My Life and Adventures with cars Part One

A car is a mechanical object, but truly your relationship with it is personal and even intimate.  It is a part of your identity and of your ego   In my case, calculations based on tax returns, expenses claimed, commuting recalled and recreational driving the total is over one million miles (not kilometers) so there is a lot of history that formed me. When we study history we tend to focus on power.  Louis XIV for instance had the power of life and death not only in France, but in colonies and was a significant promoter of the arts that we enjoy centuries later.  But even I have power that he didn't.

A car has given me a feeling of  freedom, but also of slavery.  As a youngster one could appreciate the freedom a car offered.  Without one you were dependent on how far you could walk or on getting someone else to take you where you wanted to go.  The desire for more freedom hit me before having access to a car; http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/02/hitch-hiking-memories.html

My father was a truck driver who was well respected, owning his own company that had four trucks.  He was put on a board of directors for dump truck operators.  He also had the distinction of winning the Canadian Winter Rally in 1960 in his first effort on a day that one of my sisters was born.  Everyone considered him an exceptional driver, but he was a poor teacher.  At age 16 he took me to a nearby parking lot in Oshawa and with a gear shift gave a few instructions.  He admitted that it was very hard on his nerves and no further efforts.

We moved to Haliburton and the high school decided to offer a driving education course and I was among the first to enlist.  My father supported this effort as he wouldn't have to endure beginner mistakes.  They used an automatic gear system and that removed one of my difficulties.  Most of the class passed the driving license test including me at age 18.  I was allowed to drive on special occasions, even a few times with my father.  A couple of these early experiences are recalled.

One, I was so anxious to drive that I agreed to drive our family dog (who had often slept on my bed) to the vet about an hour's drive away in Fenelon Falls.  When we got there I realized the horror of what I had done and asked my mother to drive back home.  Years later I actually made sales calls to this same clinic.

Two, I was asked to take my sister for a high school event on a snowy winter day.  No excuse I put the car in the ditch, but was towed out.  When I confessed at home I was told no more driving while snow was on the ground.  Not the last time I ran a car into the ditch, but a lesson was learned.  

Three.  My Grandmother Coakwell let me drive her car from Oshawa and back for one of her visits to my family.  On one part of the trip I bumped up against a trailer of another car.  She didn't say much at the time, but when my cousins were visiting from Cornwall they told me she had told them.

After high school and while at university I would be given chances to drive on my own in Haliburton. even with snow on the ground.  Then after graduation which I took in January I found it very difficult to get a job.  I am sure my parents were getting exasperated.  Finally I had a successful interview for a social worker position in Barrie, Ontario with the requirement that I had to have a car.  Although my father had always advocated for foreign cars he set me up with his friend who owned Bill Drew Ford in Ajax.  He paid a down payment and road tested the car and in a short run pointed out some minor faults, but felt it was good enough for me.

My job involved driving around a section of Simcoe County that included Collingwood and Wasaga Beach that later became holiday destinations.  I also visited home, my old university, my friends and even to Montreal.  But the job didn't last and I ended up back home.  While there I enrolled in a night course at York University and took turns with a co-worker, but occasionally went on my own.  On one such occasion  I was approached by a young man in a mall parking lot who unusually I didn't brush off because he made some sense. At that point I agreed to join the CAA (Canadian Auto Club).  One of the smartest decisions I ever made.  They have rescued me many times for  battery and other assorted problems. ONce they towed my car from Toronto to Burlington and another time from Ingersol to Burlington and few other times shorter distances.  I also used their travel services from time to time.  A short while ago they sent me a certificate for being a loyal customer for 50 years.  Once in Halifax my brakes failed on a Saturday night with my wife and daughter and they steered me to where I could get help. I certainly got my money's worth and a lot of peace of mind.

I felt if I wasn't able to get another job I could at least sell the car and pay back my parents.  But my education wasn't finished.  I learned that I owed more on the car than it was worth.  My parents picked up some of the slack and felt having a car might help me get my next job.  They were right, but it took six months and finally I got a job and after a brief stop in Toronto ended up working from a Hamilton office.  I drove all over the Niagara Peninsula and Burlington with occasional trips to further areas.

This job lasted more than a year until I decided to switch jobs and started a longer career in newspaper circulation that involved recruiting, interviewing and training carriers and taking carriers out canvassing for new customers.  

One incident was unexpected.  While taking out youngsters out I would drop them at one end of a long street and wait for them at a further end.  Usually I sat in my car listening to the radio or doing some paper work, but at one stage I decided I should get out for exercise and to keep closer watch on the carriers.  On this one occasion when I got back to my car a car turned sideways to block my car and scared me.  I felt relief a few seconds later when a police car with warning lights on.  It turned out that someone had decided I was a peeping Tom.  The police were reassured I was ok, but then another moment of embarrassment resulted when I was asked to present my driver's license and my signature was missing.  They were also embarrassed and merely asked me to sign it.

I was in newspaper circulation for well over a decade and in some ways kept up a connection tied to other jobs.  I got involved in making deliveries of store copies and even carrier bundles.  I worked in Oakville, Kitchener-Waterloo, Etobicoke, Brantford and Hamilton.  Some of this involved commutes and supervising managers.  When the Etobicoke paper decided to de-emphasize paid circulation I was forced out, but given a healthy amount of money.  

For a couple of years I worked selling office supplies for two different companies mainly working in Hamilton and Burlington that included nearby small towns and reinforce my interest in maps. I drove a lot on the job.

