Long way to become a Man. Cont..

It is difficult to talk about yourself and your history, while history is being made elsewhere. I am speaking of course of the disaster in Japan. On one hand, I wish I lived closer as I know skilled trades people will be required to help rebuild the great country. On the other, I am grateful it is as far away as it is and I have a great deal of stability beneath my feet for the sake of my family. They have rebuilt before, I am certain they will rebuild again.

Realizing that this is all out in the public domain, I also feel that I may need to justify why I am doing this. Do you know your Great Great Grandfather? Perhaps you've heard the stories told of your Great Great Great Grandmother. I guessing that for most of you, the answer is, no. With the recent passing of my Grandmother, I find myself regretting not asking more questions about her accomplishments and her life. This is of course common place. I wish to end that with me. Not for the sake of complete strangers, but for the sake of my Son and his children. This is who I am, this is what I did, and this is how I lived. What more could I ask. Placing it in the public domain is meant to inspire others to follow suit. We can't all do great things notable in the history books, but we can write our own story. This is mine.

   Getting back to my time in Calgary.

   Before I get into my move to Red Deer to find work, I need to follow up with a few missing details of my schemes and employment in Calgary. After working for the Water-Bed Warehouse for about a year, the company flopped and went bankrupt. They still owe me a weeks salary. By shear luck, a sales rep from across the street happened by the store and advised me to walk over and apply at a company called Russell Ventures. They owned a chain of bedroom related outlet stores in Calgary. The Bedroom Shop, The Ultra-foam Factory, and the Brass Bed Sleep center to name a few. I was hired the next day by the owners son Mark. Really brash middle aged man with a wicked sense of humor. I admired him for his honesty. His brutal, no holds barred honesty. A trait few have in this world. Most people, myself included sometimes, feel the need to wrap every answer up in sugar paper prior to it's delivery. Not Mark. If you looked like a bag of crap, you could guarantee he'd call you on it whether you wanted to hear it or not.

   After working there for a couple of years, and saw that I was not only getting older but going nowhere, I decided to apply for a job as a plumber with Canyon Plumbing. By this time Tracy and I had been living together for some time and I think we lived over in the west end of town near Westbrook Mall. It was somewhere around 1991-92. Now I'm pretty sure, your thinking that I stayed working as a plumber, and have been working as a plumber since. This is not the case. After trying my hand at plumbing for two years, I discovered that I hated it. I toughed it out and after awhile I eventually stopped caring about my work ethic and finally was fired. I don't blame the guy one bit. I needed to go somewhere. I was lost. I had no clue what I was doing with my life and for the first time, I could see it clearly.

   No direction. I was stuck in the mud and had lost all my gumption to go any where. I took a job at the Aikenheads (now Home Depot) in 94 and while under their employment, became quite interested in cycling. One night, years later, while trying to get a grasp on what to do, it occurred to me that perhaps all I needed to do was to go on a bit of a walk-about. Or in my case, a bike-about. I bought a 21 speed mountain touring bike for 400 bucks and loaded it up with my camping gear and left. I told Tracy that I needed to clear my head and go for a bike ride. I didn't tell her how long I was going to go for. At that time it really didn't matter what I told her. Talking to her at that point was like eating cold eggs for breakfast, sure you'll eat it, but you know damn well you won't like it.

I cycled all the way to Lake Louise the first night; my old stomping ground, and decided to go as far as Jasper over the next two or three days. On day two I came within 20 yards of two grizzly bears foraging up a hill away from the road side. Good thing they were busy or I'd be bear poop. The trip was exactly what I needed. To return to the one place where everything made sense. It was simple and quiet. No deadlines just my thoughts and the great Rocky Mountains.

Somewhere along the way, things started to rattle around in that brain cage. I reviewed my life and tried to draw some conclusions. I'm a creative person, always have been. Problem is, there were no jobs available to me given my current skill set. I could go back to school, but that would cost money; a lot of it. To be honest, I didn't think I would be able to give that kind of commitment to just boldly go to school with no direction. I know too many people that have spent a considerable amount of coin, only to end up with a degree in something they either don't use, or simply hate. Then, almost as a joke, I thought,"Hey, why don't I just go and invent something."

   The idea wasn't serious at first, but it festered in my head. Hell, why not, how hard could it be? Ignorance was bliss. And so the train of thought continues on to this day. I'm an inventor. It felt right, sounded right, I just needed to make it work. I had no idea, but I didn't care. I really had nothing to lose.

   The bike trip took me through the Saskatchewan River Crossing, and onto Jasper. All the while, scheming ideas. I arrived in Jasper three days after I departed from Lake Louise and stayed there a day to rest by the Athabasca River. From Jasper I continued north and turned south just shy of Hinton. This was the forestry trunk road. Nasty stretch of gravel road not meant for cyclists. I made it as far as a town called Cadomine. Camped out over night just outside of town and continued on the following morning south back towards the number 11 highway. I believe I camped out that night in a really unnerving area just north of Nordegg. I kept reminding myself that I was not at the top of the food chain out there. Next morning I packed up and at this stage of the trip, I was utterly spent. I had little to no juice left. I decided to give it one last push before I called it quits and thumbed a ride from where ever I ended up. I traveled for the longest stretch that day, I began biking around 8 in the morning, through Nordegg, onto Rocky Mountain House, and on through to Caroline where I could pedal no more. About 20 kilometers prior to Caroline was a stretch of road I wont soon forget. It was a full moon that night, the air was warm and all I could hear was the sound of rubber on asphalt and the beating of my heart. A primal rhythm. I was completely at peace with myself. I can only better describe it as feeling "centered".

  When I arrived in Caroline, everything was closed. I spent my last night huddled under a sign at a gas station till morning. I believe I arrived in town around 3 or 4 in the morning. Caroline is quite an empty place at that time. I ended up thumbing a ride to Innisfail where Tracy's parents lived. When I arrived at their place, I said hello and without much small talk, asked if I could please use their spare bedroom for an hour or so to get some sleep. The good people that they were invited me in and I went to sleep. I woke up the next day. Tracy arrived with my car and we drove home. Neither one of us said anything to each other. The following day the routine of arguing and fighting resumed. On an off note, I recall meeting with my Father in Calgary a few days later. It was one of the few times I've ever heard him say he was proud of me for doing what I had done. That felt good. Kind of a validation.

   Now, I had direction. Time to get to work.