Childhood
Posted on November 21st, 2008
As some of you may or may not have heard on the latest Bob and Andrew show podcast, I am thoroughly amused by childhood stories of trauma and upheaval. Mostly because these stories, when translated into adulthood, seem quite innocent and inconsequential. When Andrew told me the story if his pet bird Buddy dying during a family dinner I laughed heartily. Not because I enjoy small children crying, but rather because of the inherent naivety within the story. When you’re a kid everything seems so important. If an adult, especially a parent, makes a point of something, you latch onto it and herald it as some kind of important human gem that needs guarding and attention. I bet the young Menzies children held Buddy in just this kind of esteem.
They probably took turns feeding him and cleaning his cage, playing with him and talking to him. Buddy, being a bird, was oblivious to this of course and most likely spent his days wondering how long he’d have to spend as their captive. While the little Menzies were loving Buddy, he was scratching off the days on the wall of his cage and doing birdy chin ups. Regardless of the details, I think this situation with Buddy is the perfect metaphor for childhood. When you’re a kid you think the world is pure, orderly and important. The world however, is indifferent, chaotic and down right nasty. It’s only when events like Buddy’s death happen that you begin to learn about the true cruelty that lies beyond the playground.
I would like to recount for you now some of my most alarming and enlightening childhood traumas. Come along.
In elementary school there was a kid in my class named Steven Richardson. He was cool. He even had a little leather jacket at the age of 8. He and his friend Justin would go around at recess and lunch and make shit happen. Often times there were wrestling matches and play fights involved in these lunch hours. Steven always won. I didn’t take part in too many of these, but could be relied upon as an okay ally. One day, a group of us were involved in one such play fight and I soon found myself battling a couple of kids very near to Steven. He helped me out and we teamed up. It was glorious. We fought valiantly and soon won the battle. He turned to me and told me that we had made a good team. I was proud. Then he promptly tripped me and laughed at me. As soon as he was gone, I cried. I’ve never truly opened up to another person since.
LESSON #1: Friends will back stab you.
In grade 3 I had a teacher named Mrs Lang. She was a tall woman with a bad haircut and no chin. She was abrasive and very devout. She used to show us movies about the life of Jesus that I don’t think were in the curriculum, but that’s neither here nor there. Each week in Mrs Lang’s class we had to research a topic in groups, make a poster board and then present on our findings at the end of the week. This particular Friday we were preparing for our presentations. Our presentation was on Dolphins as I recall. My group was huddled around our poster board and we were taking turns practicing our piece out loud. As it was not my turn I was not doing much of anything. Mrs Lang took exception to this and pulled me out into the hall. She proceeded to push her chinless face into mine and release some fire and brimstone on me. Her argument was that I should have been practicing my part of the presentation in my head while it was the other student’s turn. Overreaction? I think so. I returned to class where I sat at my desk and cried for 10 or 20 minutes.
LESSON #2: People will not hesitate to drop their own shit at your doorstep unprovoked.
The following year, in grade 4, I was in Mrs DeLougas’ class. It was a split class and took place in a portable classroom. That year, needless to say, sucked in general. But there were a couple of particularly traumatic experiences along the way. The year was 1993. Star Trek the Next Generation was huge and I was a fan of the show. I had recently purchased (I say I purchased it, really it was my mother) a Captain Picard action figure. Proud of my new purchase I brought it to school to show my friends. That day during lunch I took Captain Picard around to show him the school. While I was gone, someone went into my desk and stole all of Captain Picard’s accessories. I was devastated. I still had my Captain but he had no phaser, no tricorder! He would have been useless on an away mission! I cried. It was horrible.
LESSON #3: People WILL steal your stuff.
Another traumatizing experience I had while in grade 4 took place one day after school. My family was living just outside the city of Quesnel at the time and so I had to take a bus home from school. On this particular day however, my Mum was going to give me a ride. I packed up my stuff, headed out to the round about where all the buses and cars were picking kids up and taking them home. I waited till everyone was gone, all the buses, all the parents and all the kids. I knew something was up. I walked back to class where Mrs DeLougas, immediately upon seeing me, began apologizing profusely. You see, my Mum had called and told Mrs DeLougas to please pass on that she would not be able to pick me up and that I should take the bus the home as per usual. Mrs DeLougas had even written it on her hand so she wouldn’t forget. I cried and Mrs DeLougas organized a ride for me from one of the other teachers who lived near me.
LESSON #4: You’re on your own in this world.
When I was a kid I was, shall we say, a little awkward at times. There was a period of a few years where I refused to wear anything other than sweat pants. They were comfortable. In grade 6 our class got to go on a week long field trip to the Flying U Ranch in the BC Cariboo region. There we got to stay in cabins, ride horses and just generally have a good time. It took place during the early summer and the weather was warm. After one particularly hot day of riding horses, working out in the sun and just general busy-ness, I got a nose bleed. My sweat pants may or may not have been partially responsible due to the heat capturing properties they possessed. I guess my body just couldn’t take it any more. It was a monumental nose bleed. Blood everywhere. It just wouldn’t stop. Some of the kids were cruel in their teasing of me and my sweat pants. I cried.
LESSON #5: People will constantly judge you on your appearance.
So there you have it. 5 traumatic experiences from my childhood and the 5 life lessons that go with them. In hindsight seem strangely trivial. At the time they were a big deal. They felt like life and death. But I got through it and am a better person for it. Now that I’m older, I don’t wear sweat pants anymore. I’m able to drive myself where I need to go.I keep a close eye on my stuff. I don’t take people too seriously when they unload on me for no reason and I’ve weeded out any friends that were not true friends. I still cry from time to time, but then again, who doesn’t?
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Tags: andrew menzies, Buddy the Bird, childhood, Dolphins, elementary school, Jesus, Life Lessons, Mrs DeLougas, Mrs Lang, parkland, Pets, pinecrest, school, Steven Richardson
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7 Responses to “Childhood”
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Nick Says:
November 21st, 2008 at 3:52 pmOk do you still cry from time to time, or is it more like everyday over your cereal?
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bob Says:
November 21st, 2008 at 4:16 pmNo, more often than not it’s something on tv that makes me cry these days. Cute children, heart warming moments between family members, the first black man being elected president, you know, things like that.
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Nick Says:
November 21st, 2008 at 5:44 pmYou laugh when buddy dies, and cry when you see cute children. Hmmmm I think deep down the crying is just a ploy to lure in hot women. Or ugly women. Whatever, just women.
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andrew Says:
November 21st, 2008 at 5:48 pmI’m glad my pain and sadness amuses you.
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Chelsea Says:
November 21st, 2008 at 6:58 pmI now know your weaknesses….I have a feeling someone is going to be crying in a few weeks.
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Scott Says:
November 21st, 2008 at 7:03 pmI still wear sweatpants any time I’m not at work. They are way more comfortable than jeans.
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Rick Says:
November 23rd, 2008 at 7:54 amMaybe its time to tell Andrew the real
truth about Buddy.