Me In A Nut Shell

[DanoDMano]

So this is awesome Leo, thanks brother.

I've been journaling for probably over 35 years now (I'm 50) and I'm so excited to start anew right here. The ironic thing about this is it's my ego working overtime thinking there will be others reading my stuff. Where in the past very few have. Shut up ego, you have no control here. (Yes I do) No, no you don't. (We'll see) yes, yes we will.

Anyways, I can't wait to get started but at the moment I'm just a little too tired to get to the meat and potatoes just yet. Anyone reading I ask that you stay tuned cause man do I have some stories (I know Leo, they're just stories, but never the less) to share with my other likeminded friends.

[Ayla]

[Leo Gura]

Well, now you gotta deliver!

[Therealbigyo]

Can't wait for the stories! I'm 26. I'm sure I can learn a bunch from your experiences. 

 

Cheers

[DanoDMano]

Man I've been so busy reading our posts and making a comment here and there that it seems I'm neglecting my own journal entry. So here goes.

Just in case I get a few readers I feel the need to give a bit of background about myself. I'm 50 years old and live in the awesome country of Canada. (2nd happiest country on earth by the way). I can't remember who's first but I'm quite sure it's one of those European countries (and I wouldn't doubt it in the least if it was Amsterdam).

Anyway, I grew up with a very religious Baptist mother and an uneducated, nonreligious, hillbilly father. My parents couldn't have been any more different from each other. My parents were married because of me and the barrel of my grandfathers shotgun. My mom was a school teacher, my dad was a produce manager. Every Sunday my mother would take me and my siblings to church while my father continued to perfect his golf swing. 

I rarely missed a Sunday. In fact most of my social activities revolved around the church. Even summers consisted of daily Baptist themed camp. It was simply a way of life for me. Yet my dad would have nothing to do with it. Oh he tried going every once in awhile to appease my mother and the in-lawsbut it just wasn't in him. But I knew he was a very spiritual man. He believed in a higher power, just not a religious one. I had the benefit of seeing more than one side of this thing we call spirituality.

Here's a little story of learning right and wrong at an early age. I grew up in a very small town. Everyone knew everyone else. I was seven years old when my mother and I walked into my Grandmothers (an extremely Baptist woman) hardware store for my first time. While my mother was paying for something at the counter I looked up to see the most amazing things I'd ever seen. Towering over me was the grandest display of uncut keys I'd ever set my eyes on. Every shape and size. Brass keys, silver keys, round keys, square keys, house keys, car keys, (you get the picture). Anyway, I just had to have one so I put one in my pocket. When I showed it to my mom when we got home she was furious. We then stormed back to the store where I then had to admit my wrong doing to my Grandmother and give back that beautiful key. For my punishment I was given a broom and made to sweep the floors and tell each new customer that walked through the door about my evil deeds. I've never been able to look at those key displays the same way again.    

 Well, I was twelve and at my annual Baptist summer camp when I guess you'd say I was "saved". I remember this like it was yesterday. Something happened to me that day, I know it. At that point I knew my life was changed forever. I found something, or something found me. At the time I thought it was Jesus, now I know it was something even greater. It wasn't enlightenment or perhaps it was, I can't say because I've never felt it again, but it changed my young life. For a brief moment I was life and I could never question right and wrong ever again. I knew what it was, yet I would battle with my ego about this truth for my entire life. 

Well that's all for now. Stay tuned I have so much more to share.

[DanoDMano]

Once I thought of myself as "saved" I began being more conscientious of the people around me and those I'd let into my "circle". My friends were very like minded and also went to church on a regular basis. I remember my life as content and peaceful. I played hockey and I seemed to have success in everything I did. I felt blessed and content with everything in my life.

Then my life shattered when inevitably my mother and father who were so different in every way decided to split. My mother who had no interest in sex and my dad who couldn't get enough of it. My mom who was an intellectual and my dad who, well... let's just say his favorite reading material was Andy Capp from the funny papers. He drank and partied while my mom probably had a glass of wine every new years eve. It was a surprise to everyone except me and my brother and sister that they lasted 14 years.

That's about the time I turned. I guess I lost my faith in anything good and went a bit berserk. I moved out of the small town I'd known all my life with my father and basically had to start my life over. No more church, no more friends, no more supervision. I learned all things negative. Drinking, drugs, sex, skipping out of school, theft, destruction. During all this my heart knew everything I was doing was wrong and every time my conscience rose up I'm sure it was my ego that stomped it into the ground and silenced any appeal for sanity.

