Kids do the stupidest things....or...No rabbit is worth dying for.

I am ...without a doubt ....someone who as a kid did some pretty stupid things....I don't think I actually set out to do stupid things....stupid things just took place....not that I am blaming my stupidity on anyone else just that my stupidity was not intentional....I am too smart for that.....

As a kid I had a pet rabbit...Nibbles...(after Nibbles died he was replaced with another identical black rabbit who became Nibbles 2...however as a rabbit Nibbles 2 was a pain in the ass compared to Nibbles...who then became known as Nibbles 1...confused..?)

Every morning I would get up and let Nibbles run around the backyard....I think that Nibbles considered himself more of a sleek black low to the ground dog rather than a rabbit...but then again we will never know we will we......

Anyways.....it was the first day of grade three...I was dressed in my grade 3 best...In those days mothers dressed you to impress....god knows why .....as grade 3 has had little impact on my life other than ....well.......ummm....nothing really..

I was wearing the latest in stretch poly pants and a seersucker shirt.......Nibbles was running in the yard and I was sitting on the back stairs with a 3 inch pocket knife...whittling a piece of wood....I had recently seen Ol' Yeller and was deeply affected by the movie....even to the point where I had picked up certain affectations that were in the movie.... such as whittling....needless to say this skill has served me well throughout the years as whittling is one of the great social pastimes....especially when on holiday in the Ozarks.....

I was whittling...... Nibbles was running around getting his morning constitutional......And about a block away I spied a big brown dog trotting along the road....now this dog could not see me and could certainly not see Nibbles....however in my little pea-like brain my inner dialoguebegan to stir.....

What happens if the dog comes to the yard.....?....dogs hate rabbits...dogs will eat rabbits........ I will need to defend Nibbles from the ravages of this horrific rabbit munching dog........

While this retarded inner dialogue was going on I did not realize it but I had grabbed the knife in a stabbing grip and was mindlessly slashing at the air/pretend rabbit eating dog..... in an effort to protect life and limb of said Nibbles.....needless to say.......none of this threat was real at all.......the dog was oblivious to rabbit......and about a block away and Nibbles was happily pooping round pea sized turds on the lawn......

I on the other hand was inner dialoguing and actually stabbing the air/said imaginary dog and staving off the threat.....I was so engrossed in this idea of rabbit protection that I managed to stick myself with the knife well into my thigh severing a small but nonetheless impressively gushing artery.....

Ouch....fucking ouch....(I cannot remember the 8 year old equivalent but I know now I would say fuck...but then.....?)

I had driven the knife into my thigh and up to the hilt of the knife.........I pulled it out....In shock (and bleeding profusely) I went inside the house......My mother was in the midst of bawling out my brother for some transgression or other....(First day of school often brought complex emotions, parents and kids on a collision course...our family was no different..)

I said..."Mom!".....the reply..."Not now can't you see I'm busy"....."Mom....I stabbed myself...!"

A gasp.....a piercing stare from the mumster......"Oh my god....you put a hole in your new stretch poly pants.....!!!! I cannot repair that kind of material....what the hell do you think you are doing...?

Apparently, to my mother.... the thought of me bleeding to death was usurped by the fact I had cut a hole in the pants against the bias of the fabric which meant it would be difficult if not impossible to repair....this of course did not even take into account the ever-growing blood stain......I should have been more considerate.....

"Why the hell did you stab yourself!?"........at this point in the incident it really shouldn't matter why I did it...just that I did do it....and to perhaps move on to Triage or immediate amputation.....but then again......one must explain to one's mother why you do stupid stuff.......why can't they just accept that certain actions are just stupid and leave it at that...why ask.......?....anyways....I answered...

"There was a dog over on Agnes Street and it was thinking about attacking Nibbles and I was going to have to defend Nibbles from the dog....."

"What....where is the dog now...?"

"The dog......?.....the dog is someplace......" ...this is a stock kid answer when a kid does not want to admit to the fact that a) he doesn't know where the dog is or b) The attacking dog only exists in his 8 year old mind.......which of course is the same as point a)....

I guess at this point any parent finally gives up on trying to get a reasonable explanantion for such actions...no answer suffices or explains why their kid is so stupid as to stab themselves over an imaginary dog....hmmmm....

"Ok...get in the damn car........Do you know how hard it is going to be to fix those pants...? Those pants were on sale at Sears and I cannot replace them....."...Now get in the car and try not to bleed on the carpet...."

NEWSFLASH: There is no such thing as Hell.....Party on Wayne...!

This may seem like a fruitless exercise but I am going to take the side that if there is a God...then there is no such thing as Hell......

My argument.

It seems to me that everyone who believes in God says "God is infinite"..."God is Everywhere"...."God loves me...I know...".."God....he loves a sinner..."

Alright...I'll accept that...I mean if you're going to have and believe in God then why not make him the best God you can get......( I think that should be a slogan for a Church....."Our God.....The best you can get.." )

Because we know that it is unlikely that God will send us a "Cease and Desist" letter to us for merely puffing up his powers......then why not make him a superhuman God...afterall.....he is superhuman....right..?

Anyways....If God is infinite in his love....then the following must be true.

1) Everyone....I mean everyone goes to Heaven....Hitler and Mother Teresa are up there right now....side by side....chatting in the line-up for the best buffet ever......Why not...? This God is infinite...right?

Well if he is infinite then he has forgiven everyone and has therefore admitted everyone to Heaven....If 1 person/soul is not in Heaven then the whole God is infinite and loving theory goes right out the fucking window......

Infinite means never ending......attach the words most commonly associated with the best of God...your God...or anybodies God.....loving, kind, forgiving, wise, etc .....and add the words never ending in front of any of them.........well....

