Chapter XIII

One night in October of 1983, I was in a bar called the Zanzibar Tavern with my buddy Carson. We seemed to be frequenting the strip joints a lot at that time. Well, I looked up the stairs, and saw what at the time, I thought was an angel. Her name was Sarina. We were living together within a week. It was kinda neat being with her. All my friends were talking about me. You see, she was a 'Stripper'. She also had a 7 year old daughter.

It was a lifestyle I don't think anyone should get accustomed to. The drugs were rampant, the people were all suspect. There was a girl Sarina worked with a lot, Baby Seka. Named after the Swedish porn star. Well, Sarina and I got close to Baby Seka and her hubby, Mike. I read years later, he was charged with murder. Seems he had beaten some guy to death over a bad deal.

There was a lot about Sarina that should have really tipped me off, or at least warned me. She was a recovering addict. Needles, speed, heroin. She had spent about 6 months in a Moroccan prison for being caught at the airport with 17 kilos of hashish strapped to her body. What kind of woman does that with a 5 year old little girl at home. For $5000 dollars even. The Moroccan prison system back then was so corrupt, she had her way to freedom bought. She also gave me one of the sorest doses I ever had. But, I was this all forgiving sort then, and I think I fancied myself as a knight in shining armour.

By June of 1984, her daughter Angie came to live with us, and by December of 1984, we were married. She had quit the stripping business, got a job at a pet store, and life seemed to be pretty good. We even had a cottage on Sturgeon Lake, in between Bobcaygeon and Lindsay. Then one day early in 1987, the mortgage on the cottage came due. Well, Sarina's answer was to earn the money the best way she knew how, strip for it. She even had her boobs done, which at the time cost us $1250. Funny, I always hated those new boobs. Felt like I was with Gumby.

Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, but I tried to make the best out of an impossible situation. But, there were too many outside influences at play here. I was being paid attention to by women who were here and now. She used to not come home for days at a time. We had started to live separate lives long before we split.

In September of 1987, Sarina and Angie left. Angie came back a couple weeks later because Sarina couldn't get her into any schools. Seems they don't have private schooling in the strip clubs in Ontario. I tried as hard as I could to take care of her, but it didn't work too well. I feel like I failed at that. Sarina also headed onto a downward spiral. She got back into the junk Did a short stint in jail for driving while intoxicated. You'd have thought I was relieved she was out of my life. It still really fucked me up for a long time after that.

Not only that, I was on the hook for $5,000 of that mortgage. Shortly after she left, she sold the place.

There was something I found out afterwards, that affected me for the longest time. One of my closest friends at the time was a guy named Lindsay. He was a recovering addict as well. One Saturday afternoon, in the summer of 1986, while I was working overtime, Lindsay got his hands on some speed. Well, he was so excited, but he didn't have anyone to do it with. Guess where he went? I can remember vividly coming home from work, going into our small washroom by the front door, and seeing a teaspoon behind the sink. It didn't make sense until I heard about Lindsay and her shooting up on that Saturday afternoon. I think I would have taken it better if Lindsay said he fucked her.

Chapter XII

I spent the next year or so getting to know a lot of different people a lot better. The Gasworks was the greatest place in the world in the early 80's. Music in Toronto was at its peak. Four or five nights a week, I would be there.

Bands like Moxy, Goddo, Anvil, Saga, Rhinegold, and a host of others, made going to the Gasworks an event each and every time. Bands used to play a full week at a bar back then. On any given night, you would see up and comers such as Brian Adams, Alannah Myles, Holly Woods and Toronto.

The picture shown here is of Buzz (Doug) Shearman, who sang for Moxy for 3 albums, until throat troubles forced him to step down. Filling in for him for 1 album was a kid from the west by the name of Mike Rynowski. He later became Mike Reno and fronted the band Loverboy for years after. Buzz did try a comeback of sorts, first with his own band Buzzsaw, and then a reunion with Moxy for a couple years. Sadly, in 1983, while riding his motorcycle along Humber College Boulevard, Buzz lost his life after crashing into a transport truck. Toronto, and Canada lost possibly it's best singer/frontman ever.

Today Moxy is together for one-off shows every now and again. Alex Machin from A Foot In Coldwater fame is singing for them now.

Music today sure isn't what it used to be, that's for sure. There are some great ones now, but there just doesn't seem to be the consistency for good hard rock as there was back then.