I should confess that I had one big fault shared by many others at the same time.  Alcohol entered my life around university time, but not a concern while driving my parent's car.  However when I got a job and started settling down it was very common to join friends at parties or bars and drink and drive home.  I was conscious that I was not as good a driver after drinking as I otherwise would.  Not sure when the concept of designated driver hit my social circle, but I believe I would have been in my late forties or early fifties.  When my daughter got her license she became a designated driver for us and later my wife and I split turns being a designated driver.  It is frightening how much danger I inflicted on myself and others.  One intermediate step was to hold a New Years Eve party as I told myself to avoid not only drinking and driving, but dealing with more than usual drinking drivers.  A tradition that spans over 20 years with many good memories.

Another life style activity was sleeping in cars.  Only a few times before I did settle down.  My friend Bob Stone who is much bigger than me and drove a small sports car would a few times end up with the two of us sleeping in his car.   I also slept in my car a few times rather than impose on other people.  

In my twenties I had a tendency to drive over the speed limit and got caught.  But I learned a life license when I was called in and complained about the last ticket.  The examiner merely explained I should think about the times I didn't get caught.  Read more:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2013/08/what-have-you-gotten-away-with.html

Another side of my reckless youth was driving through bad weather.  When I worked in Simcoe County that seemed more prone to heavy snow I once drove from Collingwood through a storm when the provincial police had been taken off the road.  Lots of bad weather to contend with which actually attracted me when I discovered as a salesman it was easier to talk to decision makers during weather that not only discouraged retail customers, but also competing salesmen.  The worst drive was from Chicoutimi taking a "short-cut" over unplowed winding roads.

In Oakville one of my co workers was Rick Hill who became a good friend.  He had been a mechanic and also had a license for body work.  One of his leisure activities was pretending to buy cars with the idea of beating down the price.  On one occasion he came with me to an auto dealer and knocked the price down within about one minute.  After that it was tougher, but he got the deal much better than ever I could have.  At different times Rick helped me get some painting and other body work done at reasonable pricing. 

It is difficult to track every car that I bought, but most were held for years with new models at beginning, but more used cars later on.  Some were problems and others were very good.  For awhile I owned a van in order to make newspaper deliveries, but it didn't have a side window and I had a minor accident as a result.  Rick installed a side window for me.  My favorites were Honda.  I remember one salesman who had persuaded me to buy a car, but I wanted to delay as we were going on a plane ride to Florida in a very few weeks.  He got the bright idea to pay for airport transport which did make our trip much easier.  The same salesman later sold my wife a used car that his wife was driving.  I got more productive miles from the Honda than any other car.

Being non mechanically inclined a big concern was finding a mechanic I could trust.  An example of what to avoid was a mechanic I dropped into near where I worked in Etobicoke.  He had my car on a hoist and had me come over and shake something underneath.  He said I should not even drive home.  I did and the next day checked with a mechanic near where I lived and he laughed--he asked me if I had been asked to shake some parts underneath and told that is what they are supposed to do.  Another mechanic told me I had a serious problem requiring attention and a few days later my car was hesitating as had been predicted and I ran into Halton Honda who pointed out a sparkplug connection had not been tightened and when I asked how much I owed, he laughed and said he couldn't charge for something like that.

I did find a number of mechanics worthy of trust and I needed them because I drove a lot.  Delivery runs required stop and go with lots of idling and I drove on a lot of rough roads.  But I got a big break that I became conscious of when my sister in law Lorri got married to Kerry.  My brother in law Len, the emcee pointed out the family was not only gaining another member, but a mechanic.  Kerry was a matter of fact mechanic telling one what needed to be done and how much urgency was required.  One time after I went for some minor mechanical operation he told me I needed new tires and I replied that I would talk to my boss, meaning my wife.  I waited a little longer than expected and realized he had put on new tires.  This was at first a little annoying and I would have been furious if anyone else had done such a thing.  But I realized if he thought I needed new tires, I actually needed them and he probably saved my life.

Another similar break was when a nephew, Ryan started his own body shop, Enfield Body and there were occasions when little dings needed repairing and rust dealt with. Not only did he give relatives discounts, I felt I could trust his judgments.  Pictured to the left with his daughter Emma.

Before moving on, my sister's eulogy at my father's funeral hit me.  Like many sons who felt restrictions were unfair I held some resentment of my father, although I had overcome most of that before his death.  My sister, Rebecca recalled that my father, the truck driver loved to take different routes to see something different.  She also noted a pilot note that he was thrilled to have piloted me on an airplane flight when I was under a year old.

There was a big change in my life and cars played a big role that took me to the Maritimes and Quebec.  Check Part Two here  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2021/02/my-life-and-adventures-with-cars-part_21.html

What about those "hicks"

A tv pundit before the election pointed out that many liberals who would be aghast at prejudice against blacks, gays or other minorities really look down upon rural residents.  Michael Ignatieff author and former leader of the Canadian Liberal Party realized the biggest divide in Canada was between rural and urban citizens.  Read more: http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2014/04/fire-and-ashes-by-michael-ignatieff.html

I lived in a small, but well off city Oshawa until my last two years of high school which were completed in Haliburton, a touristy rural area. Afterwards visited my parents for a few years and had one friend still there, but when my parents moved I only visited as a salesman. 

At the University of Guelph, known for its agriculture and veterinarian programs I of course met lots of Aggie students.  They were not at all stupid, or unsophisticated (for the most part).  After graduating and several jobs I found myself as a salesman who very often worked in small towns and rural areas as my prospects were mainly pet stores, feed stores,veterinarians and tack shops.  I found more success in smaller centres, partly because I felt more comfortable.  In the cities the buyers were hardened to sales people as they saw many, many of whom were aggressive.   In smaller areas many of the buyers seemed grateful that someone would take the trouble to visit them.

