My Second First Shot or How to hire an infant to run things!

As I’ve been getting used to my Blog page and how it works, the original post about what I was wanting to do with the Blog or rather see where it takes me, PLUS  my original Hot Wheels Theft story, which I couldn’t seem to post the first time, I am re-writing, verbatim.


The Hot Wheels Theft or How to receive a scar.

One of the worst feelings I remember as a young boy of around not yet double digits was being reprimanded by one of my parents.

Did I deserve it? Damn right! I’d nicked a Hot Wheels car from a Woolco Department store! And was caught!

Mark and Mike had directed me to the exit of the Woolco which was the mall entrance, after they’d helped me stuff the Red Baron (to this day it’s still my fav HW car) in a pocket of my pants.

There I was, with the coolest Hot Wheels car $.50 could buy stuffed in my bell-bottom jeans that Mom had purchased from “Boo-Boo’s” a slightly imperfect garment store of the 60’s, and on my way out the door…


I felt it, a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look to see Mark or Mike but it was this stranger. A woman. Christ she seemed tall, youngish and nice dressing and ask me kindly, “empty your pockets for me young man!”

Now I wasn’t the smartest kid in school. I wasn’t even the smartassiest, that was Greg McConnell. But I knew it wasn’t a question. So I reach in and pull out the scoffed Red Baron and hand it over explaining that it was Mark and Mike…they did it! They’d surprised me at the prospect of crime, I was under pressure (insert Queen riff here) I’d caved.

That’s it, I’d thrown my friends under the proverbial bus. My friends. I was so scared that I farted! But I guess I wasn’t too scared, because I hadn’t shat myself. No linen freckles in these gotchies when I’d gotten home. Home.

red baron

Not a safe place after your Mother – a stay at home Mom at that time- receives a phone call from Woolco security telling her, her son had been caught stealing & you’d better come and collect him.

Mark and Mike didn’t have anything on them when approached by security. Just me. They were free to go home. That place where you weren’t scared about your Dad’s arrival from a long ride to and from work in downtown TO. Bus and Subway. TTC!

There I was, sitting, waiting, thinking… sucker.

When Mom did enter the office I was glad to see a familiar face. I didn’t cry. I don’t know what I’d said, until I’d try to explain to Mom on the way to the Valiant in the Parking Lot, that it was Mark and M… “Wait till your father gets home” she sliced with her eyes, Medusa curls in rollers under a chin tied scarf holding them back from biting, and “How do you think your Grandparents would feel if they knew what you’ve done?” stated with the intent to shame.

I felt awful. I was reprimanded, punished and received a lasting scar. You can’t see this kind of scar. You can only feel it. Some would argue, that the residual trauma of the Woolco theft can’t be, because I don’t see it.

That was 48 years ago, and it still fucks with my head. Of course I deserved to be in shit but what’s with the lasting guilt? I’m not Catholic.

My Grandparents were very influential to my raising – both sets- and shaping. They would be crushed!

I never stole again but have permanently borrowed pens, lighters, beer, whiskey and other unmentionables. Thanks, s.

Hi there stopper by, I’m new to Blogging. I’m just a guy that enjoys music, playing guitar, watching the Blue Jays.

Little about me:

Fav Book: Frankenstein

Fav current Group: Band of Horses

Fav Group of Past: Ya right, one?

Fav Actor: Kurt Russell

Fav Actress: Kurt Russell, Tango and Cash

Was in the Hospital in 2012 for High Blood Pressure. They were wrong, it was Dangerously high. I suppose the meds I was given were fast acting and I experienced 3 strokes. Thankfully they were small. Things were effected, affected? Different, that’s it, different.

I hope to use this blog as an outlet for pressure retention release. Or PS or pisss. Also to talk of my experiences and struggles.

Not all injuries can be seen.

Keeping shit inside is so much easier than dealing with, don’t you think?

I have a full-time job and own my own business. You can peg my age by comments or references. “What ancient Chinese secret?” or “You’re soaking in it.” I’m going to write some different and interesting stuff about feelings; good, bad, void off. Living with stroke side-effects. Music and why your favorite band sucks!

Canada’s 150 & the Hip, and tons more. Please comment if you feel like it. I’m not Political. I embrace different cultures. Mostly those involving curry. I love a good curry, me.

I don’t embrace over-population. I’m not talking world, just the 401. Oh, I’m left handed. Don’t know why that seems pertinent.

I’m really trying to juggle many things and it’s hard, as you may know, so let’s see what happens?

Take it easy, s

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