Chapter XI

In November 1978, I met a girl named Jacquie. She was a young girl of 16. I was in 'The Gasworks', which was my hangout for a few years. We used to talk on the phone a lot, but it wasn't until Christmas night that I would see her again. We were inseparable for the next 4 1/2 years. In January of 1979 I quit school to try my luck as a wannabe 'Rock Star'. It didn't last long, and when I finished, my mom and me didn't like each other very much. Jacquie and I were getting along great, and her mom thought I was the 'Second Coming', so I spent most of my time at their place.

In April of 1979, I finally got the job my mom wanted me to find...any job. Maclean Hunter wasn't my first choice, but I made do for the time being. In 1994 Quebecor Printing Inc. took over. Twenty eight years later, I guess it's still the time being.

In November of 1981, Jacquie and I moved in together. In retrospect, she is one of the classiest women I have ever known, but at the time...MAN! was that a mistake. We were together for 2 memorable, stormy, eventful, rocky years. I was 22 and a good looking guy. I knew it! Every chance I got, I took advantage of that 'gift'. In June of 1983, she left. It's strange though, even today we don't regret the time we spent together. We were young, and had a lot to learn. Unfortunately, she was the only one who learned at the time.

Chapter X

I've always loved my mom. In 1971 there was a song on the radio called, 'Sweet City Woman' by the Stampeders. It always reminds me of her. She did a great job of raising 2 kids on her own. She'd date once in a while, but Katie and me were her life. She did find a serious guy around 1974. His name was Paul Kalnassy. He was younger, and European. He had a little culture about him. He moved in with us and became a father figure to Katie, who was still very young at the time, but I was 14 and I would have none of it. Paul and I got along most times, but it was never a father/son relationship. I do talk sincerely with him now whenever he comes to visit from Calgary. It honestly is nice to see him when he's here.

Around 1975 or 1976 I started to not be around as much as I used to. Girls and music were my life. First there was Sandy Adams for 1 1/2 years, then it was Lisa Herbert for another 1 1/2 years (with a couple in between).

I always did well in school, but I didn't have the discipline that I should have. My first year of high school, at Sir John A. MacDonald was a disaster. Skipping classes, getting lousy grades. Dreaming mostly of being a rock star. The one thing I did do well at that time was write. Write songs and music.

My mom and me started to drift apart. I started to resent my sister as well. She was growing up, so she didn't need her 'big brother' as much. Maybe it was just me who thought he didn't need them.

Chapter IX

The person I really feel for is my sister, Katie. She never knew my dad. I try to tell her what I can, but I feel bad knowing that she won't ever have the memories of him.

Carmen Marson was one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen. She was my girlfriend in the spring of 1971. It broke my heart when my mom, sister, and me left Ottawa to move to Toronto. My mom's family lived there. She wanted to be near them, so it was there we went. I wonder if Carmen remembers me. I sure remember her.

"The Service", which is a way of saying the navy, army, air force, etc., gave my mom a ton of money when my dad died. In 1971, it was pretty substantial. She wanted to buy a house in the Toronto area. I think she got some bad advice, because she decided not to buy, but rent a townhouse in Agincourt. In 1971, she could have bought 2 houses, and had some money left over. The townhouses were where I spent some of my most formative years. I went through a lot there, and learned a lot there.

Chapter VIII

Summer is over and I'm back home with my mom, dad and Katie. In September of 1970, my dad went into the hospital for what would be the last time. I didn't realize it at the time, but I knew he was really sick.

On November 7th, my Uncle Jim took me to the hospital. My dad's family were always staying with us. They would come from Dundalk, Orangeville and Fonthill to see my dad on weekends. Anyway, Jim took me to the hospital to see my dad. I remember him telling the security guard, "He's going up to see his father." The Navy hospitals were very strict about the age limits for visitors.

I got to spend the whole afternoon with my dad watching a football game on T.V. He was still smoking through a tube. Whenever he wanted a cigarette, someone would come in and light it for him and put it in a little stand. He'd just keep the tube in his mouth. It had been 2 or 3 months since I had seen him so I was glad for the time to spend with him.

I guess I was a little naive at 10, because it didn't dawn on me till a long while later, just why I had gotten to see my dad that day. Sometime that night, my dad died. A week later I went back to school. I sometimes wondered if anybody knew what had just happened. Nobody said anything to me.

Chapter VII

If I could change one thing in my life, I guess it would be the time my dad came to see one of my 'little league' baseball games. He was in a wheelchair by then, and people being what they are couldn't help but stare. I was only 10 years old and a little embarassed. I told my dad that I didn't want him to come to any more of my games. If ever there is a memory that will eat away at somebody for the rest of their lives, that is mine. My dad didn't show it at the time, but my mom told me not too many years ago that, that was probably the lowest point in my dad's life.