Were there other differences?  Certainly.  Country music which I had avoided was popular.  Gun culture was more noticeable, but connected to hunting.  A big difference was that most people did not lock their house or car doors.  Everybody knew everybody and in general were more friendly.  I found myself liking some country music, tolerated friends who liked to hunt and adapted in other ways.  My urban girl friend (now my wife) was shocked at my casual attitude about going outdoors in the dark.  More thoughts from my experiences:http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2014/10/the-rural-urban-divide.html

A couple of developments highlighted some differences between rural and urban citizens.  A few years back the Ontario government which was Liberal decided they would shut down some gambling sites located at racetracks known as Slots.  They had been a source of money for the racetracks (and local municipalities, etc.) and had propped up horse owners and race track employees.  This was very upsetting to the race horse trade as it was threatening to jobs and breeding programs.  The government maintained that it only hurt fat cat owners, but in fact it threatened about 50,000 workers and many municipal budgets.  Apparently the provincial government had been lobbied by American casino interests who were hurt by the racetrack competition, most notably in Windsor, Sarnia and Fort Erie, all border towns.  The Slots policy had little impact on Liberal voters who were mostly located in urban voting districts.  The rural areas were mostly strong Conservative voting areas.  At the time the Liberal party was not hurt by this policy.

To any Americans it should be noted that the labels liberal and conservative did indicate political party preferences, but there was overlap at the party level with many voters of both parties being centrists.  The socialist party, the New Democrats were also strongest in urban centres and were not as concerned about the racetrack impacts.

Another interesting difference was noted when I got involved with selling tooth brushes for dogs.  As you might imagine it was a hard sell.  Strangely I had more success in urban areas where many city dwellers could understand the health advantages of brushing the teeth of their beloved pets.  I later learned there were social benefits that would reduce dog bites.  Still most city people felt the idea of sticking their hands in a dog's mouth was yucky.  Rural people, especially farmers saw no problem with handling animals in their mouths, but thought the brushing idea ridiculous and I got laughed at a lot.  They were hardened to treating animals as commodities for either food or work.   Read more:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2011/06/rural-and-urban-contrasts-towards-pets.html

I am now well past my  high school years and the world has changed.  But one trend is still happening and that is urbanization.  With that, many rural migrants feel they have lost something and a few urban dwellers tire of the rat race.  With the mass media we all are little more turned on by country music trends.  Urban crime (in the media) especially in the States has many people concerned about protection. 

I remember reading a book by Norman Vincent Peale where he pointed out that in cities it is easier for people to find other like minded people than it is in rural areas.  My last two years of high school reinforced this notion.  Most of the students were bused in from a huge area and that restricted after school activities.  My basketball team attracted those who walked to school (like myself) and those with parents/friends who could drive them after games and practices.  I found myself socializing with a wider range of ages than I had in the city.  Young people were aware of many city attractions and many yearned to leave for the city lights and jobs.  Often a student would find in universities and colleges new ideas not compatible with their upbringing.

Looking at the United States the rural urban divide is very real.  The Constitution has made small states and rural areas disproportionately powerful and it has caused the majority of voters, losses they find hard to accept.  One example would be the composition of the Supreme Court that has been set to the advantage of small states and rural voters.  That one institution has rippling effects concerning gun rights, abortions, welfare, elections and voting rights, etc.  Some would argue that such power hurts everyone.

Rural people are not stupid, and contribute to the welfare of urbanites that are not always appreciated.  Food is one very obvious one and many city dwellers have little idea where their packaged food comes from.  A slower pace of life in an insane world has its merits.  I once worked for a company that discovered that their best managers came from small towns and rural areas which is how I got hired.  Country people are thought to have a good work ethic.

In Canada we have had exchange programs where French and English students live in another language.  On an international scale student have lived in foreign countries.  These exchange programs help us understand other people.  Many urban children would have their eyes opened by more contact with their rural citizens.  At the time when my parents "forced" me to move to a small town in a rural area I was very resentful, but looking back it was one of most important moves of my life.  We would all benefit if we could better understand those country hicks or city slickers.

The photo is of city folks visiting a rural area.

Driving and Freedom

My father was a truck driver and a champion car rally driver, but it made it difficult for me to learn to drive.   I was very intimidated by his expectations.  Never learned to drive a stick shift, but did finally get my licence at age 18 thanks to high school driver ed at Haliburton Highlands Secondary School.  More on my father at http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/06/remembering-my-father.html

After graduating from university the job market didn't click for me.  In some ways I was very naive and thought prospective employers would jump at the opportunity to channel my brains and my charm, but for a very long time nothing clicked.  My parents were in despair, but finally I hit on the idea of being a social worker.

Somehow my qualifications did send the right message.  The one obstacle was that a car was required.  My parents saw that as an opportunity to get me to fly out of the nest and arranged for me to get a car and the necessary insurance.  Elsewhere I have recounted that the job only lasted six months and that I learned about how a car's value can depreciate more than the principle declines.  One of the more valuable lessons learned.  Another was driving to Wasaga Beach and Midland, places that I dragged my future wife and later my family to.

