When I was a kid, I was quite athletic. One of the things I did was diving at an outdoor pool we used to call the Floodbowl, an outdoor pool that was right beside the river and was called that because the pool was located in the middle of a sunken field.
When the river would flood, excess water was designed to go in there.
Anyway, I was a hotshot athlete as ateenager. I did a flip off the high diving board, or a jackknife dive, I can't recall, and landed awkwardly, shall we say, on my groin area. trying to show off to the goils.
Translation: I did a belly-flop that was more like a testicle flop. Without getting too graphic, my right one blew up swollen WAY out of proportion to my left one. After a few days, it was fine.
Doh. Duh.
I was an altar boy in the Catholic church as a teen.
Like most teens, I experimented with alcohol. Fast-forward to my friend and I, also an altar boy as I recall, sneaking into the church, going up to the glassed-in crying room, and drinking a bottle of wine each.
Then we walked the block to the gym between my high school and elementary school where what was called a coffee house was taking place. A coffee house is like a dance without the dancing.
I THINK we were in Grade 11.
Predictably, I got drunk. I beat up a guy outside and then the school principal broke up the fight and put me in a cab home. He got in too.
When we got to my place, he told my parents what had happened. I threw up.
I was grounded. AND suspended.
In 1979, I went on a bus trip from England to India and back. I smoked ganges -- hashish -- in southern India one night. I hated hash or marijuana and never got into drugs.
I passed out. I don't know how I survived.
I worked one summer as a teen up in Leaf Rapids, Manitoba, Canada. I was REALLY stupid and got drunk. Suffice to say, I decided in my drunken state to walk the seven miles back to the fish plant.
How I wasn't run over or consumed by wolves or a hungry bear is beyond me.
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