So since I have run out currently of blog topics I guess I can tell you a bit about me. How I ended up having this blog and maybe where some of my ideas come from.....
I was born on the Bayou, no that's a lie. I was born in a brier patch! Also another lie, I might use the name Br'er rabbit on twitter but it is only because I like his stories, it would be cool though, I would love to see the South.
Shit I was cute!
I was born in Edmonton. 1981, June. So yes I am currently 36. I didn't live in Edmonton or at least I didn't grow up here. I was born in the U of A hospital 4 lbs, 12 oz. I assume that is small, as I did spend a bit of time there. Truth is my mom was a teen mom. Not a trash bag hoe like the ones they make famous on MTV. Looking at you Farrah! Anyways, I have no idea but I don't think that was easy back then, I mean it aint now. So for the first couple years of my life we lived with my grandparents. I am still very close to them. Now in my mind I had a pretty good, normal childhood. I never went without, the flip side we never were rich.Random though, I did have the first Nintendo of all the kids I knew. Only cause we were in the States and mom found one for me. So that seems pretty rich to a little kid! Also mom you created the video game monster! I guess I spoke early and have never shut up since or so I have been told.
By my recollecting I had a great childhood. I actually have a large family, though I very RARELY see any of them anymore. I remember seeing my cousins a bunch and liking them except when they slobbered on my toys. Like a normal kid I spent time with the neighborhood kids doing average Canadian stuff. Playing street hockey, riding bikes, going to the shell for slurrpies in the summer and so on.... Oh this was all in Grande Prairie, I think I missed that part. Anyway I love my home town. Gets under my skin sometimes when people here put it down. I freely admit it aint the nicest place. And maybe not the most progressive BUT it is full of good hard working normal people. It some what makes me laugh when people like Rebel Sheila says people are jealous of oil money. The people reply they don't deserve it. I have to disagree, people in GP work long hard hours that a lot of us can't even actually understand. Sure it isn't the same place since I left (That came out wrong lol and arrogant) What I mean is it has doubled in size!
I have to put it out there. I had an aunt, who did a crap ton for me. And I find out more randomly. But Glo was a great woman, I gotta put it out there. When I was young she was my babysitter, until she passed away she made sure to call me on my birthday up till I was 30 years old. Her husband bought me my first cowboy boots. Frick they are small! I can never repay all the good shit that lady did.
I was for many years an only child. Wanna know what that means. you get bored and you need to entertain yourself. I did this in 2 ways. First I read, everything. More than I should. See granny owned a second hand books store. She let me read stuff beyond maybe what I should. Like true crime at a young age. Plus I had comics and regular kids books like the Hardy Boys and stuff like that. Second thing to entertain myself was GI Joe. I played with them for hours! They went on all kinds of adventures. I always loved camping and fishing. Plus I was lucky. First we always went for a summer holiday. Usually into southern BC to go camping and fishing but on top of that grandma and grandpa were young enough they also took me for a week or two. Summers were great.
There isnt a ton in my life I regret. Yes there is some, I am sure every person has some but one I have from my childhood is my great grandpas tackle box. It was one of those big old Plano ones. And it was full to the nuts! He loved fishing. After he passed, I think I was 10 or 11. It went into a garage sale for $70. I think someone said they would buy it for me but for some reason I said no! Now I know a good box now is $70 empty, minimum. So think if it was full! I still wouldn't have needed to buy hooks 25 years later. Also I am one of the lucky ones. Not everyone gets to know there great grandparents let alone grandparents well. I did, grandpa was a grandpa at 39.... I am 36 now and don't even have a kid! I got to know my great grandparents. travel with them, to Arizona and even stay with them....
Life fact one, we teach hate, racism, homophobia and all that jazz. Kids in a playground will sit and play with any kid unless their parents have told them other wise
My mom was for the most part a single parent. For some kids this can be a bad thing, maybe not enough time and attention if they have to work more to pay for everything. Mom gave me all she could, so that meant she did work some evenings and weekends. SO I spent a lot of time at my grandparents growing up. I to this day am still very close with them. They took me camping in summers. Had hockey nets so I could play in the winters. I had a room there, clothes and everything. Their house has always been a second home. I was 17 and had friends over one night when they came home from camping unannounced. I got in shit just like it was a parents house! I don't talk to them as often as I should.... Also mom has a brother, that means I have an uncle. There is the same age difference, actually less between him and I and me and my brothers. He was very much a brother to me. He was the one who taught me how to shave. Along with doing brotherly things like convincing me to eat beef jerky that turned out to be dog treats. For a very long time that was my little family.
