Who We Are -What we make of ourselves.

Who would have thought back in high school that I would end up being a Financial Adviser/Investment Adviser, by day and an aspiring writer by night?

Unfortunately, back in the day, I really had no use for math. It was akin to memorizing the rules of Scrabble without ever playing the game. Much later, that point of view changed. I went back and recaptured what I had left behind - but with motivation.

I thought I might like to be a Lawyer - but the reasons were too superficial, so after doing the B.A. in Political Science and a good deal of thinking...I thought "not".

To be fair, who really knows in high-school, what they would like to be by profession, if never having had a stab at experiencing a given trade beforehand? My guidance councellor -Mr. O'Connor? - recommended my becoming a mechanic. I was insulted at the time given my IQ, but in university after having read Zen and the Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig, I thought ...hmmmm.

Yet, I look back at such people as Tom McKee and think, "Now there is someone who knew what he wanted, -went out and did it."

He said he wanted to be a lawyer, trained to become a lawyer and yes, became a Lawyer.
I believe, given the discipline shown in high school and the fact that he actually seems to have gone in such a straight line, that he is probably successful too. But who really knows? I have not seen him since high school.

Then there's the lovely Anja Mechielsen, whose first word in her year book ('69), was 'Travel'.
Her stated ambition -'Airline Stewardess'. Can you guess what she is today? Right- a Stewardess.

Perhaps it's about following a dream or at least a consistent direction?

Norman Perry comes to mind.
Do you recall his story?

I'll tell the myth version of it.
Why myth version ?- Simply because I'm not sure how much is fact, versus fiction added by the retelling of the story by all our old friends over the past 35 years.

When I was 8 years old, my parents moved us from our modest apartment in Ville-La-Salle to a house in Chateauguay, away from the long Hockey season of the city arena to short season and hose sprayed rinks where pins and needles became a dear feeling, ever-so close to my toes.

Our Seigniory Park team had one real claim to fame - besides the twins who played defence and stood still as Bob Oliver skated crazy eights around and between them to finally score and put us out of our misery.

That claim to "local fame" was our goalie, - Norman Perry. And not for his prowess in the net.

Norman could always be depended upon for having the very best of equipment from colour coordinated Montreal Canadian uniform, through to the best pads of red white and blue.

Norman, more locally known as 'Door Mouse' -since we all took on nick names when we turned 12, was and probably still is, a natural organizer, not patient with those not having something of value in the way of effort, to contribute to the latest project.

The summer of the Beatle music emerged out of nowhere and Norman acquired a set of Ludwig drums. I suspect drums presented the easiest way of not having to spend five years acquiring musical talent. Of course it was also very tempting for us in the peanut gallery to quip that his parents had money. But this was not accurate. I'm sure his parents were 'of means' to whatever extent, but this should not be seen as the source of Norman's ability to acquire 'only the best'.

Norman had a paper route - at minimum one- which allowed him disposable income. He was, in short, money wise and highly capable of cutting through the circle to get to his goal.

It could also be that our gang got into a scrum and exercized the arcane process of decision making,- throwing 'evens and odds' and then to make doubly sure, perform the ritual 'one potato, two potato, three potato four', to determine who would play guitar-bass, lead, rhythm and then who ended up with the short straw, to play drums.

Norman, in all summers, could be counted upon to lead us into some form of unique if not exciting organized activity. From having us all write and sell a weekly newspaper for two weeks as a method to acquire funding, to equipping ourselves with MAN FROM UNCLE secret agent cases that could shoot real plastic bullets, - or to organizing a boxing match out back of Poirier's featuring a "Fight to The Finish" between the ... "5 ft. 7in. muscular Kaj Larsen in this corner representing Northern Circle and his opponant, weighing in at a full 92 pounds, almost a full five foot 2 and 1/2 inches, the lightening quick, Leslie "Torn-Knees" McConnell, representing Seigniory Park." ( I believe this a was supposed to be, in actual fact -and unbeknownst to me, a comedy in action. Who would have thought my dad's lessons to me in boxing would one day pay off? My Dad was a 'Golden Gloves' one year in St.Henri Montreal. -Sorry I digress, this is supposed to be about Norman.) And yes even this digression, is, to some extent an element of Norman's method. But I think the outcome of it surprised him -everybody else, not the least of which - was me. I won.

The summers and winters eventually gave way to changes in our lives. And sadly, Norman's dad, Ken Perry, passed away when we were all teenagers in grade 9/10. He was a good man. My Dad and Mr. Ken Perry and Mr. Harry Gulkin, used to water the Seigniory Park rink on freezing February nights all by themselves. And just as sad for all of us kids, Norman, Stevie, Linda (their older sister) and Mrs.Perry soon after, moved back to the city.

But this is where the mythical adventure to his greatness begins.

I am told that Norman had a number of paper routes (The Star and The Gazette) delivered by him, brother Stevie and others. It is also thought he was able to sell these as little franchises before leaving, although I doubt this, I think he simply understood at a very early age, the secret of saving money and having it create self perpetuating income streams. (I show people how to do this today.)

It is said, that after a season back in the city, Norman took his savings, rented a 'hole-in-the-wall' near the Montreal forum, purchased music equipment 'on spec' - drum skins, guitar string packs, electronic gear etc. from Steve's music across town and packed his new abode. Norman's sister Linda, may have been a friend of band promoter Donald K. Donald -whose office was right around the corner from the forum. From there, legend has it, he had his sister introduce him to DKD, whereupon he taking the man for a walk over to his 'space'.

I can just imagine Norm... " Mr. Tarlington" he might have said, "Just look at this! Here we are across from the forum, no other music equipment supply store around for miles - The Stones come to play and Keith Richards is running low after having already played New York, Chicago, and Toronto. One of Mick's michrapones is on the fritz again, Charlie put a hole in his bass tom-tom... Mr.Tarlington -DKD if I may, -where is the line of resistance? Where do you think they'll go for replacements, across town or here?"

I can just see the light going on above DKD's head and thinking, "This kid, not even 19 years old, has figured one of businesses greatest lessons! Damn! I should have had this angle first. It's my line business !"

In my minds eye, DKD looks at Linda, then to Norman and smiles that big Donald K. Donald smile.

The rest is history or myth.

So Norman apparently pulls out of Westmount Highschool to do business. No CEGEP no University, no degree, just vision and action. Chutzpah!

The myth goes on. Not only do DKD and Norman Perry start one store; they replicate the concept across Canada and the USA. Allegedly after being introduced to Norman, Mick Jagger, -no slouch at business opportunities himself, asks Norman what he thinks of perhaps taking control of the Stones Merchandise concession inside the Form, -if all goes well, perhaps consider setting up in venues at all stops along the tour in North America.

So then, one goood turn deserves another, all DKD promoted bands from Jethro Tull to Pink Floyd come through this North American set-up, using the Norman Perry/DKD supply chain.

If this is true, it is one hell of a story. It also reinforces one thing I know....we are responsible for making our own lucky breaks. Norman was damned good at this. I bet his mom is proud.

So I guess at the end of the day, one should do what one has a penchant for- and reinforce it with a "plan" of action, based upon a vision or dream.

And don't stop dreaming.
It is never too late.
Everyday we have a new page.
Right Fred?