By the time I turned 18 I'd attended 5 different high schools. Every time I'd made any friends we'd move and I'd have to start all over again. My ego had so much control over my life that when any feelings of guilt arose from my actions they would always be justified with my victim mentality. I also had no problem using others (so called friends) for my own gain. I've lost count on how many girl friends of friends I'd have an affair with and not think twice. I was a scum bag and either didn't care or justified every evil deed with an egotistical excuse.

Two months after finishing school (I graduated from grade 12, but it took five years) my father was moving into his girlfriends house and let me take over his place, furniture and all. I got my first credit card with a $5,000 limit so I went and blew the whole amount on an awesome audio system, clothes, and a bunch of other expensive stuff to make me look cool to my friends and of course women. To share expenses I let a casual friend move in.

My first real job was outside of the city and closer to my mothers house so on occasion I'd just stay there to be closer for the next day. Then there was a week where I didn't go home until the weekend and when I final got there I walked into an apartment that had been cleaned out. There was not one piece of furniture and not one piece of clothing in the closets. It was completely empty.

I called the police. The roommate said he'd simply moved out, the landlord said he'd walked into an empty apartment. Each blamed the other. The police could find no proof from either so there was nothing they could do. This was my first lesson on what I call karma. What goes around comes around. For the first time in a long time my ego had nothing to say.   

[DanoDMano]

Here's another story about how karma can bite you right in the ass. Though I'd learned a lesson the biggest one was about my own naivety.

I had a friend that had stolen some valuables from one of his relatives and asked me to go to Toronto with him to cash them in at a pawn shop. I was informed that we'd hop on a bus, get a hotel room and party like it was 1999. I was 17 at the time, had never been to the big city, so immediately agreed. We each purchased a one way ticket and headed out excited as two teenage girls on prom night.

When we cashed in the stash we'd gotten three times more the value than what we thought we'd get so our excitement was through the roof. Two teen boys with a pocket full of money and no one to tell us what to do. We were living the dream.

We got an expensive room at a high end hotel on the main drag where all the action was. Our first stop was the biggest mall in the country where we'd buy some nice clothes (I bought an expensive leather jacket, it was January and -20 outside) for what we figured would be the night of a lifetime. We were standing by a railing having a smoke (you could smoke inside in those days)  when a guy our age came up to us and asked for a light. We struck up a conversation with him, when he stated that he could easily get us into some clubs to drink and pick up girls, we could hardly believe our luck. 

We proceeded to drink and party all night. We paid and he paid, this guy definitely wasn't a freeloader as far as we were concerned. We bar hopped   until closing time and as we stumbled outside at around 2 am our new friend  gave us his phone number and an address of a party he knew of for the next day. It was snowing like crazy and as cold as a witches tit. The guy finally informed us that he had an hour long trip to get home. My friend and I looked at each other and nodded in agreement that we should invite him over to stay with us in our room and do more drinking. We could then just head out in the morning and attend this party we were now invited to.

You probably have guessed by now the outcome. Waking up hung over the next day and hardly remembering anything that had happened, we looked around to discover that everything except the clothes we'd passed out in were gone. Our wallets and the money, my new ill gotten jacket and even our shoes had disappeared. Lucky for me I still had a pair on my feet when I passed out, but my friend had not and his were gone. We were left with nothing but the clothes on our back. and not a nickel to our name.

We tried calling the number he gave us, fake. We tried the party address he gave us, fake. Even his name was fake. We hung out at the mall where we'd first met him. Yeah right, we couldn't even call the police. The only thing the hotel provided us with were a couple of coats and one pair of shoes from the lost and found. It took us twelve hours hitch hiking before we finally made it back. So again, what comes around goes around. Some lessons in life need to be learnt the hard way, and this was definitely one of them. But then again, I suppose it could have turned out a lot worse.

Just a little side note: My friend got caught by his relatives and had to work part time after school for months to pay them back.

[DanoDMano]

With no place to live and absolutely no possessions I had to move into my mothers apartment.

For the past few years (since grade 11) A few friends of mine had a garage band and I was the lead singer (ironically called Deceiver). We played heavy metal cover bands like Sabbath, Maiden, Priest, Cooper etc. We played at parties and a few battle of the bands type gigs but to be honest we weren't that good. I had a mustache and hair on my chest for about a year so a majority of bars allowed me in without proof of I.D.. I became friends with many of the local bands in the area and had gotten to know them very well over a couple years. The number one complaint was that they'd never make it big while playing in this dead end city. That's when I decided to become a manager to these guys and make the good ones famous. I started Majestic Industries with a buddy and his $2,000. We placed an ad in the local paper and set up auditions for the local best and brightest talent in the city.  