Basically you have described a person or God that has only 1 way to look at things....(infinitely positive......kind of a God on a celestial Prozac buzz......)

Therefore.....If God loves, forgives.....EVERYONE...ALL OF THE TIME......then by definition.... all of us go to Heaven....

If everyone goes to Heaven........then why would Hell exist.....?

2) Anything else.....See point 1.

I only did Acid twice......or.....is this really my Mothers foot?

I only did Acid twice....ok...maybe 3 times but that was enough.....I was 15 the first time........they say the first time is always the best......for Acid this is probably true......for sex...not so much...the first time I had sex I was frightened.....perhaps because I was alone and in the dark....but hey...who wasn't....but I digress....

The first time I did Acid was with Mike Demontmerency.....Indian, as he was known was a very cool guy......He always seemed to have a handle on the situation.......which was comforting as I often did not.......

Where I grew up there was no teen club...no Wii, Internet or other such shit.....we had our own wits and wiles and a steady supply of drugs to entertain us in our formative years.......

One night, Indian asked me if I wanted to drop Acid.....Purple blotter micro-dot.....great name...not sure what the difference it was from Orange micro dot etc but hey....in for a penny...in for a pound...

Mike suggested I take half a hit....it was apparently good stuff....

We were hanging out at Marigold park in front of Kelly Fishers house.......just another Saturday night.....

We dropped the acid and about an hour later we were very high.........now, unless you have dropped acid in your life ....to describe an acid trip is a difficult thing....it is part intellectual.....and almost religious....... it makes you explore ideas and connections that the normal waking mind doesn't........it is also quite physical......you move like you always have but you feel like your movement is not being controlled in the normal manner.......hmmm......hard to explain...but in general......it is fun....thought provoking and an experience I am glad I had....

Now would I want my kids to try it....?....probably not.....don't know why I say that for sure......but I think they have enough on their plate without it....

However....After the first 3 or 4 hours on an acid trip it usually becomes apparent you will need to go home sooner or later and that you're unlikely to be be unstoned for oh...I don't know....a couple of days!

So about Midnight I headed home.....creeping in the back door .....the parents were asleep....bonus....I could sneak into my basement bedroom......crawl into bed and trip out......all good.....into the bedroom I go.... taking off my clothes........butt naked I climbed into bed and turned off the lights........whoa....soemthing was happening here......colours, radiating light...this was going to be wild........

It struck me as unlikely that I was going to sleep anytime soon........I will be awake for a while....hmmm........might as well enjoy this......

As a teen I had a stereo...I only say this as a note to understand that in 1975 a personal stereo was not a given....no I-pods or even a dumbassWalkmans....just a turntable, receiver and speakers...and if you were lucky....headphones....! ...Oh and albums....round 12 inch vinyl things that my kids look at now and wonder how music came from there....much as we look at a tiny I-pod and wonder how 2000 songs are inside........for free...?

I had headphones....so I could play an album and revel in my own Private Idaho..........what music to choose....hmm.....the only album that made any sense was Tommy by The Who......The Overture...The Acid Queen....Pinball Wizard....Perfect...!

I put on the headphones.....dropped the needle and listened.....the music was amazing......it seemed to become part of my body...the music was not only heard......but felt....

Side 1, side 2, side 3 and halfway through side 4.....all was good in the magic kingdom....except I had to pee.....

I hadn't counted on this........peeing was, under normal circumstances, a fairly routine endeavor....really nothing much to it.......but under Acid.......a whole new experience....

I got out of the bed and turned on the light....this was a mistake....my nakedness was glaring in its whiteness....Gawd I was white...I looked like the underside of a Beluga whale...all white and puffy....and did I mention naked....not easy to comprehend while seriously stoned...

Ok...I can handle this....I can pee....ok....gotta get some clothes on.....picked up the shirt that was lying on the floor and immediately was fascinated with its design and patterns....ok....can't put this on.....pants...yeah the pants......one leg in......ok...now balance on one leg and lift the other to put in the other leg of the jeans.......hmmm...not going to happen....

Ok......forget the clothes....what time is it....3 a.m. !...ok, ok, ok....I know.....the parents will be asleep......so if I am really quiet I should be able to get upstairs without waking them......then open the door at the top of the stairs....and ....and ...and get down the dark hallway to the bathroom.......

So I snuck like a thief to the top of the stairs......ever so stealthily I opened the door........In the silence....in my nakedness....and in myotherworldly state of mind.....the darkness of the hallway leading to the bathroom became a roadblock....what if I stumble....?....go in the wrong door.......? what happens if I overshoot the bathroom and end up in the sewing room and get caught in there by my Mom........? stark naked amongst the fabric swatches........I could foresee trouble....

ok....I know what....brilliant....I am fucking brilliant.....I know what I will do...I will get on my hands and knees.....shuffle down the carpeted hallway....the first doorway on the left is the linen closet......don't want to pee in there....but the second doorway leads to the bathroom....that's where I want to go.......

So I crouched down and onto all fours.......I started to shuffle down the hallway....my left hand feeling the edge of the wall....for some reason I was reminded of Patty Duke in the Hellen Keller story...almost spasmodic in my hand action...but I guess effective......ok....back on the plan...

ok...1st door...perfect Linen closet....don't want to go in there.......feel the wall, feel the wall....getting close...on all fours...naked...middle of the night....almost about to touch the bathroom door jam.....touch, touch touch.....soft.....fleshy...boney......I was feeling someones foot.....Oh my Gawd.....a foot....click!!...the hall light goes on and there I am naked on all floors, 3 in morning and I am touching my mothers foot....!

"What the hell are you doing..." She shrieks......ok...gotta think fast on this one....can't really stand up and talk my way out of this...can't really just stay here either.....ok....think...think....ok..bathroom dorr......open.....leap....

