Wearing shades in the classroom
while writing tunes
Appears to have gone over
like big lead balloons
Ahh, my second summer in Transcona, and even though I’m still dancin’, unfortunately though, unlike the song Summertime claims, the livin’ ain’t easy.
My father decided that it was time for me to become gainfully employed so he got me a job at a service station pumping gas.
Around the same time, I started growing my hair out like James Dean’s which didn’t go unnoticed at home.
So once again, I got to hear, “If I buy your clothes, you wear what I want you to wear, you eat what your mother puts in front of you, and if I pay for your haircuts, you’ll get it cut how I want it cut.”
Oops, “Sorry Dad, ain’t going to do it, I’ll pay for my haircut. (Me pictured above in shades sporting my James Dean do.)
How’s that old Sam Cooke tune go again? “Another Saturday Night, And I Ain’t Got Nobody.” Sam didn’t even know me, but he was singing about my life which was about to change.
I was standing in front of the East End Community Club cooling off when a car pulls up and a girl’s voice says, “Hey, sweetie, can you come over here for a minute?”
Doing my best James Dean, I stroll over, and the next thing I know, I’m staring at the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
She looked like a a seventeen or eighteen year old version of Marilyn Monroe.
As I stood there mesmerized, she asked if I had a light? When all I could manage to mumble was something about the fact that I didn’t smoke, she smiled and asked me if I could get her one?
Within minutes, I was back, and while firing her up, she said to me, “Hey, you’re kinda cute, what’s your name?” When I told her it was George, she told me that her name was Pat and then placed a piece of paper in my hand and said, ” Hey George, why don’t you call me sometime,” and with that, she disappeared into the night.
It took me a few days to work up the courage to call her, but she seemed pleased that I did, and after making a little small talk, she asked me if there were any dances were going on that weekend? When I told her that there was one at the Maple Leaf Community Club on Friday, she asked me if I would like to pick her up and take her?
Ok, picture this if you can, a fifteen-year-old punk strolling into the dance with this voluptuous Marilyn Monroe look-alike on my arm when suddenly a bunch of seniors gathered around.
They were acting like we all hung out together had been waiting for me to show up. Hell, I didn’t even think they knew my name, but they sure did that night.
Oh, what a night! I spent most of it dancing with her and wishin’ and a-hopin’ that she was one of those bad girls my Dad had always warned me about. Being only fifteen, I had no idea what you did with one of these, but I was sure ready to learn.
Unfortunately, all she taught me was how to smoke which I did in an attempt to try and look older.
However, the night wasn’t wasted because I discovered something that I’ve continued to use my whole life.
No matter how much money you make, where you went to school, where you grew up, who your parents are, or who you know, “It’s he who walks into the room with the best-looking lady on his arm who wins the game.”
Chapter IV (Do You Wanna Dance?) 1/30/23 (4)
We bought a new house
in a town called Transcona
It’s where I started high school
and began dating Lana
As I said in the previous chapter, when my buddy Pete Proskurnk took me to “Teen Canteen,” it changed my life and even though I couldn’t dance, I still went to as many dances as I could.
Once there, I’d spend the whole night just standing in front of the speakers as I felt myself going through a metamorphosis.
My folks had no idea that the guy who left home that night for his first ever dance would never return.
In fact, by the time fall came around and I started high school, the music had taken me over.
Even though I only went to hear the music, I couldn’t help but notice all those “pretty things” that were dancing with each other.
Most of the guys couldn’t dance, so my friend Rolly Blaquire and I figured out that if we wanted a shot at the chicks, you better know how to dance, so we taught each other.
However, we needed to do this dance thing behind closed doors because when you’re from Transcona, there’s no way in hell that you’d survive being caught dancing with another Dude.
Rolly and I spent many nights stumbling around my basement to Elvis, Fats, and Jerry Lee before finally becoming dancin’ fools.
The learning to dance thing worked really well for us, and before long, the ladies were asking us to dance.
I don’t know what we were thinking when we decided to take our show on the road, but we were very fortunate that the local “toughs” didn’t beat the sh*t out of us when we danced with their girls.
Rolly and I spent that whole summer dancing our asses off, but we had no idea that in a few years, the folks would be dancing their asses off to us when we formed the Jury.
As I said, when I moved to Transcona, I became overwhelmed by music, but I still loved baseball.
However, I still remember the day even that began to change.
Coach Zanko gathered us around and pointed his bat toward some girls hanging out in center field. “Stay away from them,” he said; they’ll ruin your baseball career.”
We, of course, had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but sure enough, about halfway through the season, we were out there with them.
Our coach wasn’t the most brilliant man I’d ever met, but he was sure right about one thing; I never did play baseball again.