Within a month we'd signed six very talented bands ranging from heavy metal, hard rock, and pop. The next step was to leave the city and attempt to organize a road trip / tour for our talent. We took professional pictures and recorded some demo tapes and hit the road. We didn't make much money but we were able to get most of these guys a brighter future in music. One of our bands (called Wicked Angel) actually went on to record a few albums in the mid 80's. They also helped me start my career in the entertainment management industry, but not In the way you'd first think.

Here's the story. At one time we were in Toronto attempting to get our bands booked in some of the well known clubs in the circuit. One club, called the El Mocambo had bands like The Stones, The Who and many other famous bands attend their stage over the years.

We found out that in order to book there we needed to see a guy named Steve Thompson of ST Productions. We went there. He told us he had an opening that weekend  at the Harbor Castle Hotel in downtown Toronto. We wouldn't get paid but we could showcase our talent to anyone we wanted and also charge a cover to cover expenses. This deal also covered 6 rooms in the hotel for 3 days and 2 nights for free. We accepted.

Now I could share with you how all this went down but I'll make it short. Wicked Angel ended up throwing a party in their room with a bunch of groupies after their set and completed trashed the place. They also proceeded to clean out the bar fridges of every room. (not included in the deal by the way). After these events I thought I'd end up going personally bankrupt because of the enormous bill we were sure to get afterwards.

While waiting in the lobby for Steve Thompson to come and settle the bill with me I thought of just running away and avoiding the situation all together but I stayed. Thompson goes to the check out and I watch as this three page expense bill churns from the machine. He hands her his credit card and pays the bill in full. Turns around and comes towards me and I'm shitting bricks. Thinking I'll be run out of town and sued up the ass.

He says; "Wow, you guys really know how to party eh?"

Then says; "By the way kid, anybody who sticks around to face the music after a bill of $5,000 shows a lot of integrity in my book. If your ever looking for job just give me a call, here's my private number."  and then hands me his business card.

I replied right then. "When can I start?"

 

 

[T1r1on]

I just read all of your posts. You're a good writer. Once I started I didn't stop.

My mom and dad split up when I was about 17, but my dad was in prison for about 4 years prior. He was on drugs, and did some stupid stuff. I didn't switch like that though. I had to help keep what was left of our family floating.

I enjoyed this so far. I can't wait for the next story.

[DanoDMano]

@T1r1on  Thanks man, you have no idea how happy that makes me feel. My ego started doing summer saults in my head, got me all dizzy and shit.

People have no idea what's it's like to get up rooted and have your whole life turned upside down after their parents split unless they've lived it themselves. Then again sometimes it's for the better and I'm just wondering if perhaps in your case this is true. I'm glad you knew right and wrong and choose the right path for yourself. You could have just as easily done the other and blamed it all on your upbringing. A perfect excuse for most.

I'm sure you didn't know it then, but those experiences will actually help you in your future. They teach you that life isn't easy and that we all most go through trials and tribulations in order for growth and to know what's really important in life.

By the way, I'm 50 so there's another 30+ years of this stuff. My journals go back that far so anything I've forgotten is written down. It's cool to look back on them, have the memories come flooding back, and then being able to retell them here.

Later Brother.    

[DanoDMano]

So I went home that day and told my business partner the agency was all his. I was moving to Toronto and working for Steve Thompson Productions. He had some of the biggest bands in the country. Kim Mitchel, Helix, Honeymoon Suite, Lita Ford, Ronny Hawkins, and even produced the annual Elvis festival (which was my first gig by the way).   

I was there two years before I finally got totally disenfranchised with the whole industry itself. (Lies, deceit, back stabbing / scratching.) It was a use and be used mentality. I was a small town boy in a big city cesspool of vermin. It really is dog eat dog and I was a pug up against the bulldogs. This life just wasn't in my nature and I came to the realization that I had no chance of succeeding. The money was ok, but it wasn't enough to match with the lifestyle. When I walked away I had little to no money in my bank account.

Back in my day there was this new thing they called VHS tapes. Small, medium and large independent mom and pop video rental stores were opening in every town and major city in the country (there was no such thing as franchises like Blockbusters back then). I had a friend that owned one of these stores. He had a rather small store compared to his neighborhood competition and he was afraid he'd be going under soon. 

I'd learned a lot about advertising and promotion from the music industry and came up with an idea. The trick is volume. It was all about numbers. The more customers that walk into the store the more money you make, regardless of price. I designed a simple coupon book that offered free and discounted movie rentals. It worked out that for $20 you received $100 worth of movies. I made a deal that I'd get $10, he'd get $10 and just honor the coupons as they were presented. He accepted.

I began knocking on doors and simply asked "Hi, do you rent movies"? (80% of households did back then.)