Like a Springbok I made a leap into the open bathroom door....closing it behind me and locking it....the bathroom light blazing...I was staring into the mirror....freaking out....

My mother was on the other side of the bathroom door...screeching..." Why were you in all fours and naked in the hallway....do you know its 3 in the morning......what the hell are you doing...?"

I was at a loss for a good excuse.....hadn't anticipated this scenario.......

"I had to pee...."...partly true....would she buy it........"Why were you naked on your hands and knees...?".....

Umm...think...think....." Didn't want to wake you...."

Silence from the other side...........she was stumped on that one.......

Now I knew she was a cagey old bird....she may have momentarily been stunned into silence but she was definitely not going back to bed without eyeballing me up........I can't very well just waltz out there naked and chat her up.....

Peach bath towels.......fucking Peach colored bath towels..!.....it'll have to do......ok...wrap it around my waist....just like James Bond coming out of the shower to eyeball up his latest conquest except....different....I was wrapped in a fucking Peach colored towel...stoned on Acid...at 3 a.m.....and was going to open the door to talk with my mother...the mongrel dwarf....clad from head to toe in flannel......not quite like JB...

Ok.....open the door.....confront the dwarf....ok...the Momster....ok...Mom....." ..casual now...don't blow it....(not that I hadn't already...)

"hey.....how are you..." that seems casual.....

"What the hell are you up to?"........ummm......." I had to pee...."...

"Why are you without clothes...?".......hmmm......that was a good question.....best plan of attack....say nothing.....so that's what I did....got out the door...said I had to pee...was asked a question and stood stone still....and unable to speak..........would this tactic work......

She was again stunned........"Ok....go to bed....."......I did......"Night I said...."

"Night........"

My 2nd Acid trip...or...Is 1 arm longer than the other...?

I really don't want to sound like some drugged out freak....as I am not....but back in the mid 70's everyone did drugs....the jocks, the geeks, nerd, brainiacs, dweebs, heads, freaks etc.....In my high school it was simply easier to count those who didn't do drugs than did.......

Its funny....30 years later as we do grad alumnae surveys the number of successful people who did drugs back then is staggering.......at the latest class reunion it was discovered we had the highest per capita rate of gynecologists in any high school........anywhere.....amazing...

Anyways......we all smoked Pot at the very least....and occasionally got to trip out on other stuff........we did not do that crazy stuff like Meth or Crack......that came 10 years after our experimentation's......we were more ....purists...

But I digress......my story as true as it is may sound a little unbelievable but just for my sake....just accept this as fact.....please.

Mike Graff was one of my running buddies.....He was always a little out of step with the rest of us....not in a bad way necessarily.......he was the first to get a car......and by age 17 he was on his own and renting a house over on the Pat Bay Highway........

As was the case....the first house to be rented became the party house and it was not unusual for a group of us to end up at Graff's.

One Saturday night we had a Rager......Ray Lasell and I teamed up to go to Graffs.......In our collective wisdom Ray and I decided to drop Acid.....getting to the party we found it in full swing....full swing as only teenagers can do it.....( I am now a father of teenage girls.....should I be afraid..?) .......parties like that only happen when you're young.....with youth there is an unbridled enthusiasm for all things new.....drinking, drugs, chasing girls, not catching them, yelling, talking loud, music.........As an adult, todays parties tend to center around talks about stock holdings...how much so and so lost to Bernie Madoff.....The kids.....parties are just not that much fun anymore.....today I come home from a party and say..."That was fun....?.".....as a teenager...You KNEW you were having fun......

This particular night there was a guy there who I did not like.....now...I am not one to dislike people.....I have very few enemies...if any....and I don't even know who they are.......that's how little I worry about it....but then...it seemed that everything was.......hmmm.....more important.......more raw........more in your face....anyways...the guys name was Robin Gray....or as he was unaffectionately known as.... "Sarge".....a sawed off little twerp .....he liked to drink Molsons..........this may account for the social chasm we had........

The party was in full swing....I and pretty much everyone around me was very high on Acid.......we were listening to The Beatles White Album....now, The Beatles......let me say this about them.....way fucking overblown....I am sorry.....Some great early stuff, some great pieces here and there...but a lot of dreck....shit that wouldn't have stood the test of time had it not been a Beatles song......as far as I am concerned....they killed the wrong Beatle......Paul vs. John school of thought.....is it wrong to think that...?

But...that night we were listening to The Beatles White album.........amazing that as a kid high on Acid that we could concentrate on every musical nuance and sweeping theme of The White Album while other teens around us were hurling their cookies and stumbling blind into the nearest wall......

Right in the middle of one of the White Albums best themes....errrrchz.....the unmistakable sound of someone removing the tone arm off a record and then taking the record off....What the Fuck....what asshole did that....doesn't he know we are high on Acid....then a new album dropped....."Wouldn't it be nice if we could grow up, then we wouldn't have to wait so long...."...Fuck...the fucking Beach Boys....I hate the fucking beach boys......what moron took off the Beatles for the fucking Beach Boys...." Oh wouldn't it be nice...da da da..."...

I got up and bee-lined for the stereo......who was holding The White Album in his undoubtedly greasy Peanut Butter encrusted paws...Sarge......!... " Sarge what the hell are you doing...?" I barked....."

"Putting on the Beach Boys.......I hate the Beatles.....".........

"You....are a Fuckwad...." was all I could say.....Now Fuckwad was our version of a triple dog dare you.......basically when you called someone a Fuckwad it meant that your impugning his manhood.....in a sense telling the Fuckwad recipient that you thought he was probably hung like a hamster and at the same time....besmirching his closest relatives....basically saying that it was common knowledge amongst his peers that his mother regularly sucked off Sailors for a pack of Export "A"'s.......