Here I was stuck with a car and payments and no job.  But the car it turned out was an asset.  Six months later I landed my second full time job and a car was a necessity.  I ended up living in Burlington with a sister and traveling on the job all over the Niagara Peninsula

Met my wife due to a series of weird chances.  Came home early on my birthday with the intention of watching my alma mater, University of Guelph play basketball on tv game of the week.  Tv didn't work and on impulse (actually thought birthday a big disappointment) drove to Guelph, about 40 minutes away and leanred game had been played the nite before.  Making the best of bad luck I called on some old friends and eventually ended going on a blind date with my future wife.  How I met my wife:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/08/how-i-met-my-wife.html

At least two fascinating things got my attention on the job.  One was the Welland Canal tunnel and the other was Niagara-on-the Lake.  I felt compelled to take my future wife and surprisingly she hadn't seen either.   Doing a little bit of calculation I managed to work in the Fort Erie area and drive over to Buffalo to watch a basketball game.  This escalated my interest in basketball which led to further escalations described in another blog.  Basketball led me on some interesting adventures:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2015/02/my-basketball-projects-part-one.html

I learned of a job from one of the people I investigated that sounded ideal--I was a big newspaper reader and had enjoyed working with young people--circulation.  My car again was an asset--supervising youngsters and collecting their money spent years doing it--taking a car load out canvassing (borrowed wife's bigger older car to win prize).  A bit more on how I won a contest with family help:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2011/02/memorable-vacation.html

I worked for several newspapers and eventually ended up as a traveling salesmen selling a variety of things described elsewhere.    This meant even more driving and more opportunities.  At this time I was enjoying the best of big cities (Toronto, later Montreal), middle sized cities, small towns and rural areas.  My personality had got the best results in rural areas but big cities had a variety of things I became mesmerized with.

My daughter, Heather decided to focus on journalism in King's College in Halifax--with my newspaper circulation background I tried to talk her out of it, but in the end respected her choice.  neither of us had ever been to the Maritimes so it seemed unnecessarily far away. I had been pretty much centred on where I lived (Oshawa, Haliburton) and Guelph, but was pleased my daughter could expand her horizons. At this time I was selling a product that was pretty much out of someone's garage, but I had the freedom to sell it anywhere in Canada.  This opened up new doors and I ended up selling in the Maritimes and Quebec.  I fell in love with Ile d'Orleans and my wife and I vacationed there and different parts of Nova Scotia where we also vacationed, Oak Island, Yarmouth, Wolfeville.  Before cars most of us lived relatively provincial lives.  People are the same everywhere, but they are also unique.  Always found new pastures fascinating.

On one Easter weekend I had planned to travel to Halifax to pick up Heather and make some sales calls   My car stalled and was going to require major repairs.  I was encouraged to rent a car, everything seemed closed, except the airport.  The most powerful car to date and it gave me a another level of freedom (or feeling powerful)

Another Maritime pickup my glasses broke--Heather ended up driving through rush hour Halifax, Montreal and Toronto on a learner's permit--helped her get her licence--worked out good for me--while she drove I could map out where to go and get rested  (she was already a capable driver)

I remember driving to the Maritimes and meeting people I had met at trade shows back in Ontario. Why would they do that?  Ironically they wanted to meet sales people to learn and didn't meet enough at their remote location.  I found I was appreciated a lot more in such areas.

Lately not drive so much--one delivery run for The Rider as one way to alleviate cash flow, but also to seek out new prospects and speed up advertiser response  plus also a little private shopping

At my father's funeral I was struck with my sister Rebecca's eulogy.  Amongst many other details she mentioned that my father loved visiting different places and taking different routes.  It seems that gene was inherited.  Furthermore my son Michael has taken it a step further and has been in several countries in Europe, Asia and Africa and now resides in New Zealand.  On a recent visit I was struck how at home he is driving on the left hand side of the road.

Freedom is a big topic and driving is only one factor.  Our ancestors were very limited in where they could go and how fast.   If you were rich you had less restrictions, but even they could go no further than a horse could take them.  So in one sense anyone with a car has more freedom than the richest person two hundred years ago.

What's to like?--no supervisor over your shoulder--listening to radio I learned where I could hit a CBC or NPR station almost anywhere.  I also listened to a variety of  tapes, some self improvement, bu also entertainment and then moving with the times to  CD.  Seeing interesting places (all places are interesting partly inversely to how familiar you are with them)--open up opportunities (wholesalers in Maritimes, Quebec)--interesting challenges such as when I decided I could make sales calls on francophones although my French skills were pathetic.  Some travel adventures can be read at: http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/07/travels-of-salesman-part-3-quebec.html to Quebec; in the Maritimes http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/07/travels-of-salesman-part-two-maritimes.html ands in Ontario, http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/06/travels-of-salesman-part-1-ontario.html

What's not to like?--Although access to a car got my career started I often wondered if I gave up opportunities that might have paid more, but did not have the advantages of driving. Driving can be expensive, unless you have a company car or a generous expense account.   For a brief time I did have a company car and have had reasonable expenses most of the time supplemented by Revenue Canada deductions.  Garage time at one stage was disruptive and time consuming.  I normally spent 10+ hours away from home or between motels, often longer.  I considered driving a perk of the job--there always seemed to be somebody willing to let me drive at my expense while they paid a commission.

Despite the current situation it seems likely the price of gas and other operating costs are going to increase to the point where fewer traveling sales jobs can be justified.  Email and the internet have given many a more practical alternative.  The future is probably more mass transit, more electronic communication, maybe more air travel for vacations.  Climate change was not a concern for most of my career and I feel a bit guilty that I was able to take advantage of the lesser awareness.

Photo story:  The Bridge to Ile D'Orleans.  I had overshot a sales call which resulted in my first view of Ile d'Orleans which in turn led to two enjoyable vacations illustrating to me the freedom of driving.

The Rural Urban Divide: Do you lock your doors?

The Royal Winter Fair in Toronto used to boast that this is when and where the city meets the country.  It is a good thing such opportunities still exist as many city dwellers have lost their connections to the land where most of our ancestors spent most of their time.  There is a feeling of superiority that each faction has towards the other, but too often misunderstanding hurts both.

