Break More Rules for Better Stories — First Quarter/Nineteen Years pg56

Colorful companion to my memoir The Incompetent Psychic

North Vancouver, British Columbia 1972.

Turns out there was something far more fun than high school. We lived five minutes away from Grouse Mountain Ski Area, which was open every day until midnight with lit runs. It was a record year for snow, we had season passes and hitchhiking was still pretty safe.

Assignments for English happened to be books that fit in my down jacket pocket, so I could read on the chair lift. That got one passing grade. I also showed up for art classes. Math, social studies and chemistry? Not so much. — From Chapter 2

Look back on your life. Good times/Best memories come from when you broke the rules. Right?

The 60s & 70s was a time in history when large companies would pack up entire families and move them to the next assignment again and again. Bechtel turned us into civilian military brats. I was the new kid in five high schools in two countries.

My Junior year in North Vancouver was the most fun. I ditched classes all that winter and learned how to slide down hills pretty well. Mom caught on and hid our ski passes, but my sister and I always found them. We managed to sneak our equipment out of the garage and get back up the mountain every chance we could.

A counterpoint example to my ‘the best stories come from breaking rules’ theory is in the next blog where I followed the rules and married the guy who popped my cherry; ending up with a Not fun/Dismal story. Okay if you skip that one. The guy I married at 18 was an asshole who eventually got killed in a bar fight. Boy can I pick ‘em.

Signed copies of my memoir ship quick from https://www.etsy.com/listing/839838936

Unsigned copies can be ordered wherever books are sold.