"Them's fighting words..." Sarge bellowed....."....I am not sure he said Them's fighting words....I have re-runs of the Beverly Hillbillies running in the background on TV as I write this so I could be influenced........but whatever he did say at the time was the 70's version of thems fighting words.......

"That's it'''" I said.....let's fight......!" (who says that...? )

Now it must be understood that I had never ever been in a fist fight in my life and have never ever been in one since that night......I have no clue as to how to throw a punch ...no idea what was and was not fair in a fight........Can you kick him in the Nether Knackers or is that being a bad sport...?....Can I pull hair or is that unmanly...? All of these rules and nuances escaped me.....I was a Fight Neophyte....

Sarge headed out the back door with me right behind him.......Now the crazy thing about teenage fights is that everyone immediately gets in a circle around the soon-to-be combatants....it must be something primeval....Cavemen for millions of years must have duked it out over the last Stegosaurus Steak with all of their cavemen buddies getting in a circle around them to cheer them on.....it happens so fast and so naturally.........Did Darwin ever explore this phenomenon...?

Sarge was heading out the door......with me directly behind him....he turned to say something and as he did I drifted him in the head with my left fist....now I am right handed.....my left is only familiar to me as a hand used for spicing up my own self-love from time to time....it has no co-ordination....no real calling in life......its the left hand for crissakes....anyways......why I lead with a left hook is still to this day unknown....but I did.......I popped him in the side of the head....he went down a sack of crap and my left continued off into space......I felt something ........but....

Sarge hit the ground......I was on him like a fat kid is on a Smartie......we rolled around cussing and swearing, gouging and grappling......I had him in a headlock........perfect I thought.....his head, squeezed by my right arm was turning red.....it looked like a wood tick under your skin that was being squeezed between 2 fingers and ready to pop......

I had him.........my free hand was my left and I commanded my brain to command my left fist to pummel this Fuckwad........nothing...it would not budge....huh...?....I had him down for the count and the best shot I had was now refusing to cooperate.........At the same time I also felt a numbing pain in my shoulder.......

As in all good fights there is someone bigger, more experience and respected as a better brawler who eventually breaks up the fight........Mike Duch grabbed both of us and pulled us apart......now Duch was not the guy to tangle with........I had never actually seen him in a fight but it was widely reported that he had actually killed a kid with a spitball......whether this was true or not ...mattered not....it was the thought that he coulddo this ......that gave him the respect as someone not to be fucked with.....

We stood up.......well...Sarge stood up....I tried to stand but the left hand and arm did not help me......I felt like a fish in the bottom of the boat...flailing helplessly...Duch grabbed me by the collar and yanked me up......

I staggered back into the house.....my shoulder...a dull throb.....

Coming into the kitchen....I ran into Ray......." Hey Ray...did you see that..?"

"yeah...what a Fuckwad...!"....I agreed....."Hey Ray....Does my shoulder look funny to you...?"

"Stand up straight" he said......."I am...." I said......

If I was indeed standing up straight why was it that I could scratch my left knee without bending over......?....Shit.....I had done something......now done something is a universal euphemism for saying....I have fucked up...in fact saying........I have fucked up so badly that I don't even know what I have done......But...I know I have done something.......and that something is not going to be good......Yes...I had fucked up....I had done something......

Now when you do something......you must throw out a call for a lifeline.....who....? what's the problem...who's the fixer.....shit....I am going to have to call my Dad..........Dad's are good for this sort of thing...Mom's not so much...

Mom's get all preachy and shrieky....."I told you this would happen..."!!! ....?

Really ...? I don't remember that lecture...which one Mom....the lecture warning about getting too stoned to know that I am being an idiot and picking a fight with a drunken twerp ... where I dislocate my left shoulder in an effort to pummel said twerp.....oh that lecture...? Nope...don't remember that one.....

But Mom's do..." Oh yes MISTER....I told you all about that......You just didn't listen...that's all....!..I KNEW this would happen!..."

This of course, is the classic guilt end run where Mom's always win....they throw out the blanket... I told you so...... just when you're least able to adequately defend yourself.....when you have no strength of position to argue with her....after all.... you are stoned out of your gourd and in severe pain with a dislocated shoulder.......the chances of a successfully mounting a counterattack against this time tested Mom approved guilt trip is slim to none...and slim has just left town.......

I picked up the phone........" Dad......I think I've done something....." trying to sound as helpless and hapless as possible..."

"Where are you...?" he said with slightly defeated tone...... I, being the youngest in the family guess that my father had been called to many a scene by the older siblings.......I am sure this was not the worst or even the most unusual was my guess....

"I'm at Mike's house..."

"I'll be right over...." and he hung up the phone......

20 minutes ticked by.......now the shoulder was really starting to hurt......Acid or no Acid this was not going to be good....

A knock on the door...I opened it and slipped out ...face to face with my Dad......"What the hell happened..?"

"Well....I was helping Mike with his homework and I got up to get a drink of water and slipped on the wet floor....while I was falling I grabbed the countertop.....but on the way down to the floor my arm twisted and then I heard a pop and it really hurts...."

"You're stoned aren't you...?' he said.....

"ummm...pretty much..."

"Get into the car...!"......Now get into the car is a common Dadism......its not the guilt thing...its just what Dad's say when they are pissed at you for doing something.....they just don't know what else to say...so they say..." Get into the car...!"

I got in.......off to the hospital emergency ward.....

Saturday night....the emerg was in full swing.......car wreck victims and ambulance attendants...nurses, doctors, wailing babies......not a peaceful place.....

They took my name and info...Dad standing there glaring at me....they then escorted me into an examination room and then up for an X-Ray.......an hour later...."Yup....you have dislocated your shoulder"....the young intern said......."that's got to hurt?"