I was an average-ish student. I mean I was told I was smart and got good grades but as school went on I guess I had a hard time applying myself. For example grade 7 I got honors in math and was put into an "advanced" class for grade 8. Then in grade 8 we spent more time "racing" to see who could finish the tests firsts or getting sent into the halls to play "Hall hockey" than learning. Needless to say my marks went downhill. But yes I finished high school right smack in the middle not the top but not the bottom.
I wrote my first book when I was in grade 6. Our teacher read us the hobbit. I was blown away. This writer had invented another whole world. Creatures I had no idea what they were. Hollywood still was oh 15 years or so away from making those amazing books! BY my book I mean story, I wanted write fantasy. A friend who was a very good artist even back then drew me pictures to go with it. I don't know where it ended up. The binder is likely somewhere in my parents basement......
We moved, a few times. At first for a short period we lived with my aforementioned aunt Glo. Until my grandparents moved to GP. Then we lived with them for a couple years. While mom finished school. We lived in a couple apartments and a townhouse (Or as people nowadays say walkout Condo) Then about when I started school we got our first house. This means I went to a few schools. If you are from GP you know, Parkside then Hillside then Swanavon until Montrose. I was in the last class to go to the old downtown Montrose. Remember the leaky ceilings, buckets in the hallway... And the first to go to the new one. What an improvement! We even got a rock climbing wall. I do notice everywhere I go though all the new schools from then look the same. And as a side bar this school went up during the PC reign under the dreaded King Ralph, just cause you know he was so horrible. But no more politics. I will get to the Comp on my next entry.
My writings changed in grade 8. I found this book in the library. It was the complete history of the American Mob. It was very up to date. Truth was I had no idea who or what the mob was until then. But it was exciting. Guys in a brotherhood, with money, power and women. That lived by their own rules. That became my writing, these antiheroes. "Lucky" Luciano became to me more of a hero that Gandalf, The Prime Minister and Gretzky all rolled into one could ever be. Now of course later on as I grew up, I saw the greed and betrayal. That these weren't good men but the do make for great fiction and still dominate my writing.....
SO by 13ish I had pretty much accepted I was gonna be an only child and that I was not gonna have a father figure. Disclaimer here, my grandpa is a great father figure. Just an average Joe who worked all his life. Had decent home, raised a good family. I mean a dude to say, that's my dad. You hear little boys say it all the time. Hell you hear little boys say my dads bigger than your dad. Yes I was passed that stage in life BUT when I was younger I didn't well couldn't say that. I mean grown up I am more scared of my mom than most dudes I have met but that's neither here nor there anyways boy was I wrong about my family. So I come home one day after school and a strange car is sitting in the driveway. I had been walking with a friend lets call him Ditch (You'll see why later) I asked him to come in. I told him to hold a hockey stick, ya know just in case. Some dude was in the kitchen making a salad. A friend of my moms I guess, I called her (On a landline, remember those! Oh the good old days) and she said yes it was fine. That was my first meeting with my step dad. He moved in, shortly after that I think. My timeline is a bit blurry. My step dad is a good guy. I already liked fishing, he introduced me to hunting. Bought me my first gun.To be honest I aint much of a shot and I am not much for hunting. Duck is okay, you go you shoot, you go home. Not hours on a cut line. He tried to teach me man stuff. I will be honest I wasn't the best student. He worked /works in the Oilfied. The fact is I did get used to the smell of Frac oil and him working long hours.
