Culture shock: Growing up in the 1970's

The chorus from the Joni Mitchell hit, Big Yellow Taxi“ released in 1970 goes like this:

“Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone”. 

I grew up in the 1970s, the son of Jamaican immigrants.  It was a turbulent decade that mirrored the turbulence we experienced as a family beginning a new life in Canada.

The culture shock of immigrating to Canada from our home in Jamaica was just the first a cold reality after having spent many vacations in Canada in the years leading up to our big move. 

In 1967 we travelled to Canada for the first time. We were here to visit family and friends in and around Toronto.  That was exciting enough but an even bigger part of the trip was our planned visit to Montreal to take in Expo 67. 

Canada and certainly Montreal was buzzing that year in celebrating 100 years as a nation.  

I’ll always look back fondly on the road trip down the 401 to Montreal.  I got to ride on the top of the luggage in the back of a huge Ford ‘woodie’ station wagon.  Yes, those were the days before seat belts and airbags!

We spent 3 days touring Expo; going on the rides; visiting the pavilions; riding the monorail; stuffing ourselves with food.  On one of the days it rained…we splashed in the puddles and got soaked thoroughly.  That was a glorious day.

Montreal and Expo 67 began our love affair with Canada.

A few years later when the violence in Jamaica intensified, my parents made the decision to leave our homeland.  Canada was the choice; us kids didn’t push back.  

The 4 hour airplane trip transported us from the world we knew into one we thought we knew.  As is typical for most immigrants, we experienced the culture shock of moving from a visitor to a resident.  

And what a shock it was!

We dressed differently.  We spoke with a thick accent.  We looked different. We ate different food.  

Thankfully I liked rock music…I know, a kid from Jamaica who didn’t like Reggae?

Rock…that became my ticket to adapting and fitting in. 

And that’s what we did back then.  Fit in.  

I’ve liked rock for as long as I can remember. In Jamaica my early music collection included Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Jefferson Airplane and Led Zeppelin.  

In Canada I added The Guess Who and a little 3 piece heavy rock band called Rush.  A highlight of my mid-teens was seeing Rush play live very early in their career:  In Brampton in front of no more than 90 fans, they rocked the place!  I was hooked!

Until next time...

Oldsmobile 88

The Oldsmobile Delta 88 was a beast!  A two door coupe with a massive 350 cubic inch V8 engine.  The enormous doors opened enough to allow entry into the back seat without moving the split fold front bench seat.  It was left hand drive.  The reason I note that is that this was my Dad's car when we lived in Jamaica...where cars drove on the left side of the road.  It was totally inappropriate but we loved it!

I was around 10 or 11 years old when this beast came into the family.  By then I was working with my Dad at his Texaco Service station on Spanish Town Road on the edge of Trench Town in Kingston.  He was an early riser so by 5:30 am we were in the Olds on our way to work.  

The Service Station provided a number of services.  Gas of course and diesel...truck and bus owners were regular customers.  Then there were the oil and lube done on a hoist for the cars and over an open pit for the trucks and buses.  In those days suspension bits and ball joints needed to be lubed up.  I can still remember the sound of the compressor hissing as it pulled thick lubricant from the 55 gallon drum.  And the smell...ahhh....!

We repaired tires as well.  In those days all bias ply tires had an inner tube.  It had to be removed in order to repair it.  That was my first job:  Patching and repairing inner tubes.  The surface around the hole had to be roughed up first then the adhesive was applied and allowed to get tacky.  Only then could the 'patch' be applied.  Then it was on to the vulcanizer:  a press that applied pressure and heat to permanently fix the patch to the tube.  Once done, I inflated the tube, ran it under some water to see if there were any bubbles and if none, gave it back to the installer to put back onto the rim.

Then it was time for lunch.  And another ride in the Olds. Most days we headed to my Grandmother's place for a home cooked meal.  Usually something with rice...heavy, and delicious.  We always made time for a quick nap before heading back to the service station for the afternoon.

The day we had the collision was like any other.  We had stopped at a local plaza on the way to lunch. Dad pulled out of the parking lot directly into the side of a small Japanese car.  To this day I don't remember feeling any impact!  The front end of the Olds was miles away and protected by a solid steel, chrome plated bumper. 

We both jumped out of the Olds to inspect the damage. The chrome bumper had made a remarkable accurate indentation in the side door of the impacted car.  Thankfully we had been going slowly and the impact was on the empty passenger side of the car.  The Olds bumper had a...scratch! 

This being Jamaica, Dad and the other car owner quickly settled things with Dad offering to pay for the repairs.  Then we jumped back in the Olds and headed to lunch.  Within minutes it seemed a distant memory.

They don't make cars like that anymore.  Which is probably a good thing.  Today at high speed, a car like that vintage of Oldsmobile would cause serious damage.  But darn...I do miss that Oldsmobile 88!

Until next time...

Swedish cars rock

My love affair with Swedish cars began with a SAAB 900 Turbo.  It was a used silver 3-door.  Blue leather interior, steel sunroof and 3 speed automatic.  A big 4 cylinder engine with a huge turbo.  When the turbo kicked in, hang on!  I loved that car.  For the first time driving, I felt at one with a vehicle.  I drove that car until the dashboard electrics 'flashed out' one day and all the electronics quit!  I figured a fire was next so limped it into the SAAB dealership in Oakville.

