The Games People Play...

...or more specifically, my brother and/or dad and I played.

We played all sorts of things just like any normal children would, but there are a few games that were maybe "different" than what others played and bring back some memories for me.

1) I remember playing hockey in the basement with my Dad and brother. There wasn't a lot of room and we played with a wiffle ball and it was always 2 on 1 and there was never any need for heavy padding. High sticking was never an issue since (a) we were very young and (b) a raised stick would almost certainly be rewarded with a shower of glass from 1 of the 3 bare lightbulbs illuminating our "rink".

2) Hall hockey, for lack of a better term, was a game that my dad and I played while my brother was still too young. We had a long hallway that ran almost the entire length of our house. The playing equipment was minimal. All that was required were two wooden rulers and a checker (wooden). Dad would lay in the living room or kitchen at one end and I would lay down in the bedroom at the other end of the hall. The only thing sticking out into the hallway was your head and arm. It was necessary to have all the doors shut down the hallway. The object, slap the "puck" with your ruler (stick) toward the opposing end in an attempt to get the puck by your opponent and hit the closet door at the end of the hallway. Any contact with the closet door by the puck was considered a goal. I don't know if it was the thrill of the game or the fact that it was just dad and me time or the fact that dad always made grape slush (essentially a homemade icee) after the game but playing this game is one of my earliest memories.

3) From the world of stange and weird make-believe...there was always the hurricane game. This wasn't as much a game as it was "play acting". Shut-up, I was young and at least I didn't have an imaginary friend to play it with. Being out on the farm, it was pretty open space and windy days were REALLY windy! On a beautiful windy fall day, my brother and I would pretend that we were caught up in a hurricane and one of us would get trapped in some horrible predicament and the other one would have to come to the rescue! Luckily we always made it back to some safe haven, just in the nick of time! We had some great made up story lines. I'm sure had Paramount known about them we'd be rich...okay...maybe not but we had fun anyway.

Next: The high school years...

(I may have to break the next post down into parts ... depending on what bits I decide to burden you with. I do however promise that I won't take 7 days to update it again! Thanks for being patient. I'm gonna try to at least get a post in every other day <weekends excluded>.)

The Elementary School Years

I cried. I cried a lot. I'm sure I totally frustrated my mother with my crying. My mother would walk me to the end of the driveway and everyday I would not want to go to school. It wasn't horrible. I made it home each afternoon just fine. School was fine, but as a 5 year old going to kindergarten each day, I couldn't be convinced that it would be okay. I don't remember at what point I stopped crying and "not feeling good" to get out of going to school (not feeling good never worked, just for the record, I had to go anyway ... unless I was really sick ... and apparently my mother could tell which was which).

There really isn't much to tell about school. I was never a cool kid or
sought after by the girls. I was a good kid. Boring I know. There are a few interesting tidbits regarding elementary school. I know you are dying to know, so, here they are.

1) When your mother tells you not to wear your glasses out at recess because they will get broken. She might know what she's talking about. Of course, I didn't think so at the time. As I sat staring at the broken arm of my glasses right after recess, I began to wonder how feasible it would be to tell her I tripped in the classroom walking up to the chalkboard and smacked the side of my head on a desk. Do you think she'll buy it? Not likely? Dang I'm so screwed when I get home!

2) My brother and I have a great relationship. We would kick the crap out of each other on occasion (okay so I was the one who got the worst of those confrontations) but for the most part we got along great. On occasion he would zip into a phonebooth and change into superbrother.
I don't even remember how it happened. I got along with EVERYONE at school. I was not big enough to get into confrontations, nor did I want to. For whatever reason the big smelly bully (yes, I said smelly, he apparently, even at his age, was unaware that bathing at least once a
week would be a good idea.) got into some sort of altercation with me and pushed me down on the pavement in the school yard at recess. What happened next is literally a blur. I was on the ground looking at the sky. I couldn't fight back. I wouldn't have wanted to fight back even if I could. This kid was built. He was big. He was muscular (at least compared to everyone else).
There was a crowd around. What I saw next left the entire crowd, me and Smelly in a complete stupor. A younger kid, who had apparently seen the crowd gathering, noticed who it was that was laying on the ground. Probably without thinking, jumped into action. What I saw from my vantage point was a blur that looked kind of like my brother, moving full speed, ripped through the crowd and with his forward momentum AND a swinging right arm, drove his fist into the mouth of the bully. My brother did NOT stop to see what happened after that. He was not stupid. I will never forget the look on Smelly's face. He honestly had NO idea what hit him. He walked away and didn't bother me again.

3) This next little tidbit didn't happen at school but it was during my elementary school years so I'm relaying it here. Again, as I said before my brother and I had a great relationship. We were playing at our house. My brother, me and one of my best friends who lived not too far down the road. At some point in the games my friend began teasing and picking on my brother. Mostly this wouldn't matter, but at some point, enough is enough. I wonder if me chasing him down the street with a baseball bat and yelling for him to go home while he pedaled his bike as fast as he could was any indication that I was now pissed off and he should leave my brother alone?