Here is a tiny bit about ditch. Since over the next few entries he will pop up, over and over. He is my oldest friend. As of this we have been friends for 24 years. Now not like Facebook friends where you like someones shit now and then. We still work together and talk daily. No we aren't as tight as two teen boys were but we are still friends. First time we got drunk, it was together. Mixing everything in his dads cabinet vodka, rye, rum with coke and sprite. Silly boys. Next time we did that we got caught and in shit. First (only) time the police brought us home, it was together. We were just tossing pebbles at a girls window to wake her. But it was her dad we woke. First time we got caught smoking weed, together.... See where this is headed. Moved to Edmonton together..... And on and on..... The honest truth is I think we were awkward kids and that made us friends, not popular, not nerds, not jocks, just kinda the nobodies and that bonded us.
Hockey is my sport. Now don't get me wrong, I am not good at it. Except on the NHL video games. I am a terrible skater. I played ball hockey for awhile as a adult but for fun(See other blogs about playon tourny and essc Rise of Cobra). I never played any as a kid except on the street, that sounds gangster what I mean is on a snowy residential street in front of my grandparents. I was actually a decent street hockey player. But like everyone in the 90s I collected hockey cards. Who knows maybe some would be worth money now, if I knew where they where. But they are what gave me my team. I grew up in Northern Alberta just after the Oilers dynasty. So yes I was supposed to be an Oil fan. But this team on the rise caught my eye. They had this young Russian kid Fedorov who was a beast. A defense man who was looking like he could be a great plus this Captain Stevie Y who was a magic man too. So I jumped on them as the team I would cheer for. I only knew this from hockey cards and Hockey night in Canada. Grandpa watched every Saturday. I got on the bandwagon at the right time, now I need to stay on if I am a real fan....
I was 14 when my middle brother was born. I was super excited to have one! I call him Biggs now, I am not a big dude by any means. 5'6". He is 9" taller. I got out of 8th grade science to go meet him for the first time. We were buddies right from the start. When my girlfriend would come over he would get mad. Clearly he was not a fan of anyone who took my time from him. Within a year though I came home and he came over to me with a note. I am going to be a big brother too.
Another life truth. 6+3=9, 5+4=9, 7+2=9, and on and on. Meaning there is more than one way to solve a problem. Being stuck in a single way of thinking isn't always good or always the only way to do shit.
I have to mention a cousin now. Lets call him Bad News. Back then I had no idea why. He came around the summer of grade 8. Right off the hop I didn't know why everyone from mom to grandparents said he was bad news. He seemed nice enough. His manners were even better than mine, and I think I had pretty decent ones. The fact was he was a Huck Finn type. I didn't know who his parents were, some cousins or something and he seemed to be able to do what ever he wanted. He would fish in the pond that was for 12 and under and keep it. He stayed over anytime he wanted without asking, and when my family said yes which wasn't often. He was the one who taught me if you have PB & J you never are hungry. Once he did drink every pop in he house and mom was mad but other than that he seemed nice enough. I only mention him now cause he will come up again...
So my next brother Little Beast was born. I call him this cause we are roughly the same size but his dead lifts are 3 times his body weight. I look at dead lifts and feel sore. But it wasn't always like that he had kidney failure inutero. When he was born he was in intensive care for 47 days. We stayed at the Edmonton Ronald McDonald house. I wanna say what a great charity this is and the people who give their time just wow you guys are the bomb.
This meant me and Biggs spent hours, more than anyone should have to wandering the U of A hospital. Me pushing him in his stroller or sitting with mom. I think we did get pretty close in the time we spent that summer. Of course dad had to go back home to work. That had to be a hard time on him being away too. But the big day came after a few surgeries and recovery that we could all go home and I could start High School.
I am trying my best not to rant, but this one I am going to say. Sign your donation card! If your fucking dead what good are those organs? To you they aren't. They will sit in the earth and rot while a living person may suffer that you coulda helped. I hear people say they can't on religious ground, well what the fuck? Isn't your god love and mercy? Would he want to help the living? Think about it.
So there you have some of my life up till I was 15 and about to hit High school. I am sure there is much more but A) I cant remember it and B) this has gotten longer than I expected. There was the border crossing when I was 7 coming home from Arizona with my great grandparents. Grandpa said nothing to declare to the guard and I asked well what about all that fruit in boxes? The guard laughed and laughed and waved us by, no ticket no nothing just a chuckle. I was told maybe when adults talk I shouldn't. There are a ton more stories but...
