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Welcome to ... THE Club My Ordinary Life By Old Farts - For Old Farts! by John Gardiner Welcome to ... SPRING 2021 P A G E 10 A father carries pictures where his money used to be. (unknown) The following is an excerpt from the soon-to-be-released memoir, My Ordinary Life, by Wallaceburg writer John Gardiner, who grew up and came of age in Hanover, Ontario during the 1950’s and 1960’s. In My Ordinary Life, Gardiner tells the story of his growing-up years with a series of colourful anecdotes about the way life used to be. More of the writer’s work is available at www.johngardinerstories.com and he can be contacted at gardiner@kent.net. Money Was Always a Problem Money was always a problem for kids back in the old days….most of our parents were working stiffs and most of our Dads toiled in the furniture factories for fairly low pay. So, there wasn’t a lot of money for the kids other than what the kids could figure out how to scrape up on their own. I was immensely lucky when I was a kid because my Dad managed to get me a job as a Toronto Star paper boy. I earned 2 ½ cents for every paper I delivered, and the Star wasn’t the most popular paper in town, so I had a modest route of about 25 dailies. Saturdays were a whole lot busier because the Star had a great magazine called the Star Weekly and lots of people liked it because of the TV Guide and comics and the extended sports coverage. So I had over 50 Saturday Onlys and it was a busy time. Then, the newspaper had a big contest to increase circulation. They took all of the newspaper boys and partnered us up with an older high school kid. And the high school kid took us around and tried to sell subscriptions. And the team of high school kid and newspaper boy that got the most new subscriptions, won fabulous prizes, like the newspaper boy could win an English racing bike and I think the high school kid got some money for college or whatever. Anyway, my particular high school kid was what you would call a real go-getter. He was supposed to stick to the area where my route was already located, but instead he saw the whole town as his oyster…and he set out to win the contest. And I must say that he did. When the contest ended, I had over 60 dailies and about 155 Saturday papers. It was like – Wow – what could I say. I won an English racing bike and the high school kid won the money. And then they forgot about me. And I had to deliver and collect for 155 Saturday papers every weekend. In the good weather, I used my bike and newspaper carrier and with about four trips out from home could do it by maybe eight at night. In the winter, when I was hauling the toboggan, it would take me until ten or eleven at night to get the job done….Holy crap, did I work like a dog for a while. I darned near killed myself for 2 ½ cents a paper. But, man, was I rich. And I must admit that the newspaper boy story leads directly to the donut story and another valuable lesson I learned in life as a boy. Even at 2 ½ cents per paper, the money started to pile up. Before I knew it, my Dad was telling me that I’d built up about $300 in the Guarantee Trust. And I was well on my way to gathering up my first million and I was barely ten-years-old….One winter’s night, though, it was particularly stormy and snowy and I was out collecting for the paper and I’d missed my supper and I ended up walking past Schultz’s Bakery at about the time I was feeling particularly hungry and tired and worn out. And the big front windows of the bakery were all steamed up and a woman came out the front door as I passed, and it was like out came this amazing aroma with her and it stopped me in my tracks. Now, technically, I had no actual money even though the change purse I was carrying was full of the stuff. That’s because the money in the change purse sort of belonged to the Toronto Star and only a small cut of it was mine. My money was in the Guarantee Trust. All the same, I was drawn in through the front door of Schultz’s and was soon standing in front of a huge rack of honey dipped donuts and a vast array of other baked delicacies. A lady in a white apron approached on the other side of the counter and asked me what I’d like. I was nervous and blurted out the first thing that came to mind…..”Honey dipped donuts”……when she asked how many I wanted, I immediately replied “A dozen,” because that’s how many donuts people always got. And soon, I was back outside in the cold and stormy winter, but I was holding a whole box of donuts that were all mine…..Not like back at home where these donuts would be spread around among six people – these were mine. So, as I walked the rest of my route, I gorged myself on the donuts. I ate the whole dozen and totally and completely enjoyed myself while doing it. They were likely the best donuts I’ve eaten to this day – and I’ve eaten a lot of donuts over the years. And when I finished, I got rid of the evidence – the empty box – and made my way home. And I had learned my lesson. Saving was fun but spending was even more fun. And once I got into the spirit of it, there was no stopping me. I started buying things at a feverish pace and soon I was pretty well broke. And I’ve stayed broke pretty well right to this day but have somehow been able to avoid living in the street or under a bridge…. and that’s mostly because people have been kind to me and because of my loveable and charming personality.