There I traded it for a light green 9000 5 door Turbo.  Another automatic with a tan leather interior.  The dashboard and controls were all in their familiar places...it was an easy transition.  This car was really nice at highway speeds...it liked 125 kph.  So did I.  The hatchback was a great feature:  I could fold down the rear seats and turn it into wagon.  The twins learned to drive in this car and once they had their full licences it never rested on weekends.  One weekend in particular they ran up almost 1,000 km driving around Mississauga!  

When that SAAB left, I wandered away from the brand for a couple of vehicles.  All good but not Swedish.  My next one though was the sweetest:  A gunmetal grey SAAB 9-5T.  A four door with grey leather interior.  The T stood for the larger turbo and by that model most of the torque steer had been engineered out.  This was my favourite of all.  It could carve the corners and cruise all day on the highway.  Sally also loved this car...I think I even let her drive a couple of times.  I was sad to see it go.

And to see SAAB go the way of the dinosaur only a few years later in the collapse of the GM empire.

Many years later I was looking for a 'well-used' used car.  Or...cheap car!  I found an older Volvo V70 wagon on a used car lot in Wasaga Beach.  It was a little banged up on the rear door on the passenger side but it started, idled smoothly and drove straight.  There was a little knock in the engine but nothing I was too worried about.  That car was a workhorse.  Weekly drives up and down the 400 to Toronto, multiple dump runs when we got ready to sell the house in Toronto.  It just went and went... Once back in Toronto and not needing a second vehicle, Holden inherited it.  He drove it for a couple years more before the brakes finally gave up the ghost.  It was a sad day for us when we dropped it off at the scrap yard.

Next up was an old Volvo V50 that I picked up about 4 years ago for myself.  By then Sally was driving a Volvo XC 60...more on that in a moment.  

The V50 had a ton of mileage on it but the engine ran smoothly, transmission was solid and I liked the shape.  I drove that up until Holden took it over earlier this year.  We've had to do some suspension work but otherwise the car runs well.

Back to the XC60 that I'm currently driving.

It was Sally's baby.  She had driven Volvo's before and loved them.  She survived a car accident many years ago in a Volvo and appreciated the engineering.  We purchased this one with about 100,000 km on it.  Black with tan leather interior and pretty tricked out.  The big engine was a draw:  It lit up on the highway when we test drove it.  Sold!  

I've been driving it since early this year. Its bigger than I like in a car but it drives 'small'. I have a colour-coordinated car carrier for Milo in the back seat and with windows down and sunroof open, we both enjoy the open road.

Yes Swedish cars are quirky.  They are not for everyone.  But once you've had one...

Until next time...

Falling Asleep

Falling asleep has been difficult for the past year. I like being in bed I just can't sleep.  And I should note:  It's a King-sized bed!

I know I have trouble falling asleep and getting a good night's sleep because my Fitbit reports that every morning. And I check it every morning!  Hmmm...that could be part of the problem.

I get up super early.  Some mornings on the weekend, I'm up as the parties are winding down.  I've hear a few party-goers chuckle as they see my running by.  And by super early I mean 3:30 am!  

The morning routine is pretty rigid every day including weekends:  I make the bed, brew coffee, read before taking Milo out around 4:15 am.  We walk for about 20 minutes and he does all his business.  I think he likes it because he trots along at a brisk clip.  He may be doing that to get back inside quickly.  Once back inside he marches back into his crate and curls up.

I head out around 4:45 am for my morning run.  My goal is around 45 minutes and most mornings I get through that comfortably.  I've give up raw speed and rest days to keep up the consecutive day streak...now over 1,600 days.  

After showering and breakfast, I spend a few minutes on the computer before heading out to drop Milo off for the day.  The weekends are a little bit different:  Saturday I head out for my Big Breakfast cheat meal (Eggs, bacon, toast, hash browns) and on Sunday its Church.

As you may imagine by mid-afternoon I'm pooched!  A Coke Zero caffeine hit is necessary to get to the end of the work day.

Once home, the trouble begins.  Milo and I like watching TV.  Again, I believe he likes it because he curls up on his special fluffy blanked on the sofa beside me.  I usually make it 45 minutes before nodding off.  Around 8 pm I stumble out with Milo for his last outing before heading back in for the evening.

I read, write and listen to music for about 45 minutes before turning in for the evening.  And that's the challenge:  I don't fall asleep quickly and then once asleep, I wake frequently throughout the night.  

I've tried everything:  Over-the-counter sleep aids (don't like them...they leave me groggy in the morning); Melatonin (How many are too many?); Meditation; Hot showers; warm milk (Ugh).  Nothing seems to work.  I've heard CBD works but I've not tried that yet.

I know, I know...the early evening napping probably has something to do with this.  And certainly the stress of the past year still plays heavily on my mind.  I've pretty much resigned myself to this being my normal.  It's really quiet at 3:30 am and I've read some really good books over the past year.

Falling asleep...may not be a problem at all.

Until next time...