So ya this got long, I guess my next blog we be those 3 years or 4 if I include the year before I moved to Edmonton.
I was born on the Bayou, no that's a lie. I was born in a brier patch! Also another lie, I might use the name Br'er rabbit on twitter but it is only because I like his stories, it would be cool though, I would love to see the South.
I was born in Edmonton. 1981, June. So yes I am currently 36. I didn't live in Edmonton or at least I didn't grow up here. I was born in the U of A hospital 4 lbs, 12 oz. I assume that is small, as I did spend a bit of time there. Truth is my mom was a teen mom. Not a trash bag hoe like the ones they make famous on MTV. Looking at you Farrah! Anyways, I have no idea but I don't think that was easy back then, I mean it aint now. So for the first couple years of my life we lived with my grandparents. I am still very close to them. Now in my mind I had a pretty good, normal childhood. I never went without, the flip side we never were rich.Random though, I did have the first Nintendo of all the kids I knew. Only cause we were in the States and mom found one for me. So that seems pretty rich to a little kid! Also mom you created the video game monster! I guess I spoke early and have never shut up since or so I have been told.
By my recollecting I had a great childhood. I actually have a large family, though I very RARELY see any of them anymore. I remember seeing my cousins a bunch and liking them except when they slobbered on my toys. Like a normal kid I spent time with the neighborhood kids doing average Canadian stuff. Playing street hockey, riding bikes, going to the shell for slurrpies in the summer and so on.... Oh this was all in Grande Prairie, I think I missed that part. Anyway I love my home town. Gets under my skin sometimes when people here put it down. I freely admit it aint the nicest place. And maybe not the most progressive BUT it is full of good hard working normal people. It some what makes me laugh when people like Rebel Sheila says people are jealous of oil money. The people reply they don't deserve it. I have to disagree, people in GP work long hard hours that a lot of us can't even actually understand. Sure it isn't the same place since I left (That came out wrong lol and arrogant) What I mean is it has doubled in size!
I have to put it out there. I had an aunt, who did a crap ton for me. And I find out more randomly. But Glo was a great woman, I gotta put it out there. When I was young she was my babysitter, until she passed away she made sure to call me on my birthday up till I was 30 years old. Her husband bought me my first cowboy boots. Frick they are small! I can never repay all the good shit that lady did.
I was for many years an only child. Wanna know what that means. you get bored and you need to entertain yourself. I did this in 2 ways. First I read, everything. More than I should. See granny owned a second hand books store. She let me read stuff beyond maybe what I should. Like true crime at a young age. Plus I had comics and regular kids books like the Hardy Boys and stuff like that. Second thing to entertain myself was GI Joe. I played with them for hours! They went on all kinds of adventures. I always loved camping and fishing. Plus I was lucky. First we always went for a summer holiday. Usually into southern BC to go camping and fishing but on top of that grandma and grandpa were young enough they also took me for a week or two. Summers were great.
There isnt a ton in my life I regret. Yes there is some, I am sure every person has some but one I have from my childhood is my great grandpas tackle box. It was one of those big old Plano ones. And it was full to the nuts! He loved fishing. After he passed, I think I was 10 or 11. It went into a garage sale for $70. I think someone said they would buy it for me but for some reason I said no! Now I know a good box now is $70 empty, minimum. So think if it was full! I still wouldn't have needed to buy hooks 25 years later. Also I am one of the lucky ones. Not everyone gets to know there great grandparents let alone grandparents well. I did, grandpa was a grandpa at 39.... I am 36 now and don't even have a kid! I got to know my great grandparents. travel with them, to Arizona and even stay with them....
Life fact one, we teach hate, racism, homophobia and all that jazz. Kids in a playground will sit and play with any kid unless their parents have told them other wise
My mom was for the most part a single parent. For some kids this can be a bad thing, maybe not enough time and attention if they have to work more to pay for everything. Mom gave me all she could, so that meant she did work some evenings and weekends. SO I spent a lot of time at my grandparents growing up. I to this day am still very close with them. They took me camping in summers. Had hockey nets so I could play in the winters. I had a room there, clothes and everything. Their house has always been a second home. I was 17 and had friends over one night when they came home from camping unannounced. I got in shit just like it was a parents house! I don't talk to them as often as I should.... Also mom has a brother, that means I have an uncle. There is the same age difference, actually less between him and I and me and my brothers. He was very much a brother to me. He was the one who taught me how to shave. Along with doing brotherly things like convincing me to eat beef jerky that turned out to be dog treats. For a very long time that was my little family.