Ya think.......

"Well John....we are really booked up for at least a couple of hours so what we will do is give you a shot of Pethidine...its a synthetic Morphine that will take away the pain......."

Shit ...I thought....I am already stoned........maybe I will OD....maybe it will be a bad trip and I'll freak out....I better come clean with the Doc....

" Ummmm.....I have a confession....I, ah...I, ah...dropped Acid tonight..."

The Doctor gave a broad grin..."Oh...you're gonna have a good time then....."

Huh....? Within seconds a vein was found and a syringe slipped into the vein....at first ...drawing out blood then plunging in the Pethidine........

I slipped into a near comatose state........

For nearly an hour I lay on a gurney in the hallway waiting for his return in order to patch me up......at the time I was reading The Lord of the Rings series........my mind was absolutely in a state of bliss......ok....maybe not real bliss....but feeling pretty good.....

I started to hallucinate and saw little Frodo's and Bilbo's dancing down the hallway.....I started to talk to them.....all of which seemed logical to me......

I sensed people (real ones) walking by me and chuckling.....Nurses, attendants...all chuckling to themselves....I could only imagine their thoughts...." Oh great another retard to deal with...."....

another hour went by and the attending Doctor finally came back.....

"Ok.....John...we are going to snap your shoulder back into the socket....this is going to hurt but we have no other option.....I want you to hold onto the gurneys side as tight as you can and I will pop this back in...ok...?"

I grabbed....he grunted.....in it went........I felt nothing.......

They bandaged me up and handed me back to my father......it was getting close to dawn....oh shit....Mom would be up......

We drove down the street to my house just as the sun was rising in the east.....(where else would it rise...duh..?"

I could see on the porch my Mother.......she was wearing her silver Marge Simpson wig which was all the rage at the time.......her arms across her chest.......fuming......

I could see this was not going to be pleasant....thank god I was ripped........hmmm...I should say something pleasant and beguiling....I know...! I gingerly got out of the car........" Hey Mom....look..I am legally stoned...!"

Now why I ever thought this would be the best thing to say still eludes me......but it was what I said......

Its Only Rock and Roll.....

Much of my youth and early adulthood was spent playing in rock bands....I was the bass player and singer..... this was of course a recipe for trouble....

My first few bands were formed with my best friend...Victor Zupanc...

Victor is one of those unique people who is both crazed on the one side and the parents wet dream child on the other.......Victor has his Masters in Music composition and went through school with straight A's....he was also the craziest person I have yet to meet.....

When Victor was attending University for music we had a popular local band called The Tumours....long before political correctness took such a firm hold on society a name like The Tumours was seen as being.....well...rather snappy....Our motto was "They'll grow on you..."

Victor was in the final year of his 4 year bachelor program and life for him was tense....always the perfectionist, Victor was under a lot of pressure to make his final grades... superb....

At the same time as all of the above we had just finished recording the last album of The Tumours.....tracks had been surreptitiously recorded at the University's new million dollar studio....today the capabilities of that studio would fit on your I-pod but back in 80's these were world class facilities....and facilities that were definitely not for the use of Rock Bands.....that being said....

Victor was always one to play as close to the edge as anyone I knew.......night after night we snuck into the studio after the building was closed up...Victor would hide in the men's washroom until the security guard had locked up then he would come to the door at 1 a.m. and let us in.......to do this, we were definitely breaking laws.......

This B&E'ing went on for about 7 nights as we mixed down the tracks, overdubbed and did vocals....

On about the 6th night Victor was in the studio alone by himself when a Prof came in to use the studio...finding Victor madly mixing away rock music at about 100 Decibels the Prof was shocked and outraged.....the next day.......Victor was called up before the faculty board of the Music Department and summarily and in no uncertain terms told that NO MORE ROCK AND ROLL in the Universities studio or immediate dismissal would be possible.....

That next night, Victor and I got together to discuss the state of the unfinished album/tapes....he was panic stricken.....afraid that he would get tossed from the school.... Victor did not want to risk going back in the studio.....

I, on the other hand, had nothing to lose......so I lobbied Victor hard to risk just 1 more night to go in there and wrap it up....my lobbying took a few days but finally Victor caved..... ( I could usually get him to do so.....:)

"Ok" he said..."but we do one night....Midnight to Dawn and we get it all done...I am scared shitless and I can only risk it one more time....ok?"

I nodded approval.......

That night, Victor hid in the men's washroom as usual.....the midnight tour of the guard took place and as planned at 12:15 a.m. he opened up the school's studio doors and snuck us in.......I had my girlfriend, Barb, in tow......

Now ....one would think that with everything academic on the line a guy like Victor would play it as safe as humanly possible....no noise, keep the place clean......

But this was not Victor's style......I think it is possible that Victor had some oddly formed death wish.........when faced with a challenge .....Victor...one of the safest, most respectful people on the planet will always opt for the most ridiculous solution....

Case in point....

Into the studio we go, Victor me and Barb.....once inside Victor pulls out a gallon jug of homemade wine and 2 fat reefers....."Well....If I'm going get the boot" he says...."I am going out in style...!"

The wine flowed, the tape rolled, the sounds were being mixed and we were having a great time....

at around 3 a.m. Barb excused herself to go to the washroom....we barely missed her.....we were creating...!!...........right in the middle of a toke and about our 3rd or 4th glass of wine....the inner door to the studio creaked open ever so slowly.....

We looked up through the smokey haze of the pot filled studio ...thinking Barb would be walking back in....but no....it was a 60 year-old security guard....

He opened the door....we could tell he was afraid.....but he also knew he had a job to do.....he cautiously eyeballed me and Victor ........5 seconds of silence...the guard spoke..." Does either of you know a tall Blonde girl...?"

