At the age of ten my sister twelve years my senior than myself asked me if I would like to join the Crescent Lanes Bowling League located on Ottawa St. in Windsor Ontario. Every Saturday morning for a number of years I made the bowling alley my second home. Occasionally my Father would take me to bowl and watch every move I made.

   This was serious stuff! Maybe this is where I inherited my Father’s temper, as he certainly did give me enough graphic examples in living Technicolor. Every time I made a shot that was not up to his expectations, which were no less than perfection, Father would gesticulate to the point where words were no longer necessary. I could have sworn once that I was witnessing the beginnings of American Sign Language! Father had the ability to

change the color of his face faster than a traffic light in a silent movie though he had the advantage of living color. When I would protest and say,
“Dad it’s only a game!” Pop would retort
“Stop fooling around concentrate, you’re never going to get anywhere like that!”
Dad would have been lucky at that point in time if he’d bowled three times in his life, but he knew I could do better than that! I’d never bowl a three hundred game that way! Ironically if I lost my temper out of frustration at my developing skills, Father would exclaim ever so calmly.
“You’ve got to have some patience son, throwing a tantrum isn’t going to get you anywhere!”

     Looking back I wonder where was anywhere and were my Father and

myself speaking of the same place? When my Dad was a young boy he’d won a mathematics scholarship. Yes my Father was a very bright man. The headmaster from my Father’s school went so far as to go to my Grandfather pleading my Dad’s case but all efforts were futile as Granddad has decided that his son had to go out and work to help support his eight siblings.

   My Father was one of the most loving caring parents a son could ever ask for. His reasoning in bringing up my brother, sister and myself carried all the best intentions. As a result of his Father’s decision he’d had to work as a painter and decorator all his life. Demanding a great deal of skill his vocation was also extremely labor intensive. Father built up his own business for more than twenty years in Newcastle England, where we lived