My dad had a great family. He had one brother and three sisters. One of his sisters had a cottage in Long Beach, Ontario. I spent the first of many summers there in 1970. My cousin Tommy and I were the very best of friends. He was 4 years younger than me but we had a lot of fun together. I miss those days. Tommy and I haven't talked much the past 20 years or so. But, we did reconnect in May of 2005. We saw each other at my Aunt Doreen's funeral. It took some emailing and jockeying back and forth but Dawn and me spent Labour Day weekend, 2006 with him and Cindy. It was great to be with him again.

Sometimes you need a bit of the past so the todays make sense.

Chapter VI

In 1969, we moved to Halifax, just across the harbour from Dartmouth. We didn't have to do a thing. His men did it all for us. Another house, another school for me. We didn't stay there for long though, the Navy transferred my dad to Ottawa, Ontario. We had a nice town-house there. My dad was stationed at the Forces base near Parliament Hill. I can remember seeing him carried from his bed to a car in the mornings, by his men, just so he could go to work. Some days he was strong, some days not.

One time my dad took me swimming, and being the show-off we all know I can be, I decided to show him how I could jump off the diving board. I panicked when I couldn't touch the bottom, so I started to take in some water. My 90 pound father took off his jacket and dove in after me. After he got me out, a pool worker had to pull my dad out. So here we are, a scared 10 year old, and a soaking wet, fully clothed, hunched over man, driving home, and all he can say to me is, "You owe me a pack of cigarettes." He also told me not to tell my mom. Everybody knew my dad was really sick, yet he didn't want my mom to worry about something like that. That night my dad was in a lot of pain. The incision he had from his pubic bone to his sternum had ripped open a bit. He never did say anything about having to jump in after me.

Christie Public School was great. I had a lot of friends there. I also had a lot of girlfriends too. Laura Benedict was a beauty at 10 years old. So was Lorraine Foster, Wendy Brown, Karen Pettigrew. My dad used to tease me about having, 'girly friends'. I was always lucky with girls. It seems my greatest gift would turn out to be my biggest fault.

Chapter V

One of the neatest things to happen to me was to talk to my mom's tummy. Someone was in there. On July 20, 1968, my little sister was born. Kathleen Anne Ray. I got to hold her on the way home from the hospital. I was in seventh heaven. She was my pride and joy. Again, being just my mom and me, I didn't have that much of a male influence growing up. I guess I was lucky, not learning about all that macho crap. So when Katie came around, it was pretty neat.

I guess it was the summer of 1969, my mom, Katie, and me went to pick up my dad. His ship had just come back from another trip. Something was wrong, he didn't feel well and he wanted to go straight home. I figured it was just a tummy ache like I sometimes got. My dad had to have an operation before, so when he went into the hospital I didn't think too much of it.

The doctor said he had to have his gall bladder removed. It was to be a five hour operation. When they opened him up, they found he had cancer of the bial duct. The bial duct controls and regulates the release of acids to digest stomach contents. After that came a nine hour operation. He wasn't given much of a chance of coming out of the surgery, but he did.

For the next 15 months, my dad spent more time in the hospital than out of it. I rarely got to see him because there were rules about children under 12 not being allowed in the hospital. Once, about three months after his second operation, his doctor made arrangements to let me see him. It was hard to see what was once a 5 foot 10 inch, 180 pound man, now weighing 90 pounds. My dad was a Captain by now, and he was still functioning as one from his hospital bed. He was a very respected man in the Navy, especially by the men who served under him.

At 9 years old I all of a sudden had to be responsible. I used to babysit my 1 year old sister occasionally while my mom went to be with my dad in the hospital. My sister and I spent a lot of time alone together when we were young.

Chapter IV

My dad, as absent as he was all the time, had the greatest effect on my life. He was a strict, loving father, and in a lot of respects he is still my greatest influence. I remember one time coming home crying because Ashley Merrick and I had a fight, and I lost. I thought I could get a bit of sympathy from my dad. WRONG! He took me downstairs and gave me something to cry about. He didn't care that I had lost the fight, he just wanted me to take it like a man. I remember another time, Paul Hartley and I had a fight. I lost again, cried again, got to go downstairs again. I think the time I stole 20 cents was the worst. You've never seen a kid, more scared in your life. I guess most kids would have hated their father if it happened to them. The way I see it, my father taught me about honesty, integrity, and respect.

Chapter III

We moved to Victoria Road in the summer of 1966. It was a nice house in a nice neighborhood.

Ashley Merrick was my second best friend. We used to sing old Monkee songs in his back yard, using baseball bats as guitars. I loved music as a kid. The Monkees, The Beatles, I could listen to them for hours. I often did in my room.