Both of us in unison......." a Blonde girl...? Nope...no Blonde girl......nope..we've never ever known one..."........stony silence all around....

I am sure that even the old guard knew this had to be wrong....afterall he did not just make up the whole "anybody know a blonde girl thing...."..........obviously he had caught Barb wandering the hall looking for the washroom.......surely she would have blabbed....he must think we are retards.....he was also sniffing the air and eyeing the open wine jug.....he could also be thinking we are drug addled break in artists........It was not looking good......I am sure if he had a Taser back then he would have Tasered us both........instead...he just jangled his 4 lb ring of keys......still the stony silence persisted...

Then Victor piped up..." A Blonde girl....oh yeah...a Blonde girl...sure we know a Blonde girl.....she's about this high...." holding his hand shoulder high.........(like there were other Blonde girls of various heights to be found wandering the halls...)

Stony silence hung in the room.......Victor broke it..." Yeah she's his girlfriend...." Pointing at me....

"Who are you ?" said the guard

Before I could answer, Victor spoke..." This is professor Graham...he's my faculty advisor...."

Now...at age 20...I did not look like any Prof I knew.....Even if I had been some boy genius graduating high school at age 12 I was still unlikely to pass the Professorial type........still...

"Well the police have the Blonde girl in the car outside and she seems a bit confused..." said the Guard....." we better go speak to the cops.."

"Of course " I said....standing up.......

As I walked to the door and the cops outside I was thinking this was it.....we were going to be arrested, break and enter, mischief, impersonating a Professor.....we were toast....and Victor was about to be expelled....

I followed the guard outside....there were 2 cop cars....lights flashing, radios crackling in the night air........I was in the lead with the guard at my heels.....

As we approached the cars....I could see Barb sitting in the backseat......the cops speaking to her....she was gesticulating wildly....this could not be good....

I spoke up as strongly as I could...."ahem...She's with me.." I said....the cop turned...."And who are you...?"

Before I could answer, the guard who was behind me piped up..." Its okay...Its professor Graham...."......

The cops bought it...hook , line and sinker........they released Barb into my "custody"......

The guard then let us back into the music studio where we found Victor trembling in fear......he knew he was toast.....

We continued our work and finished the album....as dawn broke we were about to leave....Victor feeling like he was going to go down with the ship decided he might as well make a final statement......."hey" said to me..."give me a hand..."......just before we left the building we grabbed one of the upright pianos from the studio, wheeled it out into the hall and then wheeled it into the women's washroom...." There.." He said......" That I'll show them....."

Victor did not get suspended and graduated with honours........will wonders ever cease..........

Its only Rock and Roll ...Part Deux

I have always had a lucky streak.....that and a pinch of bullshit as my mother used to say....got my in and out of many situations.......in the early 80's I moved to Vancouver to be a working musician....

I played 6 nights a week in an "A" room club band...Aside from being the singer and bass player I did all of my bands booking business.....We were represented by the Feldman Agency which was, and still is, Canada's most powerful agency and management house.

As a result of working in a Feldman band when an agent position became available.....(which happened only about once every 3-4 years...) I lobbied hard for the job........I got the job....... it was a plum position.....

The Agency was co-owned by 2 people, Sam Feldman and Bruce Allen......Sam and Bruce had had a huge falling out about 3 years earlier with Sam making a midnight move from Bruce with the result being that Sam and Bruce were now in warring camps ......except that they were still joined both financially and legally at the hip.....its was akin to Diego Rivera and Frieda......living in separate houses joined by a bridge......fighting yet never quite able to get away from each other.........as the years have past, they have both become ridiculously wealthy...and I understand they have mellowed in the dotage.....

I had been working for Sam all of about 5 months and at 23 years of age was by far and away the youngest agent.......on this particular day all of the head guys were out of town....Shaw was in Toronto, Rob was on holidays and Sam was skiing on Blackcomb.....

The offices were a very intimate setting .....each of us working in a French door enclosed office that opened up to a small common area......as a result you could hear everything that went on in each others world.....when an agent was fighting for or with a band or a dispute took place between agents the whole of the office knew about it.....in a way it was very much a group therapy type of situation......

It was in this setting that the following happened........

It was late in the morning and as I said all the main guys..(Jews...yes Jews...they run the music business.....I know this sounds racist but it is true and quite possibly there is a law that all music business people must be Jewish...) were away for the day.......

Harry Wanstall, our 65 year old accountant had his office about 15 feet directly in front of mine.....Harry was the ideal of an accountant....old, cautious, thinning hair and wore a Cardigan ....seldom did I ever hear Harry speak let alone raise his voice......

That morning I hear him quite clearly.....I heard a few brusque words and then he slammed the phone back into its cradle.......my ears perked up.....what was that all about .....?....I wondered...

Kim Blake, our receptionist, called out to Harry...."Harry....Bruce (Allen) is on the line again and he sounds really pissed that you hung up on him..."

My ears really perked up........I heard Harry pick up the phone and yell into it....." I don't care who you think you are, I will not sign a cheque for you while Sam is out of the office......." Slam....down goes the receiver...... !

This cannot be a good thing.....even though Harry was Sam's accountant he was technically both Sam and Bruce's employee.......Bruce was also known as bit of a wildman.......the kind to throw chairs, fits and punches when he did not get things to go his way.......

Kim yelled out again......."Harry..... Bruce is screaming at me....he sounds like he is frothing......I think he's saying that Crystal and Chu-Chu are on their way here.....I think this is serious Harry.....he sounds like he's spitting..."