Michael Ignatieff pointed out in a previous blog that he ultimately identified the rural urban divide as one of the most critical in Canada.  You can look at both Canada and the United States (really most other countries) and see similar patterns.  With increasing urbanization are we losing anything?  Read about Michael's view and more references to Haliburton:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2014/04/fire-and-ashes-by-michael-ignatieff.html

Most of my life has been lived in cities, mostly mid-sized, but my last two years of high school were spent in Haliburton, Ontario a touristy rural area.   I resented my parents for dragging me away from city life.  My city friends would sometimes complain about boredom, but they didn't realize the options they had that I didn't.  I went to the University of Guelph, primarily because I liked their semester system, but as it also included a major agricultural college I met a lot of "country hicks," only I learned they weren't "hicks."  Finally I got a city job and eventually ended up as a traveling salesman where I enjoyed working in small towns and rural areas. 

Paragraph added Apr 26/16: Some of the differences were one movie theatre with movies that had been shown in bigger cities several years before; a Junior D hockey team that became a Saturday nite habit,  a library that could easily fit inside a mid sized trailer; everybody seemed to know about everybody:

As a bit of a punk when living in Haliburton my brother Marshall and I used to watch the cottagers driving back home and thinking how ignorant they were.  To some degree this juvenile attitude was picked up from our peers.  We didn't appreciate that the cottagers did get a lot of enjoyment from the country and they did contribute significantly to our welfare. We knew we were different and of course there had to be some superiority that came with it.  Perhaps we were defensive.

What are city kids unaware of?  Food originally is not packaged.  Concrete and asphalt don't cover everything.   Of course today more and more kids rural and urban spend their time indoors, though I suspect rural kids still spend a little more outdoors.

A really peculiar phenomenon was friendships.  In the city I mostly had friends my own age and interests.  In Haliburton it was often the case that those my own age with reasonably similar interests might live a long way away.  I had never had to go on a school bus  (except school trips) and fortunately lived just one mile away from high school and walked it.  Most of my classmates came from different directions much further away and our friendships were mostly at school.  I found myself friends with those along my walk to school of different ages and interests as well as a few that walked from the opposite direction.  In cities it seems you can be choosier about who you hang out with, but maybe you don't appreciate that others are actually human too.

Coming from a city it was natural to lock our house and car doors, but learned our new neighbors didn't feel the need.  After awhile it seemed natural to forget about locking.  At the local high school dances you could find young couples "making out" not necessarily in their own cars.  As there are not as many street lights you get used to being outdoors in the dark.  This became unconscious for me, but was brought home by my city bred girl friend, now my wife who was alarmed when I casually walked outdoors at night.

Guns, at least in the country are normal for hunting. Most of my fellow students came from families where hunting was a very big deal.  Lots of businesses would shut down during hunting season.  You could feel excitement.  I was too far citified to understand, but couldn't miss observing (and keeping my mouth shut about it).

My brother Marshall and I noticed a preference for country music which at first struck us as being in a backward foreign country.  After awhile you gradually notice a few country songs that sound ok and then perhaps a few that hit home.  These days country music has infiltrated city areas and vice versa.

I got my driver's license at age 18 in Haliburton where the high school provided driver education.  I got used to driving the curvy hilly roads, but dreaded driving on four lane highways and city streets.  I did get used to city driving and learned that many city drivers were very nervous about driving on rural roads.  Many years later I found myself driving on similar roads that I used to enjoy in Haliburton, but this time in rural Nova Scotia near Windsor,  the home of Thomas Haliburton whose name was borrowed for the Ontario county and town I learned to drive in.

Many parents, likely my own, thought that moving to the country would avoid many of the problems associated with the city.  Drugs perhaps the biggest concern.  I avoided them in the city and was able to avoid them in the country.  Alcohol was very normal in both.  There were fights, but not common.

Today we live in a wired world and no one is far from the advantages offered by cities.  On the teaching staff at the Haliburton Highlands Secondary School were staff that some probably couldn't get a job in a city, but others who were very happy to live in the country.  I didn't quite make the cut for the Oshawa high school basketball team, but was surprised to see the coach switch to one of my Haliburton rivals in Lakefield.

My youngest sister, Jennifer was the only one born in Haliburton and her birth was one of the few times I visited the local hospital.  It filled its basic function, but was not much like what I had visited in Oshawa and more recently in bigger cities.  My father probably died unnecessarily because he wasn't diagnosed quickly enough in a small town hospital (not Haliburton).  Eventually he was taken to Kingston where university affiliated doctors figured out his problem, but too late.  This has squelched a former romantic notion of retiring to the country, but not the idea of it being a great place to breathe and enjoy life.  I am aware that modern technology is closing the gap between large cities and smaller centres where some serious surgical operations have been performed remotely.

The Canadian middle class dream of owning a home has driven many people to buy property miles from their job and commuting.  This often means living in a small town or even rural property.  For some this is an adjustment and many come to appreciate the benefits of living where you are more likely to know your neighbors and get some relief from city pollution.  As urbanization increases  and the population grows, commutes are getting longer in time even more than distance.  It is easy to foresee that in the future only the well off or those that can eke out a living nearby will spend much time in the country.  Others of us are becoming conscious of our short term greed hurting the environment.  In the future I see more  people will be living in high rises and taking public transportation to work.

City life suits me.  I am able to walk downtown, to the library, to a very pleasant lakefront park and have many entertainment choices.  Within a short drive I have many shopping options.  I still miss the country.  I am no longer able to justify making sales calls in the country, though I do talk to lots of country dwellers on the phone and I will be at the Royal again this year to soak in some of the country atmosphere.

In one of my high school classes a teacher asked us how many expected to live in Haliburton after graduation.  Only two held up their hands and both had fathers who owned local businesses.  My father did own a trucking business, but I wanted nothing to do with it.  For most of us the jobs are in the cities and so are a lot of other attractions.