I was an average-ish student. I mean I was told I was smart and got good grades but as school went on I guess I had a hard time applying myself. For example grade 7 I got honors in math and was put into an "advanced" class for grade 8. Then in grade 8 we spent more time "racing" to see who could finish the tests firsts or getting sent into the halls to play "Hall hockey" than learning. Needless to say my marks went downhill. But yes I finished high school right smack in the middle not the top but not the bottom.
I wrote my first book when I was in grade 6. Our teacher read us the hobbit. I was blown away. This writer had invented another whole world. Creatures I had no idea what they were. Hollywood still was oh 15 years or so away from making those amazing books! BY my book I mean story, I wanted write fantasy. A friend who was a very good artist even back then drew me pictures to go with it. I don't know where it ended up. The binder is likely somewhere in my parents basement......
We moved, a few times. At first for a short period we lived with my aforementioned aunt Glo. Until my grandparents moved to GP. Then we lived with them for a couple years. While mom finished school. We lived in a couple apartments and a townhouse (Or as people nowadays say walkout Condo) Then about when I started school we got our first house. This means I went to a few schools. If you are from GP you know, Parkside then Hillside then Swanavon until Montrose. I was in the last class to go to the old downtown Montrose. Remember the leaky ceilings, buckets in the hallway... And the first to go to the new one. What an improvement! We even got a rock climbing wall. I do notice everywhere I go though all the new schools from then look the same. And as a side bar this school went up during the PC reign under the dreaded King Ralph, just cause you know he was so horrible. But no more politics. I will get to the Comp on my next entry.
My writings changed in grade 8. I found this book in the library. It was the complete history of the American Mob. It was very up to date. Truth was I had no idea who or what the mob was until then. But it was exciting. Guys in a brotherhood, with money, power and women. That lived by their own rules. That became my writing, these antiheroes. "Lucky" Luciano became to me more of a hero that Gandalf, The Prime Minister and Gretzky all rolled into one could ever be. Now of course later on as I grew up, I saw the greed and betrayal. That these weren't good men but the do make for great fiction and still dominate my writing.....
SO by 13ish I had pretty much accepted I was gonna be an only child and that I was not gonna have a father figure. Disclaimer here, my grandpa is a great father figure. Just an average Joe who worked all his life. Had decent home, raised a good family. I mean a dude to say, that's my dad. You hear little boys say it all the time. Hell you hear little boys say my dads bigger than your dad. Yes I was passed that stage in life BUT when I was younger I didn't well couldn't say that. I mean grown up I am more scared of my mom than most dudes I have met but that's neither here nor there anyways boy was I wrong about my family. So I come home one day after school and a strange car is sitting in the driveway. I had been walking with a friend lets call him Ditch (You'll see why later) I asked him to come in. I told him to hold a hockey stick, ya know just in case. Some dude was in the kitchen making a salad. A friend of my moms I guess, I called her (On a landline, remember those! Oh the good old days) and she said yes it was fine. That was my first meeting with my step dad. He moved in, shortly after that I think. My timeline is a bit blurry. My step dad is a good guy. I already liked fishing, he introduced me to hunting. Bought me my first gun.To be honest I aint much of a shot and I am not much for hunting. Duck is okay, you go you shoot, you go home. Not hours on a cut line. He tried to teach me man stuff. I will be honest I wasn't the best student. He worked /works in the Oilfied. The fact is I did get used to the smell of Frac oil and him working long hours.
Here is a tiny bit about ditch. Since over the next few entries he will pop up, over and over. He is my oldest friend. As of this we have been friends for 24 years. Now not like Facebook friends where you like someones shit now and then. We still work together and talk daily. No we aren't as tight as two teen boys were but we are still friends. First time we got drunk, it was together. Mixing everything in his dads cabinet vodka, rye, rum with coke and sprite. Silly boys. Next time we did that we got caught and in shit. First (only) time the police brought us home, it was together. We were just tossing pebbles at a girls window to wake her. But it was her dad we woke. First time we got caught smoking weed, together.... See where this is headed. Moved to Edmonton together..... And on and on..... The honest truth is I think we were awkward kids and that made us friends, not popular, not nerds, not jocks, just kinda the nobodies and that bonded us.