Tension mounted amongst the few remaining office staff.......added to this was my excitement that I might finally get to meet Bruce.....(What was I thinking...?...nice timing...)....within minutes in stormed Crystal and Chu-Chu.......C an CC were Bruce's right arms.....both were unattractive rather mannish looking women .........Chu Chu, a little tank of a Polynesian woman....5 foot nothing and 170 lbs...had a slight hint of an upper lip moustache.......... while Crystal was tall...more of the Praying Mantis type....both, very scary.........In they marched.....planting themselves right at Harry's doorstep......about 10 feet from where I sat.......

" Write the cheque Harry" Chu Chu shrieked...." Write the goddamn cheque...!" ....Harry....all of a sudden unusually alert, rose to his feet....." I will not write the cheque without Sam's consent...and he's not here...!"

Crystal spoke...." Harry if you don't write the fucking cheque...Bruce is going to come down here....and let me tell you...you don't want Bruce here...now do you Harry?"........

"Screw him and the horse he rode in on..!"....this came from Harry....? Harry had never said anything unkind or even out loud......Harry was Clarke Kent...only older......the phone rang again......Kim answered.....

"Chu Chu....Bruce is on the line and wants to talk to you..."....Kim passed off the handset to Chu Chu....holding it like it was covered in the Ebola virus.....

" Yup....uh huh...that's right....Harry is right here and he refuses to write the cheque.....yup...uh huh...I told him and he won't listen....Bruce...he's gone crazy.......you want to talk to him...okay....Harry!....talk to Bruce....." She passed off the receiver to Harry....

Harry was now standing in front of his office......him, Chu Chu and Crystal all jostling each other a little .....I noticed that Harry was holding his coffee mug in his left hand, his thinning grey hair slicked back and his horn rimmed glasses perched on his bird like nose......He appeared to be wearing a Letterman sweater with a big C on the pocket....he looked like an extra off of the Happy Days TV series......

He took the phone from Chu Chu with a certain air of disdain....

" I will not write you a cheque......!!!" down he slammed the phone onto the receiver, knocking the whole phone out of Chu Chu's chubby little hands......

" Harry.......!! She screamed......they then started to push each other around....okay I thought....this is getting really weird.......we have a dwarf like Fijian with upper lip hair, a gangling Ichabod Crane woman and a 65 year old Richie Cunningham all pushing each other around....snarling and cussing like dogs do before a fight.......

That day...there was only 5 or 6 of us in the office at the time...Kim Blake, myself, Harry, Lenny, Denise Donlon who went onto become head of Sony Canada and CBC radio and Marty the Gay (not that there's anything wrong with that..) assistant accountant.....

In what seemed an impossibly short time I could hear someone striding up the stairs..... 3 steps at a time...the office door being flung open and Kim Blake shouted.... "Bruce is here!"...

In he strode......shit kicking cowboy boots on his feet, wearing a well worn leather jacket and sporting a number of large veins that were popping out of his forehead......So this was Bruce I thought.....hmmm...I wonder if I will get to introduce myself.......(What was I thinking...?)

He planted himself in front of Harry.....Chu Chu, Crystal and now Denise Donlon standing between the 2......Harry and Bruce...

" Write the fucking cheque you old fucking fart" Bruce bellowed......

" Go to hell..." said Harry...."I will not write the cheque to you....asshole!"....huh?...Did Harry just call Bruce an asshole...? Bruce is 25 years younger than Harry and my guess ...Bruce is a whole lot faster....what kind of senior moment was Harry having....?

Bruce bellowed back....."You're just pissed off 'cause I fired you're no good flaky son.......Rocket!!!" .... Harry's son had worked for Bruce and Bruce had fired Rocket....Rocket was a little flaky...but hey....what parent wants to hear that....?

Harry barked back...." If I was 20 years younger...I would hit you...!" and then it happened....Harry dropped his coffee mug, spilling coffee everywhere, he then reached across the 3 women in between himself and Bruce and threw a drifting right clipping Bruce on the side of the head.....

Oh shit.......I thought.....then all hell broke loose...Bruce tried to punch Harry....Denise screamed out......"Don't Bruce he's an old man!" and then all of them fell over into one big dogpile right in front of my office door.....a mass of humanity all kicking, clawing, screaming.......

Brrrring, Brrrring.....my personal office phone line rang.....this was my super secret number....I picked it up reflexively......."Hello".....

" Slab...." (my nickname at the time)...." You should be up here...its a beautiful day to ski...."...Oh fuck...Sam was calling me from the ski hill .....and he is having a great day while right in front of me his estranged business partner, his aging accountant and 3 women were all wrestling on the floor....

"Slab...! What's that noise...?'

"Um....well Bruce is here and Harry just punched him and now Bruce and Harry and Denise and Chu Chu and Crystal are ...well....fighting...."

" Get Bruce on the phone....!"

" Bruce..." I held out the receiver to writing dogpile in front of me........" Sam's on the line...."....

Bruce snatched the phone from my hand........he looked at me as if I was a bug......

Putting the receiver as tightly to his ear as humanly possible, his veins a poppin'.... he screamed and spat out his only words...." I don't care what it takes....He's out of here...!" he hands me back the phone...and storms out of the office.....I made a mental note to wash the phone receiver....

...."Sam...?' I said.....

" Slab...what happened...?" I gave Sam the 20 second synopsis...."Slab.....gather everyone together and tell them that if anyone says anything about this, they will all be fired......got it...?!"

"Yes Sam....."....I hung up.........the office was eerily quiet.......

Not long after, Harry retired........We were told he had planned this for some time........hmmmm.....

The Big Sizzle......or ...can a penis have a near death experience..?

Now I am not overly endowed in the manthing department......nor am I left wanting in said department.....basically....I have a good sized, utilitarian type of Scottish penis.........not long and skinny but more stout and happy.....

Why do I bring this up.....? Well it reminds me of its near death experience.........