Politically rural areas tend to be more conservative than cities and the deciding issues could be different.  Each group feels their priorities prove their superiority.  It would be helpful if they understood one another better.

There still is a big difference between country and city living, but each have their advantages.  As time goes by the two nations are merging and both becoming more diversified.  I would close by saying we are losing something as we seem to be losing a little more of the country each day. 

An earlier blog in a strange way illuminates some crucial differences between urban and rural thinking when it comes to animals.  Rural people have a closer connection to animals that produce food and are used for work.  City people tend to get more attached to their pets.  I learned about this when selling tooth brushes for dogs.  The blog post has deeper implications for the rural urban divide.  Read more here:    http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2011/06/rural-and-urban-contrasts-towards-pets.html

Remembering my Mother

There is no danger of me forgetting my mother, but unfortunately my two kids, Heather and Michael  never really knew her, although they very definitely have a little bit of her in them.  Dorothy Coakwell grew up in the north end of Oshawa and my father lived very near downtown (in fact on the site of the now current GM Centre).  They met roller skating at age 14 and both went to the same high school

My mother was the youngest of three, but married first. She also had a child first, me having that honour.  She turned 21 on January 27th and was so nervous about her first born that she went to the hospital on a false alarm, but stayed for two days until I was born on the 29th.

When my parents first married they lived in their own house, not too far from my grandparents.  Shortly after I was born my Grandfather Davidson had a stroke and my parents moved into the household.  My Grandfather died a few years later.  So for the next few decades my mother lived in the same house as her mother in law.

I don't really remember much before the age of 5, but I do remember having stories read to me.  I remember going to teacher parent nights with my mother.  Fortunately for me they were not painful experiences, partly because I was reading at higher levels than most of my classmates.  I won two costume contests at school ice carnivals due to my mother's sewing efforts.

When I was in grade two I was told I would have to have an eye operation (I had inherited cross eyes).  I was given a choice of going to Toronto (where the doctor lived) or Oshawa (where our family lived) or Bowmanville, (the furthest for the doctor).  I chose Bowmanville.  My mother visited each day.  I was blindfolded for a week and pretty bored.  She used to give me coins to feel and if I could get it right I would get to keep them.  An example perhaps of how blind people compensate by developing other senses.  She read to me a series of children's book by Thornton W Burgess that I soon became addicted to.  More on how this affected me:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2020/08/cross-eyed.html 

 One time we were having poor delivery of our newspaper and my mother was very annoyed.  She told the circulation manager that she had a young son who could do a better job.  I was actually about two years younger than the usual starting age and had no thoughts of doing it.  She went around with me that first day and it was a good thing as I was at the butt end of a lot of dissatisfied customers including one deaf mute who had trouble expressing himself.  I had a route altogether for about four years.  I later became a circulation manager (for over 15 years) and could relate to my earlier experiences.  My experiences weren't all positive, but very helpful in understanding what paper carriers were up against.  My circulation career in many ways related to my experiences with my mother;  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/08/my-career-in-newspaper-circulation-part.html

P.S. An insert from a Filipino movie review was another reminder: As a young newspaper boy I went with my mother for my first day of delivering newspapers.  What wasn't appreciated at first was that my predecessor had done a poor job and upset a lot of the customers.  It really came to a head when I pushed the door bell that activated a light.  The man who came to the door saw my red Telegram bag and actually started shaking his fist.  My mother was with me so he restrained himself, but he was obviously frustrated.  He calmed down, but I dreaded future visits to collect money for the paper, however he was a lot friendlier after that.  It was my first encounter with a deaf person and I was reminded of it when in the film the leading lady decided to solve her not yet boy friend's inability to hear the door being knocked on by setting up a light that would go off when someone rang the buzzer.  I can't really say I went on to better understand the plight of deaf people, as other than watching a few other movies such as "Children of a Lesser God" I hadn't really had any contact. 

At the end of the first week of high school was initiation day.  It was fun, but really it was humiliating by design.  I was very adamant I didn't want to attend the dance that night.  I had not had very much experience with dances and felt this was a bad time to start.  My mother was determined I would have a better social life than she had had.  I am not sure my mother actually stomped her feet, but it was pretty close.  I ended up going and having a wonderful time in a major ice breaking way.  Ironically I recounted this story in another city many years later just after my mother had died to the wife of the minister who as it turns out had been one of my tormentors.  I don't mean that in a vindictive way as he was actually very school oriented.  I would also add that the minister's brother had been one of the earliest to encourage my basketball enthusiasm.  Another irony, their father had married my parents.

Most people would be surprised to learn that I sang loudly and often at home  A few people have even commented that I had a very good voice, however I was very sensitive about singing in public. My mother confided in one of my teachers who recruited me for a small singing role in a school play. I quite enjoyed it, but unfortunately when we moved for the next grade that ended my musical career.

We moved from Oshawa to Haliburton just before I was to enter grade 12.  My Grandmother Davidson moved with us, but increasingly required difficult personal care from my mother.  In a few years she moved to a nursing home an hour's drive away in Lindsay. My mother drove every day to keep her mother-in law company.  Later my grandmother was able to move to a nursing home in Haliburton.  My mother not only visited her every day, she ended up doing favors for the patients and staff.  She was recognized as a volunteer and then to her surprise she was hired on a regular basis. Not all of us get paid for doing what we like to do.

I remember we didn't really have a lot of family traditions, but when I felt I was too old for a birthday party, my mother made a big fuss.  When I protested she said it wasn't just for me but for my younger sisters.

