Wednesday, June 10, 2009


Gather around children, I have a story to tell. It was cold, in January, and the year was 1991. I was 20 still living at home in Winnipeg with my mom and stepdad. Things weren't going well for me financially. 1991 was a terrible year for jobs, and I had managed somehow to get a job at a RadioShack on Portage Avenue. Back then I think my wage was $6.15 an hour - not bad but not great. My first day on the job was a Saturday, and guess what? It was a freaking cold day -30c. I worked my first day and it went OK. How hard can it be to work at a RadioShack when I've had 2 years of Industrial Electronics training? Anyway, the next day I got a call that they needed me to work. But when I found my old 1984 truck wouldn't start (Dead battery), I had to cancel my shift and repair the truck. The battery didn't fix the problem. Not only was my battery dead, but the starter too. After replacing that, I managed to get my truck fixed. But it was too late. The asshat who ran the Radioshack fired me over the phone. He was an annoying dipshit anyway. The truck back then was my dad's old 1984 Chevy Custom Deluxe with a 3 on a tree standard transmission. (I inherited when he passed away in 1987). It was hell to drive and hell to maintain. I was constantly making repairs to this and that. I would drive that truck all the way until 1996. Incredible.

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