I was 26 and working in the music business for Sam Feldman.......Sam was/is a great guy and was always one to extend his largesse to his friends.....when Sam would go out of town he would often ask if I wanted to stay in his house.......

Sam's house was palatial.....great view of the city, Sauna, Hot Tub.....all the cool things that a 26 year old could ever want....along with the house usually came use of the Mercedes 450 SL.......all of this tied into my good utilitarian Scottish penis made me, at least for a short while, a veritable chick magnet......

On one of the occasions I got to run the roost at Sam's house I invited over a girlfriend.......she was a little shy...but after a bottle of wine and a little coaxing we were starting to get into the throws of romance.....

I suggested we take a break and go have a Sauna......we went downstairs to the Sauna room, cranked up the heat and continued to make out.......It started to get hot in there....very hot.......but my ardour was up .....as was my workman-like penis....

We were shagging.....sweating like rams in a coital frenzy....(Not that I would have a clue what that would be like but hey it sounds interesting...)

In fact it was getting too hot in the sauna....way too hot.....I suggested we go up stairs to relax and finish off our highly charged lovemaking...(sounds like something you would find in a ...Dear Penthouse.......)

She left the Sauna room and I followed behind......before I went upstairs though I remember Sam's words...."Always make sure the Sauna is turned off after use..."...

I went back into the Sauna and looked for the shut off switch...there...against the wall....I leaned over the Sauna heater to reach the switch.....however.... I forgot that I was still sporting wood.....

SSSSZZZZ......My penis hit the side of the Sauna heater.....a heater which was somewhere close to 280 degrees......the sound of my penis hitting the Sauna heater is one I will never forget...it was like a pork sausage hitting a super hot grill......the flesh of the head of my penis sizzling on the metal....the penis was slightly stuck to the shiny metal surface....I pulled away in excrutiating pain........a 50 cent sized burn now shone brightly on the head of my penis..... Yow...Fuck...Owwwww...... I hopped in pain....wanting to grab my penis but knowing that to do so may only make things worse.....I continued to hop.....Ow.....Ow, Ow, ow.....My date came scrambling back downstairs to see what the commotion was...


"Oh dear..." she said....

"You think!"...I bellowed..." This FUCKING hurts like hell!!.."

"We better get you to the hospital"...she said....

?...are you kidding me....I thought....."And what would I tell them...? Hmmmm...?"..."That I burnt the head of my penis on a Sauna heater....!"?

A moment of stunned silence occupied the room.....all the while I hopped from foot to foot....making a shuh sound as I sucked air in through my clenched teeth....

"I know!"...I said.......Polysporin....!

The ultimate in home burn repair.........She dashed upstairs to the nearest bathroom and began to rummage through the medicine cabinet....I more or less gingerly climbed the stairs...1 hand on the railing, 1 holding my penis shaft so it wouldn't swing into my legs and both of my legs spread as far apart as possible to give the patient some room....

Just as I got to the top of the stairs my date appeared with a tube of Polysporin.....


"Here...let me put this one..."......Now I am not squeamish about intimacy but there are times a man has to take matters into his own hands...so to speak...

"I think not...." I said....grimacing hard....

I took the tube and squeazed out a dollop.......ever so gingerly I let the sauve land on the burn......Yowch....I screemed...."It fucking hurts..!"....

Perhaps the understatement of my life.....

Over the next 5 minutes....Polysporin was gently applied to all areas of the burn....I then thought...hmmm...I should protect this burn from the elements.....I grabbed a sheet of bathroom tissue and applied it to the gooey burn...it stuck to the penis....the white sheet of tissue hung from my donk like a sad flag of surrender....

Still butt naked, both of us retired to the relative comfort of the living room.....

I contemplated what to do next, while the date wondered what all of this meant.......

After an hour I realized I had to pee......I hadn't really thought about this...hmmm.....so I got up and wandered into the nearest water closet.....the wc was located in an odd place....right at the end of the main entrance of the front door....thankfully Sam was not expected home for another few days.....

I removed the tissue and fearfully started to pee.......ouch, ouch, ouch........it burns....ouch...fucking ouch....

Oh....relief....finally......I took a moment to reapply the Polysporin and attach a new tissue.....

I flushed and then opened the WC door.....

5 feet in front of me were 2 of Sam's best friends...Bucky from Newfoundland...and Bill Race......one of Vancouvers preeminent club owners.....

They stared at me .......and stared at me......I stood there unable to move...or even hop.......

Bill spoke up......" Wow Slab.....what happened.....?"

I really couldn't answer that one...not even to myself......I stood silent.....

Bucky then spoke...." We won't tell Sam any of this....we promise....."

" What are you 2 doing here...?"... I managed to say...I was trying to be calm , cool and collected ....all the while I stood buck naked, a 50 cent piece sized burn on my penis with a sheaf of white toilet tissue glued to its head.....

Silence......

"We just came to pick up some golf clubs for Bucky..." Bill offered up.....

Silence...again.....

"Ok....I said..." pretending to not be naked...." Go ahead...."...... at the same moment I could hear my date in the other room leap behind the couch...she, not wanting to be caught naked....

The 2 of them looked towards the living room obviously hearing the commotion...."You alone...?" said Bucky.....

"Um....more of less....The clubs are in the trunk of the car....trunks open....."

All 3 of us stood still.....awkward.....!...."OK....you enjoy the evening" said Bill....they then turned and left........

Oh shit I thought......this does not look good....

For the next few days I could only wear gym shorts to work......it was a casual office atmosphere but it was also a curious one......I got few questions about my unusual attire....all of which I avoided.....

The following Monday Sam returned from his travels......He called me into his office........" So...."..he said....."how was the house.."......and before he could finish the sentence he burst out in laughter.........I guess Bucky and Bill must have not kept their promise........

Ouch