Being fifteen is a terrible age for a guy; you’re too old to ride a bike and too young to drive.
One day near the end of my first year in Transcona, I’d popped into the Oxford Grill to get some French Fries for my long walk home, and once again, my life was about to change.
While waiting for the fries to come out, I happened to notice a pretty girl who with her friends, were celebrating their graduation from middle school.
After learning that her name was Lana I decided to stay in the ninth grade for another year so that could show her how the system worked.
Hey, it was the least I could do for someone who, in the future, would present me with a little something that would change my life again.
(Lana pictured above with me)
Chapter II (The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly) 1/30/23 (2)
Swan River was where
my sister died
at four years of age
Measles took her
and left me filled
with rage.
As I said in Chapter I (The Roots Of Me) I didn’t know much about my ancestors, but I did learn a few things about my Dad over the years.
Like me, he must have been a dream chaser when he was younger because we seemed to move around a lot chasing something..
One of our first adventures began when we boarded a ship bound for Australia.
For some reason, my Dad and my Uncle Jack were planning on building a bowling alley but unfortunately they soon found out that the Aussies didn’t want to bowl.
All I remember about Australia is that my sister Sandra was born there and how weird it was to go to the beach at Christmas time. (Me pictured above with my Dad.)
Oh yeah, and somehow, we had the only Christmas tree in the neighborhood.
It seems that my Dad came across a whole forest of them one day, so he chopped one down and brought it home.
It was so cool our having the only Christmas tree until we read in the newspaper that the police were looking for the vandals who’d cut down a rare tree at an experimental tree farm.
After two years in Australia once again we boarded a ship but this time it was bound for Vancouver.
My folks had always dreamed of living in Vancouver, and all was well until I came down with a severe case of bronchitis so the Doctors recommended taking me to a drier climate.
I was in Kindergarten at the time, and all I remember was getting on a bus that took us to a small town in Manitoba called Swan River.
My Dad worked as a car mechanic until he finally found out what he should have been doing all along.
When my Dad was at home he was an introvert, but when the Singer Sewing Machine Company hired him as a sales rep, he became an extrovert.
He was very good at sales so our life started to pick up speed.
Then out of nowhere, disaster struck when my four-year-old sister Sandra died of measles. (Sandra pictured with me below.)
Even though I remember kindergarten plus first and second grade, unfortunately, after my sister died, the only thing I remember is starting 5th grade back in Winnipeg.
However, I do vividly remember my father’s boss refusing to let him use the company car to rush my sister to a bigger hospital in Dauphin, Manitoba which was about a hundred miles away
My dad of course took the car anyway, but unfortunately, it was already too late and I’m pretty sure that the rage that burns inside me even today began the day my sister died.
In fact, if I was driving somewhere and that ugly fat f**k stepped off the curb in front of me, there’s no doubt what I would do.
My Mother never got over my sister’s death and I’ll never forget talking to her on the phone a few minutes before she passed and she actually seemed happy.
Thankfully, my brother Reg was by her side and as it turned out, we were the sad ones; my Mom genuinely believed that she was finally going to be reunited with her daughter after all this time.
My Dad, on the other hand, (pictured above with my brother Reg, me, and Mom) adored Sandra, but after she died, he never mentioned her name again.
I can only think that it must have been too painful for him to think about her and he was probably trying to somehow look strong for my mom too.
Sandra’s death was just another tragedy in my Dad’s already trauma filled life which began with the deaths of his parents when he was only an infant.
He ended up in an Orphanage until eventually his oldest sister took him in. However, when his trust ran out, he was put in the streets at fourteen.
I think that my sister’s death must have taken my Father over the edge because from then on, he took a lot of so-called nerve pills.
Today, I’m pretty sure that he would be diagnosed as having acute depression.
All I can hope is that Mom and Dad are with Sandra and they’re all watching me as I struggle to write this with tears in my eyes.
Chapter III (The Devils Music) 1/30/23 (3)
Shortly after Sandra died we returned to Winnipeg where my Brother Reg was born.We moved into my Grandfather’s house, which was on Bonner Avenue in North Kildonan.
And Mr. Businessman wanted that money, so he called us Teenagers.
Hell, he even started making movies about us that featured that strange new music our parents hated called Rock & Roll.
However, this time it was coming out of the radio. Wow!
One two, three o’clock
four o’clock rock.
Five six seven o’clock
eight o’clock rock
Hearing “Rock Around The Clock” coming out of the radio that day changed everything. Before long, you started hearing groups like the Crew Cuts, the 4 Lads, and the Diamonds, but as good as it was, it didn’t take long to figure out that it was just watered-down versions of a bigger and badder sound yet to come.
