My folks bought a new home
in a suburb called Transcona
That’s where I started High School
and began dating Lana
Even though I couldn’t dance, I spent my first summer in Transcona going to every dance I could find. Once there though, I would just stand in front of the speakers listening to the music and could actually feel myself going through some sort of metamorphosis. My parents never realized that the guy who left home that hot night in July for his first dance, never returned.
When I started high school at TCI that fall it was already too late, the music had got to me which meant that any educational aspirations my folks may have held for me were done for. However, I must admit that even though I was only at the dance to hear the music, I did notice all the “pretty things” out on the dance floor. Back in those days, other than trying to sneak in a slow grinder in now and then, none of the guys knew how to dance so the girls had no choice but to dance with each other.
My friend Rolly Blaquiere and I soon figured out that if we ever hoped to capture the hearts of some sweet things, we needed to learn how to dance. However, learning to dance required that we do it hidden in my basement because when you’re from Transcona, there’s no way we could be seen dancing with each other. We spent many a night down there stumbling around to Elvis and Fats Domino records before finally becoming dancin’ fools.
Our learning to dance worked like magic and soon all the young ladies were asking us to dance so we took our act on the road. I don’t know what we were thinking but we were lucky the locals didn’t beat the sh*t beat out of us when the girls all over Winnipeg, lined up to dance with us.
Rolly and I spent the whole summer just dancing our asses off with no idea that in a few years the folks would be dancing their asses off to our music when we formed The Jury.
Even though I was really into music and dancing, I still loved baseball and remember the day when even that began to change. Our coach gathered us around him at baseball practice one day and then pointed his bat out to centerfield where some pretty girls were hanging out. In no uncertain terms, he said, “You stay away from the likes of them because they’ll ruin your baseball career.” Even though we had no idea what the hell he was talking about, sure enough, about halfway through the season, most of us were out in the field chatting them up instead of taking batting practice. Our coach wasn’t a brilliant man, but he was right about one thing, I never played baseball again.
Being fifteen was a terrible age, you’re too old to ride a bike and too young to drive so you had to walk everywhere. One late afternoon near the end of the school year, I popped into the Oxford Grill to load up on some fries for my long walk home. While standing there waiting for my chips, once again my destiny showed up. However this time it was in the form of a girl who I spotted in the adjoining banquet hall celebrating her graduation from middle school with her classmates.
After finding out that her name was Lana, I decided right then and there that I would stay another year in the ninth grade so that I could help guide her through her year in High School. Hey, it was the least I could do for the girl who would become my wife and eventually present me with the precious little thing who would cause me to dream yet another dream. Well, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Thinking you know something is what keeps you from learning anything.
Hearing good advice requires more smarts than giving advice does.
A good friend is somebody who laughs at your bad jokes and sympathizes with you even when your problems add up to nothing.
The only thing that’s limitless is our imagination.
If we could get politicians to stop dry humping Big Business, America could be great again.
Why do people who never listen to advice always insist on giving it?
Is it true that Robert Kraft was caught enjoying a happy ending?
Why do radio executives now make much more money than the successful ones that came before them?
Tony Romo may not make it to the Football HOF, but he’ll be in the Broadcasting Hall Of Fame for sure.