My Grandmother Davidson died and my mother phoned me first and asked me to phone my siblings. Her death was not a surprise, but it wasn't pleasant calling my brother and sisters.  It was an honour to be given the responsibility.  A little on both my grandmothers:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2020/12/two-grandmothers.html

When I got married there was a minor clash of cultures.  My family was more traditional Canadian, whereas my new bride's family was very family oriented.  At our wedding there was something like 200 from my wife's side and less than 50 from my side.  I remember pleading with my mother to help even up things a bit, but she felt everyone who should be, had been invited.  My father was called upon for a toast and said something to the effect that I was a very lucky guy to have such a bride and he was amazed she saw something in me.  Unexpectedly my mother got asked to say a few words and she said Sharon, my wife was also lucky.  I agreed with my father. but it was nice to hear my mother's words.

My parents moved to Cambridge and my mother was hired at another nursing home.  A little closer to my Hamilton home and visits were a little more common.

I had learned about a special Junior Shareholders club put on by Irwin Toy.  I thought that a great idea to get my kids introduced to the world of investments.  Really it was just a gimmick to get more people to buy stocks, but my two kids made a profit on it that helped pay their way through university.  I remember trying to persuade my wife to take a day off work to attend one of these meetings (where the junior shareholders got to play with new toys) and shamefully became very stubborn about it.  My parents overheard part of the discussion and quietly decided my mother would help.  For her it was an especially long day as she had to drive from Cambridge to Hamilton and then get driven to Toronto and then back.

Not too long after we learned my mother, a lifelong non-smoker had emphysema, but we were told she would live at least another ten years.  Only a few weeks later she had to put on an oxygen mask. She did not want her grand-children to remember her this way.  My oldest nephew, Steven insisted and I am grateful that he did visit his grandmother.

I remember my dad and her went to visit old friends recognizing there wasn't much time left.  They traveled to Georgetown, Oshawa, Cornwall and Haliburton amongst other places.  My mother mostly laid in bed in an RV my dad had bought to make it more comfortable for her to travel.

On one of my visits my mother confided to me she wasn't able to relax.  I gave a musical tape (instrumentals of Puccini) that she and later my father agreed helped a lot.  Around this time I went to our local library with my daughter Heather and came across a tape with the sound of ocean waves.   I hesitated and started to put it back.  For some reason Heather insisted that I get it, and after a few minutes worth of arguing I gave in.  Afterwards I decided to give a copy to my mother and again learned that she found it very effective in relaxing.  I am very grateful for what Heather did.

Things started to happen much faster.  The ten years compressed to about six months.  The week before, not realizing how close it was and not feeling comfortable I made other plans, but my sister Susan shamed me into visiting and I am grateful for that.  I found it very hard looking at my mother suffering.  I didn't know what to say.  At one point she asked me to give her some water.  I ended up spilling as much as she was able to drink.  I tried again and was a little bit more successful.  It was an effort for her to speak, but she reassured me "you did fine."  Very shortly afterwards her last words to me expressed a concern she had about one of my siblings and I tried to reassure her I would take care of it.

She died the next day after being in a coma with her sister Ruth Stewart who had driven in from Cornwall at her bedside.  Mom was only 58.  Ruth's husband, Cam gave some good advice about keeping the family together and they both did their part to help.  My cousin Donna Stewart gave me some reassurances on a promise I made to my mother.

Like many youngsters I know I disappointed my mother countless times, but she always encouraged me to do almost anything I wanted to do.  Sports, music, hanging out with my friends.  She was very accepting of my friends and girl friends over the years. 

Memories keep creeping back (May 7, 2021).  My mother was with me when I got my first speeding ticket.  My youngest sister was in a hospital in Peterborough about 1 1/2 hours away and my mother went every day and to encourage her oldest son to visit her youngest child in trying circumstances she suggested I drive.  Coming home I got carried away and probably drove about 10 miles an hour above the speed limit and was stopped by a police office who had been following us.  My reprimand was really very mild and I was allowed to finish getting home (a little more slowly).

Sometimes I feel cheated especially for my kids, but I try to focus on the good things.  Mothers are very special people.  I am lucky to have a mother in law and have my wife, the mother of my two children.

to learn about my father:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2012/06/remembering-my-father.html

to learn about my mother's close relation to her sister:  http://www.therealjohndavidson.com/2014/11/my-aunt-ruth.html

Photo taken by Miriam Barnes.

P.S.   Recently (Dec. 10, 2020) had my memory jolted when someone asked my favorite cookie.  My mother used to bake "date cookies" and I gobbled them whenever I could.  She gave the recipe to Sharon and she made one batch which I loved, but it turned out a key ingredient was lard which is considered unhealthy and I have not had any since.

Another late memory.  My mother went to the same public school class as Wren Blair who at one time coached the Whitby Dunlops (who won a world championship) and thus was often photographed by my father.  Wren went onto to coach the Minnesota team when the NHL expanded. 

HITCH-HIKING MEMORIES

Hopefully my kids think this is another boring blog.

To give some perspective just before this past Christmas my company, OKD Marketing asked each of their employees to provide a secret to be used for a Christmas party. I chose to say that I had hitch-hiked 15,000 miles. Talking to one of the young organizers I had to clarify why I had used miles instead of kilometers. The government had started a conversion program when I was indulging in my hitch-hiking career and when I started making my calculations it was far easier to use miles. That dates me and to some extent dates hitch-hiking.

I can’t remember when I started hitch-hiking. I do recall friends (including Bob Stone) encouraging me and I could not have been older than 16 (I think a little younger). In the beginning most of it was going around and near my home town of Oshawa.

I became conscious of danger, but at the time it seemed distant and very unlikely. I have ridden in cars and trucks with hundreds of strangers and feel they all had benevolent intentions. What encouraged me to overlook the danger was FREEDOM.  No car, little money and a keen interest of what was on the other side of the fence seemed a lot more important.