However, when my folks bought their own house in Transcona, not only did I leave North Kildonan behind, but I also left that shy, quiet fourteen-year-old behind too. (Me pictured on top in North Kildonan)
During my first Transcona summer, I helped my Dad build a garage, a bedroom in the basement, a driveway, sidewalks, and a fence, plus we also sodded the front and backyard.
Don’t bring the police to the front door, don’t tarnish the family name, and stay away from the “bad girls.”
Also, according to my Father, crime began at midnight, so to keep me away from any temptation, he imposed a midnight curfew on me.
The only break I ever got was when he was sick, and looking back, I’m sure he must have suffered from depression.
On those sick days, I would wander over to the nearby park where, still being a baseball freak, I was hoping to meet someone who would play a little ball with me.
I remember thinking, “Why would anyone want to play the accordion?” True to his word, though, he was back in no time, and while we were tossing the ball around, I had no idea that he was about to change my life.
That sure didn’t sound like fun to me because the only dances I was aware of were polkas and maybe square dancing. However, since he was kind enough to play ball with me, I agreed to go.
.
Later that evening, when we arrived at the East End Community Club, the Canadian summer sun was still high in the sky, so when the door closed behind us, we were blinded.
As we inched along the corridor towards the dimly lit entrance ahead, we must have looked like a couple of blind guys in desperate need of a white cane and a seeing-eye dog.
However, now, I no longer cared about seeing; all I cared about was the thunderous sound blasting out of four giant speakers hanging on the wall, and the raw sexuality pouring out of them and into my soul made it very difficult to breathe.
I was hearing the likes of Jimmy Reed, Fats Domino, Big Joe Turner, Little Richard, Tiny Bradshaw, Little Willie John, Muddy Waters, and Wynonie Harris, just to name a few.
Geo’s Media Blog (Dear Nathaniel) rewrite
Dear Nathaniel,grabbed hold of my heart.
Time to grow up and be a man
But I still kinda miss
just being a kid
in a Rock&Roll band.
Her “showbiz” career started in the second grade where because she was one of the smallest in the class, she got to wear the Donald Duck costume at a school event. I believe that her job was to pass out pamphlets or something, but once that duck costume went on, she was on. She immediately started doing cartwheels down the aisles and shaking everybody’s hand as the teachers stood there in shock.
One of the neatest things that happened Nathaniel, was when we moved to California, your Mom had already started school in Indiana, and even though she didn’t attend Coronado High until late November, she still was the “Freshman Of The Year.” (pictured above with uncle Curtis and your great-grandparents Sandy and Betty Johns) The following year she was the “Junior Of The Year” and the lead in the school’s big production of “South Pacific.” (see newspaper picture below)
Even though we weren’t excited about it, she finished high school in France. (I’d made a deal with her that if she got straight, A’s she could go) When she returned home to graduate with her class, (see picture below), Buppa purchased a surprise “welcome home” billboard at the entrance to the Coronado bridge. Unfortunately, for Candis, it stayed up for several months which was somewhat of an embarrassment because whenever she met someone new, and they heard her name, they’d say, “Are you the chick on the billboard?”
Your Mom began her college career at NYU in New York where she studied drama. (your grandparents were also not very excited about her living in New York) Discovering that she could learn acting anywhere, she decided to switch back to academics where she made the Deans List and then and then transferred to UCLA.
A year or so later when she went back to New York for a visit, she popped in to see her old drama professor at NYU. He wanted to see if she still had her chops, so he had her read for him. After doing so, he told her that she was wasting her time going to college, she was as ready to audition for Broadway plays. He even offered to call me and explain the situation, but your Mom told him that there was no need for him to do that because I was already her biggest fan. Whew!
While at UCLA she began writing songs and singing with at the Whiskey the Roxy and several other venues in Hollywood. (pictured singing at the Roxy above) Even though singing was her whole life, she also loved to run, so we decided to run the LA Marathon together. (see a picture of us running a 10k in San Diego below) Running that Marathon was absolutely not only the hardest, but it was also the greatest thing that I’ve ever done with my daughter. We didn’t get to train together much, but we did do an excellent run along the Mediterranean in the South of France when I took her there for her 21st birthday.
After graduating Magna Cum Laude from UCLA, (I’m thinkin’ Suma for you) she began working as the assistant to a record company president named Charlie Minor which eventually led to her becoming the Licensing Director for WEA. (Warner Bros. Electra and Asylum Records)She also recorded an album with her band The Tortured Poets, but by now she was too smart and wouldn’t sign the onesided contract. The album was never released, but Buppa has it, so I get to enjoy it over and over again, and you can hear my favorite cut from it by clicking on the link at the bottom of the page,
To hear Candis sing one of her compositions, “Let Me” from her unreleased album, click on the link below.
https://youtu.be/9bGbdutAkZ0