4) Elementary school ended with a LARGE accumulation of hockey cards. Kids would play topsies, knocksies, closies, and dropsies. My brother and I never played for keepsies, but we always ended up getting cards somehow from kids that no longer wanted them or had doubles. If #4 left you scratching your head, maybe someday I'll explain it.

To My Brother: We had some great times together and some fond memories. Not a day goes by that I hate living so far away from you! Take care brother, I hope to see you again real soon!

Next: Games We Played...

The Parents and other stuff

We lived in a rural community and by "rural" I mean in the middle of nowhere and by "community" I mean if you could see a house from our house you could technically call them a neighbor.

Our closest neighbor was only a hop, skip and jump away. It's a good thing we liked them and got along just fine. The house nextdoor belonged to my grandparents. The two of them lived there with my grandmothers' sister. If they hadn't been really old people it might have been the cause of some interesting rumors. Their house and our house was built on the same chunk of property, a 113 acre farm. Just for the record, that's one heck of a backyard!

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention...we lived in Southern Ontario. (Just for the record, my parents still live in the same place and although my grandparents have both passed on, my great aunt still lives in their house).

So, what did they do? Well, I'm glad you asked. My dad was a school teacher for many years and long since retired. He taught at the same school that I went to for 13 years and then went to two other schools after that. He changed schools the same time that I would have been in his class. He claims he didn't want to take the chance of having me in his class(es) because he felt he would be harder on me. I think he was ready for a change anyway. It kind of bummed me out because I thought it would be cool to have my dad also be my teacher, but maybe he was right in leaving. I did have him for ONE class though before he left. When I was in the sixth grade art was handled by rotating the class you were in every so many weeks. What that meant was that part of the year you were in the pottery class, then maybe the string art class and the decoupage class etc. Each of these classes was taught by a different teacher. My dad taught the string art class. It also happens to be the ONLY detention I ever got!

Apparently I had forgotten that the class was that day and had left my materials for the class at home. When I got to the class dad asked me where my stuff was and I said I had forgotten it. He obviously didn't see this situation the same as I did. It was my opinion that HE knew the class was that day and should have reminded me to take my stuff. His opinion was that I was old enough to keep track of my own crap and sorry about my luck. Here's a dictionary and a piece of paper and a pen. Start copying! Maybe it IS a good thing he left before I got to the 7th grade :)

My mother was mostly stay at home mom. She had her hands in numerous projects but wasn't OFFICIALLY employed. I think what sticks with me the most was her volunteer work. She ran a 4H club for quite a while and also coached cheerleading at the school. Now, don't misunderstand, I'm not saying that I was excited about the fact that she volunteered, I was excited about WHAT she was doing. The 4H group was all about cooking. There was only a certain type of person that kind of group attracted ... WOMEN!
Okay, I know they were KIDS, but I was enough younger than they were that they might as well have been adults ... after all they were mostly developed!! And, in my opinion, they were ALL hot! It was perfect. They came to MY house for the club meeting. I could sit around and just WATCH them AND I was young enough they oooo'd and ahhhh'd over me! Sweet !!!!
And, like I said if that wasn't enough ... I also got to watch all the good looking girls at cheerleading practice bounce around in their skimpy skirts ... wow, what memories ... for that, mother, I thank you!!!!

To my parents: You have been wonderful, loving and caring people my entire life. For all you have done for me ... I thank you! Words can not say enough how much I care for you and love you!

Next: The Elementary School Years

In The Beginning...

Since this is a blog about me I decided to start at the beginning. It seemed like as good a place as any. I dropped out of my mothers womb, well, more aptly I was pried out, April 20, 1968. I'd like to be able to tell you all about that day but unfortunately I really don't remember.

To make a long story short, almost exactly 2 years and 8 months later my big brother came into the world. Yeah, you read that right, technically I am the oldest and for a long time I was the bigger brother but that wouldn't last forever. For the most part we got along great, we've always been very close, but there were those occasions when things didn't always go well between us that it didn't matter if I was the oldest ... trust me on this ... size DOES matter!

I learned later in life that my best defense was running! You can't beat the stuffin' out of someone if you can't catch 'em! Unfortunately I was always stupid enough to get into these situations in a confined space!

Moving on...

It was explained to my mother at some point in her life that her having any more children was not likely to happen. My parents wanted a daughter. We went to the store and picked one out. It wasn't all shiny and new. The little girl they had decided on was pre-owned. I think the payments were lower and since they didn't get the extended warranty they had to keep her. She was 2 years old when she came into our family. Do you have any idea what it is like driving for 3 hours with a screaming kid in the car? Dairy Queen couldn't even fix the hurt. Eventually though things got better and life went on.

Surprise...

Years later, to the surprise of everyone, my youngest brother was born. Ok, well the surprise was about 9 months prior to his actual birth. It's not like my mother had no idea why she was getting fat and then dropped a kid on the sidewalk or anything. My youngest brother grew up for all intents and purposes, an only child. The rest of the kids had pretty much finished growin' up and movin' out during his impressionable years. Even though we don't see each other much, we are still pretty close. It probably has to do with the fact that personality-wise, he's a lot like me. Plus we are both big contributors to the world of nerdy geekdom.

So there you have it....my siblings in a nutshell.

Next: The Parents