My parents just before I was to enter grade 12 decided to move from the urban city of Oshawa to the rural area of Haliburton, about a two hour drive away. I decided to see my old friends. I also realized that my new friends lived a lengthy school bus ride away. Then I went to the University of Guelph and found new horizons.

Always alert to information I discovered one helpful tool was using a sign with my destination on it.

Going from Guelph to Oshawa or Haliburton meant going around Toronto. On one occasion I was stopped by the police and given a fine that certainly hurt.  I learned you are not allowed to hitch-hike on a controlled access highway.  I was able to use some of the ramp areas, but they greatly reduced the pool of possible drivers.

On a long weekend, I started out from the University and did fairly good until I got to Toronto where there was a traffic jam. Nobody wanted to stop, but finally I got a ride that at first unnerved me. It was a fellow I knew as a bully in Haliburton. He had gotten a job in Toronto and was going home for the weekend. It was an awkward time for me. There weren’t that many university students from my high school class and he was a high school drop out. However people change.

The scariest ride was with my younger brother Marshall when we both decided to visit friends in Oshawa from our home in Haliburton. We got picked up by a group of young men with the driver hitting over 100 miles per hour on many stretches.  Just naming the places doesn’t really give you a picture of how scary it really was. The rural roads for the first half of the trip are very curvy and hilly. Later I learned they were visiting a lawyer in Oshawa regarding a very serious auto accident.

In Haliburton the students and teachers come from a very wide area. One of the teachers offered me a summer job doing handy work. I ended up hitch-hiking most of the time in both directions, sometimes smelling of grass, splattered with paint or a few times with insulation fibres in my skin, but it was easy.

Hitching a ride in Haliburton I got picked up by a fellow from Hamilton who told me I lived in “God’s country.” He described a scene that sounded horrific and looking back I realize he was describing the inside of a steel mill and not the city itself.   Nonetheless it turned me off the idea of ever working or living (or even visiting) the city that I now live in and love. He was right though, Haliburton is “God’s country.”

A trip from Guelph to Haliburton again took me around Toronto.  Rides seemed to be short with long waits between. An unusual vehicle driving by was a truck pulling a house, obviously going very slow. It passed me several times before the driver stopped to offer a ride. He said he would have given me a ride earlier, but he felt I would get there faster with other drivers.

For a few trips I traveled from Guelph to North Bay and back.  For a few legs of the trips I used a train pass, paid for a bus ride and got a ride from a friend of a friend. He lived in St. Catharines and thought that Guelph Line was on the way to Guelph (only in a very indirect manner). I had no idea, but headed north. The irony being that not too many years later I drove the same exit to visit a girl friend (now my wife) and also more recently for my job. I was very lucky as one driver spotted my sign and realized I was way off course. He was driving about half the distance to go home, but decided he would visit his sister in Guelph. Lucky for me as otherwise I would have been totally lost.

An unusual trip for me was from North Bay to Haliburton. At Hunstville there is a cross over to a road going to Haliburton. It was very late and I thought for the first time I had better find a place to stay overnight. However I had very little money and no connections. I decided I would hitch-hike all night and if necessary sleep in a ditch. I got picked up by a fellow and got talking.  I had been a very big fan of the Oshawa Green Gaels (who won several national lacrosse titles) and talked about a lot of different players, some of whom I remembered had come from Huntsville.  It turned out one of the players I talked about was the driver. He asked me how much money I had and then took me to a boarding house and talked the landlady into letting me stay overnight (she actually kicked her husband out of a bed). I think my lacrosse playing driver may have sweetened the offer, because I only paid $3.00 for my overnite stay in Dwight.

The next morning was another memorable one for me. A fellow and his wife were up from Windsor as he had heard the fall colours were very spectacular. They certainly were on that day and he stopped beside the road and asked me if I minded if it he took a photo of his wife with my sign against some of the trees and fallen leaves. He said he was “high on fall colours.” I had barely noticed fall colours before but with his enthusiasm I have since appreciated them a lot more, especially since I don’t get to see them as often in such a spectacular fashion.

Out of university looking for a job. On one of my trips someone suggested a particular line of work that I had never thought of before.  Based on the enthusiastic suggestion I applied to agencies all over Ontario. I got a response from one in Belleville who was interested to interview me. An almost totally new route for me that took me a couple of hours to do. I didn’t get that job, but it did help me understand better what was expected and I got hired for a similar job a few weeks later.

You meet a wide variety of people hitch-hiking and hear a lot of different stories. One I remember was one fellow who had discovered Greek music (he wasn’t Greek) and had me listen to a lot of it. It didn’t bore me at all and in fact was just another example of opening a door.

My first visit to Kitchener was done by hitch-hiking. On a Saturday with a friend we hitch-hiked for no particular reason except looking for something different.  I was impressed enough that later I sought out a job in Kitchener.

I hitch-hiked in all kinds of weather. Sometimes hot and sweaty, sometimes rainy. The worst I remember was winter weather, cold and snowy. I have spent hours in that kind of weather. To keep myself going I would keep saying my ride had just left and would be by within a short time. Eventually I did get a ride and sometimes some people felt it was a merciful thing to do in such weather. I learned later on that bad weather is not always a bad thing.  

While at university I saw a movie that involved young people hitch-hiking across Europe and had the line that if I ever get a car I will never pass a hitch-hiker. I kept my word for a few years, but eventually fear became a factor. A job, a wife and kids all made me look at the matter a little differently. Also "In Cold Blood" left a strong impression.

I regret that today it is not always advisable to trust people to do the right thing. There is nothing wrong with hitch-hiking. I am happy to help out others and am very grateful that so many people helped me and gave a lot of interesting experiences and truly enriched my life.