Hockey is my sport. Now don't get me wrong, I am not good at it. Except on the NHL video games. I am a terrible skater. I played ball hockey for awhile as a adult but for fun(See other blogs about playon tourny and essc Rise of Cobra). I never played any as a kid except on the street, that sounds gangster what I mean is on a snowy residential street in front of my grandparents. I was actually a decent street hockey player. But like everyone in the 90s I collected hockey cards. Who knows maybe some would be worth money now, if I knew where they where. But they are what gave me my team. I grew up in Northern Alberta just after the Oilers dynasty. So yes I was supposed to be an Oil fan. But this team on the rise caught my eye. They had this young Russian kid Fedorov who was a beast. A defense man who was looking like he could be a great plus this Captain Stevie Y who was a magic man too. So I jumped on them as the team I would cheer for. I only knew this from hockey cards and Hockey night in Canada. Grandpa watched every Saturday. I got on the bandwagon at the right time, now I need to stay on if I am a real fan....
I was 14 when my middle brother was born. I was super excited to have one! I call him Biggs now, I am not a big dude by any means. 5'6". He is 9" taller. I got out of 8th grade science to go meet him for the first time. We were buddies right from the start. When my girlfriend would come over he would get mad. Clearly he was not a fan of anyone who took my time from him. Within a year though I came home and he came over to me with a note. I am going to be a big brother too.
Another life truth. 6+3=9, 5+4=9, 7+2=9, and on and on. Meaning there is more than one way to solve a problem. Being stuck in a single way of thinking isn't always good or always the only way to do shit.
I have to mention a cousin now. Lets call him Bad News. Back then I had no idea why. He came around the summer of grade 8. Right off the hop I didn't know why everyone from mom to grandparents said he was bad news. He seemed nice enough. His manners were even better than mine, and I think I had pretty decent ones. The fact was he was a Huck Finn type. I didn't know who his parents were, some cousins or something and he seemed to be able to do what ever he wanted. He would fish in the pond that was for 12 and under and keep it. He stayed over anytime he wanted without asking, and when my family said yes which wasn't often. He was the one who taught me if you have PB & J you never are hungry. Once he did drink every pop in he house and mom was mad but other than that he seemed nice enough. I only mention him now cause he will come up again...
So my next brother Little Beast was born. I call him this cause we are roughly the same size but his dead lifts are 3 times his body weight. I look at dead lifts and feel sore. But it wasn't always like that he had kidney failure inutero. When he was born he was in intensive care for 47 days. We stayed at the Edmonton Ronald McDonald house. I wanna say what a great charity this is and the people who give their time just wow you guys are the bomb.
This meant me and Biggs spent hours, more than anyone should have to wandering the U of A hospital. Me pushing him in his stroller or sitting with mom. I think we did get pretty close in the time we spent that summer. Of course dad had to go back home to work. That had to be a hard time on him being away too. But the big day came after a few surgeries and recovery that we could all go home and I could start High School.
I am trying my best not to rant, but this one I am going to say. Sign your donation card! If your fucking dead what good are those organs? To you they aren't. They will sit in the earth and rot while a living person may suffer that you coulda helped. I hear people say they can't on religious ground, well what the fuck? Isn't your god love and mercy? Would he want to help the living? Think about it.
So there you have some of my life up till I was 15 and about to hit High school. I am sure there is much more but A) I cant remember it and B) this has gotten longer than I expected. There was the border crossing when I was 7 coming home from Arizona with my great grandparents. Grandpa said nothing to declare to the guard and I asked well what about all that fruit in boxes? The guard laughed and laughed and waved us by, no ticket no nothing just a chuckle. I was told maybe when adults talk I shouldn't. There are a ton more stories but...
So ya this got long, I guess my next blog we be those 3 years or 4 if I include the year before I moved to Edmonton.
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