At first I was selling about 10 a day. Then 15, then 20 a day. Soon the store owner had a continuous flow of customers renting everyday of the week.

It wasn't long before I was presenting the idea to other video stores (with a proven reference of it's success) and signed up more stores. Soon I had traded in my 68 Camero for an eleven seat van and hired other salespeople to sell the coupon books as well. I was clearing on average $300 cash a day. This was around 1986 and a lot of money in those days.

I ended up spending the next three years traveling the country, going town to town, city to city with my coupon book sales team. I lived in hotel rooms. I ate at restaurants for every meal. I hit the bars and clubs every single night (with numerous one night stands included). I could sleep in until 2pm every day. I could spend every dollar I had in my pocket and know by the same time tomorrow I'd have more. This was truly a worry free life and there's not a single thing negative I can write here about that experience except one. Other than that I absolutely I loved it all.

  

      

 

[T1r1on]

I lived in oklahoma city for a few years. One good place and 4 horrible ones. I got held up once for a walkman. I completely unerstand the cesspool part of that.

That's awsome you made so much off cupons. And I still have a vhs player and a ton of movies. When all of the rental stores closed down that was the time to get them. And we did.

[DanoDMano]

I'm a bit surprised you even know what a Walkman is. Talk about wrong place wrong time eh?

Dude that's so old school, VHS is yesterday. Convert those babies to CDR before it's too late. Those recordings will be obsolete in another 10 years (like the 8-track and Beta). And the Walkman lol.    

[T1r1on]

Mix tapes are awsome though, and I guess I shouldn't mention the vynals I have either. Lol

[DanoDMano]

Here's a freaky but absolutely true story. Please feel free to comment if you wish.

During my three years of traveling I rarely (twice by letter) contacted any family about my whereabouts, how I was doing, or if I was even safe and alive. This either had to do with my independents, my pride or just plain selfishness. I always thought to myself that I'd get in contact once I thought of myself as a success, which I guess never came to fruition and never really occurred to me that anyone might be worrying about me. 

I'd been away for about two years when one day I was sitting alone in my van. This is the freaky part.

Out of the blue and as clear as day my father spoke to me in my head. He said. "Dan, I'm sorry son, but I'm gone. Please prepare yourself for when you call home and stop feeling so guilty for the things you've done in your life. Everyone makes mistakes. Goodbye son."

That's it. Nothing more. I instantly began sobbing like I'd never done in my entire life. To me this was absolutely real and I had no doubt in my mind that my father had just died. 

I let time pass and waited (exactly one year to the day) and around this time my first daughter (I have three now) was born. I knew it was time for me to call home. My little brother answered the phone. We talked, laughed and cried (but avoided the subject of my father all together). Then my brother finally says. "Dan I got some bad news about dad." It was no shock to me at all. I stopped him and said. "I know, he's gone eh?" He was silent for a moment then said. "Yeah he died exactly one year ago today. How did you know that?" I then proceeded to tell him the story I just shared with you. 

Now I know there are going to be believers and doubters about this story. But in my own mind it happened and strengthened my belief in the fact that there is more to life (and death) than meets the eye. I'm still not sure what that is, but I have no doubt that there is something and that there is nothing to worry about when it is our time. For how could that have happened to me if there was not a beyond? Perhaps a story like this might even strengthen your belief as well. My hope is that it does.  

      

[DanoDMano]

On ‎2‎/‎14‎/‎2016 at 8:11 PM, T1r1on said:

Mix tapes are awsome though, and I guess I shouldn't mention the vynals I have either. Lol

@T1r1on  Don't you mean mixed cd's? And as far as albums, I don't think they'll ever completely go by the wayside. Their still making turntables and probably always will. 

[T1r1on]

@DanoDMano Nope. I mean mix tapes. I do have mix ccd's though, alot of them. My mom had a simmilar experience when her mom died. They were fighting at the time, and she got a message to make amends before it was too late. She did, and then my grandma dided. It's a shame I never got to meet her. 

Edited February 16, 2016 by T1r1on

[DanoDMano]

@T1r1on  I think this type of thing happens more than we know. I sometimes wonder if there isn't other dimensions that you can pass through after you leave your body which then allows you to find loves one for a final contact before moving on. I'm always researching this stuff and almost never close my mind to the possibilities. I try and stay open to all the angles. Later brother.

P.S. Oh I'm sure you'll get the chance to meet her in the future. Knock on wood it's the far distant future though.  my first posted face.

[T1r1on]

I do alot of reaserch on it too. I have always kind of looked forward to dying in a way. It's like the next big journey. I just want to make this one amazing so the next one is outstanding.