beat me up. It was hysterical had you of seen it because I zipped up after pissing all over him. He ran after me just to stop short because when I ran by, everyone turned around to look and see this guy with his pants soaked with my piss. They thought he pissed his pants!
After one fight I wasn't able to run from, I got popped in the nose right infront of a teacher or some authoritive adult. The lady must of been out of her mind, trying to get us to quit it when I showed her I had a bloody nose. Instead of him getting in trouble by himself, I had to serve some kind of detention to, and my father wasn't having it. They were going to have me go to a private school. This wasn't necessarily keeping me from bullies though. It minimized it for sure. And the bullies here were pretty much the rulers of the bus. They listened to what they wanted, and them and the bus driver kind of had an unspoken agreement. The bus driver was Jewish, and he and his wife ran the school. Their son went to school with us one year. But we all hated the wife. I didn't know much about Jewish people, but she kind of made us dislike them. When it came to issues of fighting. It didn't matter what the facts were. Charlene made up her own mind, and generally she sided with the person who'm she either spoke with first, who'm she liked better, or who was Jewish. We discovered the teachers made better principles than this principle. One thing that saved me a lot of grief was my brother Darrens taste in music. All of a sudden I was cool with the guys on the bus just because the only music I listened to that didn't suck was Nazereth. Heck I had Blondie which was ok, but Shanana, pac man fever, Donna Summers. Anyways Andie kept the other big kids from messing with me. He took me under his wing, but it was sad when he wasn't there anymore. His mom put him in rehab for smoking marijuana. So the next year was tough. From then on Jan Snook was responsible for driving us to school. She was able to afford taking David to school there by being the bus driver, well. Her small blue car that was packed with herself, David, Preston, my brother John, and myself. If it was just David and I that would of been cool. David is my best friend, and he's black adopted by white Christian parents. David would listen to his music, sit in the front seat and mind his own business. But he had a anger problem, you didn't want to piss David off. He once popped my brother in the mouth because John pushed his buttons and I couldn't blame him. I think what happened is something made my brother scream, and David felt that blood curdling scream my brother does so well rattle in his ear drum. It was like it was right in his ear, and all of ours as well. David pulled his punch because he tried to resist doing it to begin with. I can't blame David too much because there was many times I wanted to murder my brother. He was slow, and John had the rainman kind of reaction to somethings. If his mind contrued he was being threatened, he would either scream, run away, or fart like a skunk! And when he wasn't doing that he was either running his mouth babbling, or puking! And being in a tiny car like that with John and whom we called puking Preston was a nightmare. They often got car sick, and it was as if they could puke on call!
I have to say going to school with David was the only thing that kept me from taking my own life. David and I were always busting up, capping on people. We just had a lot in common. We've been friends for over 20 years now.
After middle school, 9th grade was a breeze. The 9th grade was the highest grade at this school and everyone there was really nice and cool. The only grief I was given was a little ribbing by John, I don't remember his name. But he was a big guy, and a real dork. We all knew he could kick any of our asses so we just took his awnryness with a grain of salt. But he'd do the same shit like taking my deodarant out of my desk and rub it all over the desks. The teacher Mr. Gay never seemed to see anything except to question what I was doing when I was trying to get my deodarant back from John. The carpool thing sucked because Shawn Mack and his sister Jamie was with us. They were both brats and I despised them both. Shawn always running his mouth how cool he was, when his parents were wanna be yuppies. His parents both worked at the Trabuco Oaks steakhouse and they thought they were gonna be the shit when they inherited it. Turns out who's ever mother it was sold it. Mr Mack ended up working at a junk yard using a bulldozer, and he'd take trash home when he figured it still worked. I was ok with people at this school, but the only friend I made there with lasting ties was with Jason McInturf.
After this school year, my parents sent me to Monte Vista Christian Boarding School.
I'll cover this part later.