The beginning of a blog, I am over fifty, this is something new so I apologize in advance for the newbie clumsiness.
Before I get to the new stuff I think its important to give you the back story, the who is he, where did he come from sort of thing.
Born the first son of a lawyer and a school teacher, the lawyer demanding and semi distant, the teacher, passive aggressive in light of the lawyers strength of personality and personal insecurity's, other than than not a bad childhood, not privileged but comfortable not a genius but smart enough to fool those that weren't. Despite being the first and only son with two younger sisters I was placed in the position of constantly trying to prove myself to my father, while forced into the job of being my mother's confidant in the face of of her frustrations caused by the fact that passive aggressive doesn't matter to someone that has an overdeveloped sense of self entitlement.
I won't go into the childhood, it was average or just below, money while not thrown around was never an issue or at least from a kid's perspective, we always had what we needed and most of what we wanted but with depression era parents nothing was easy or free. School was the usual, always one of those kids on the cusp, start the first couple of days in the average class, moved to the bottom of the advanced class, just enough gab to make the cut. Always sounded smarter than I was, able to answer the question while the gifted kid dealt with his shyness and fear.
While thinking about the previous few paragraphs I was tempted to cut to high school, that bastion of adolescent terror and hormones, but in thinking about it the basics start in Grade Six, scary that the foundation of a life starts so early but as you will see dear reader decisions made then haunt me and set me on a path that has led me to the now, the crossroads so to speak.
Ok, Grade 6, not generally considered the the birthplace of the future but in my case, in its way, the beginning of the end or optimistically the middle. You see, decisions were made in Grade 6 and events happened that shaped my path whether by coincidence or design. First off, this is when people begin to ask you what you want to be, what you want to do with your life, kind of silly I know since back then the only thing I knew for sure is that I wanted a slot car set for Christmas, nevertheless the question was asked and I answered, I wanted to be a lawyer like my Dad.
So, you say, you wanted to be like your Dad, the one individual you were trying to please, big deal, what a surprise, you were in Grade 6, you could have said fireman, astronaut, who cares, aaah my friend you would normally be right, but as I think back on in it, in the light of the present, I heard a click, like a door locking as it closes, unnoticed but an irrevocably closed door just the same. When you go to a small school in a small town with kids that you will see every school day for years to come, people remember, they assume and its easier to let them, meet their expectations and walk the road always feeling you can take the next turn off whenever it comes, laziness and acceptance is an easy road to walk, it requires nothing but a nod and a smile.
Suffice it to say an immature, easy decision set events in motion that if you put up with these ramblings long enough you will see was and is in fact the beginning. Grade 6 held other milestones that illustrate the now.
I was, much to my quiet pride voted Master Courtesy by the teachers and students, a title awarded to someone that was polite, pleasing, held doors and helped others in the school without expectation of acknowledgement or reward. Pretty heady stuff as it was announced to the school, a point of pride and achievement.
So that great day leaving school anxiously thinking of the praise that would be heaped upon me for this achievement when I arrived home I started to walk, yes back in the 60's we walked to school to those readers to young to remember. As I approached the cross walk I received the geers of some of the other kids and one in particular, Glen. Yes I do remember his last name, its sad that I do, moments like this do stick in your mind, God knows why. In any event as we crossed the road he teased and ridiculed and then he pushed me again and again taunting me. I took it and I took it, after all I was Master Courtesy, then I pushed back and told him to stop and he punched me, it hurt but nothing serious and I walked home.
I arrived home and announced to my mother that I was Master Courtesy...., fireworks, drum rolls, gasps of delight, warm affirmation or just acknowledgement, I think you know where I am going with this. Needless to say after the lukewarm response, I got angry, the more I thought the angrier I got, so I walked back to the school and there was the source of my pain playing soccer. I walked up to him and punched him in the nose as hard as I could.....
After it was determined that his nose was not broken the Principal sent me home. I went home and when my father arrived I told him about being voted Master Courtesy, then about being hit and then going back and hitting Glen. I awaited my doom, and it never came, while my honour was dismissed as a middle school gimic the later punch was treated with praise, an appropriate action when dealing with aggression. Ok, I punched a bully, big deal, but even then I knew it was wrong, these events burned in my memory, for two reasons, I lost the title of Master Courtesy and more significantly it was the first and last time I ever raised my hand in anger or stood up for myself personally. And another door closed.
So dear readers, to recap, we have a Grade 6 student that has chosen a profession of confrontation while at the same time renouncing personal conflict. The plot thickens....
Cut to high school, there was Grade 7 and 8 but they were those years of conformity and puberty, the first kiss, the first girlfriend, and the desire to fit in and get more of the same, hormones are a bitch.