My dad hated rock n' roll, but he never discouraged me from listening to it. Whenever he came back from a cruise, he always brought me something, sometimes a guitar, sometimes a set of maracas. One Christmas he even got me a drum set. I would close my door, and bang away, thinking I was Ringo Starr. I literally wore those drums out.

I also sang in the choir at school. Mind you, it was somewhat due to the fact that Kelly Hollywood sang too. Boy, she was pretty. I was seven years old, and already liking girls. Boys were supposed to pull hair and trip girls out in the schoolyard. Not me, I liked to hold hands, walk them home, and sometimes even get a little peck on the cheek. I haven't changed much I don't think. Some people would think of me as a flirt, I like to think of it as being a hopeless romantic. When I was eight it was Nancy Hughes.

If I had known then what I know now, I think I would have been an athelete. Then again, I know now what I didn't know then and it didn't really help much.

Chapter II

As for those stories my mom always told me, boy was I a brat. I guess all boys are, at that age.

My dad was always away, so most of the time it was just my mom and me. His job in the Navy was on a ship. I know there weren't any wars, but his ship was always somewhere, mostly for two or three months at a time. In fact, I hardly remember my dad being around at all.

There are certain memories that I have with him, but mostly it was just that he was away. I suppose that is what helped to prepare me for what was coming up in the future.

Dartmouth, Nova Scotia seemed like a nice enough place. We had moved there, two years earlier. The third house we lived in there was a duplex, on the top of a hill. Actually the street was called, Mountain Avenue. You could see my school, at the bottom of the hill, from our back porch.

Mary Lawson Public School was where I went to primary. Like most little kids on their first day, I cried. Mrs. Bowser, my first teacher, didn't help matters much. She was a wicked old thing. I have 3 memories really stand out from those days. One was the day we all had to go to the gym to get our shots, another was the sight of old Mrs. Bowser smacking my poor little hands with that enourmous slab of black leather. Both experiences made me cry. I learned to forgive the doctor.

The third was just weird for a 5 year old kid. I was walking through my school yard on my way home. There was a girl there, she must have been in her late teens, or early 20’s. Well, this girl had a knife, and she grabbed me. I can remember her holding the knife up to me, and saying, “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” Tell anyone what? And why are you here? Why are you doing this? I never could figure that one out. Anyway, she let me go, and I continued on my way home. I never told my mom or dad.

I wish I could remember Jimmy's last name. He was my very first 'best friend'. We used to play Batman together. We looked kind of silly though, all our moms' could find to make capes, were these tartan patterns. We didn't care. We were 'Batman and Robin'... Or were we McBatman and McRobin?

Chapter I

May 10, 1960. I don't remember the day, although I should. It was my first. I hear Victoria, B.C. is a beautiful place. I only spent a few weeks there, maybe a month, so I didn't really get to see much of it. Maybe I'll go visit sometime. Do you think they'll remember me?

Montreal, Quebec is also somewhat of a mystery. I spent three years there, while my dad went to McGill University. The Navy sent him for something or other. I guess they saw something in him that they wanted for themselves.

I've got a ton of pictures and stories from my mom, but about the only thing I remember about Montreal is, that is where I first began my fascination with the Montreal Canadiens, of the National Hockey League. Professional sports is a big thing with me. I've always celebrated the highs, and agonized the lows with my favourite teams. The Canadiens have been good to me. They've been Stanley Cup champions 13 out of the 45 years I've been around. As for the Toronto Blue Jays, they won the World Series in 1992 and 1993.

21 Gun Salute

'Ready.....Aim.'
BANG!
'Ready.....Aim.'
BANG!
'Ready.....Aim.'
BANG!

I'd always thought a twenty one gun salute was supposed to have twenty one BANGS! or even one BANG! from twenty one guns; but three BANGS! in unison from seven guns? It works out I guess, but how did they ever arrive at that particular formula?

The picture is as clear as if it was yesterday. The ten year old boy with the bloodshot eyes, pouting, standing there in his new suit. His great uncle Alf, right behind him, hands on his shoulders, as they both stood there watching the ten year old's father being buried.

There's other people in the picture too. They just don't stand out as much as these two.

No wonder the ten year old was thinking about guns, and BANGS! and their formula. Two days before, on a cold Sunday morning in November, 1970, another uncle, Jim, woke him up to say "Mike, your Dad died last night." I guess even a ten year old can go into shock.

Of all the things that should go through a young boy's mind at this time, I'm sure how many BANGS! in a twenty one gun salute, isn't one of them.