The magazine is distributed in most of Sarnia-Lambton, and it’s free! Welcome to ... THE Club A shop for both the modern & classic Quilter! 4247 oil heritage rOad, petrolia • 519-918-2226 • fabrics • patterns • classes now an authorized Dealer for: Open tuesday to Saturday 10 am - 5 pm Shop on our website too... www.stitcharie.com Jogging The article in the magazine I picked up in the doctor’s office claimed that age should not be a barrier to a regular exercise program. The author cited examples of people in their forties, fifties and even sixties who dramatically improved their physical condition by adopting a regular routine of weight lifting, calisthenics or jogging. The article was so convincing that when the doctor finally called me in I asked if he thought my old body could still handle the rigors of physical exertion. After thirty years of doing little more than exercising my options, I wondered if it could handle a little jogging. He liked the idea. “Exercise will do you a world of good,” he said. “Of course you’ll have to take it easy at first, but there is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t exercise, and every reason why you should.” I went back to the waiting room, reread the article, and decided to give it a shot. At the very least, if I timed it right, it would get me out of helping with the dishes. The first night was a disaster. About half a mile from home my leg muscles decided they’d had enough, wound themselves into tight, little balls and quit functioning. I had to pay a kid with a wagon to haul me home. It would have been less humiliating to call an ambulance. In three days the muscles had relaxed By A.C. Stone, Windsor From Daytripping Magazine March-April 2002 a little and with effort, I could walk almost normally. I decided to try again. This time I waited for dark. I’ll admit I walked further than I ran, but at least I completed the eight block course I’d laid out for myself. The only problem was fighting off the dogs which objected to me invading their territory. Within a week I had become a real pro. When a car slowed down to marvel at my progress I just ignored it. I found I could take a healthy kick at any dog that got close enough without even missing a stride. And I discovered an advantage to jogging at night. Once a week most people put out their garbage. Now I don’t believe in collecting somebody else’s junk, but you’d be surprised at how much really good stuff people throw away. Getting around there at night not only gave me first crack at it, but in the dark, who’s to know? That’s how I got the radio. I’d finished the first lap of the trip and was heading back home again when I spotted it; an old table model radio about eighteen inches long and a foot high. All it needed, I told myself, was a battery and it was just the thing for my work bench in the garage. I’d never have to miss another ball game. Since I was on my way home anyway, it wasn’t all that far to carry it so I put it under my arm and kept on jogging. When the car passed me I was running under a street light so I wasn’t really surprised when it slowed down. In fact, I didn’t even look up until it stopped fifteen feet in front of me. Two of the Country Yarns Everything for your Kning, Crocheng, Cross Stch & Needlepoint Needs! - Menon this ad for a 15% discount - 2776 LaSalle Line, PETROLIA • 519-882-8740 (BETWEEN MANDAUMIN & WATERWORKS) Wed.10-5 • Thurs.10-6 • Fri.10-5 • Sat. 10-3 www.country-yarns.com biggest cops I’ve ever seen uncoiled from the front seat and blocked my route. “Now, just what is it we have here?” “Hi officers. Just getting a little exercise.” “I can see that, but if you want music while you run you should buy yourself a Walkman.” ”Oh, the radio? Just a piece of junk that I picked up off the street back there. Somebody had thrown it out.” “I’ll bet you have a lot of luck that way. You often find things before they get lost?” “Aw, come on fellows. All I’m doing is a little jogging.” “Oh, you’re a jogger, are you? Does he look like a jogger to you, Bill?” “Hey, I don’t know...but if he’s a jogger shouldn’t he be wearing one of those suits of baggy underwear and have running shoes with stripes on them?” “That’s what all the joggers I’ve ever seen looked like.” “Maybe you’d like to jog down to the station and explain to the sergeant why you’re running around a nice neighbourhood, in the middle of the night, carrying a radio under your arm. I’m sure he’d be interested.” And so I got a free ride to Police Headquarters. Naturally, when my wife arrived to explain that I always jogged in regular street clothes and the radio refused to pick up even the local stations, I was released with an apology. “With all the break-ins in your area lately, we can’t be too careful, you know.” The next day I switched to calisthenics. At least if I exercise in the house all I have to put up with is my wife’s comments... and now I can drown them out by turning up my radio. Established in 1978, Lambton Pharmacy continues to provide caring, professional pharmacy services to residents of the beautiful town of Petrolia and Lambton County. 4130 Glenview Rd, Unit 2, Petrolia 519-882-0650 Danielle Edgar, B.Sc., PharmD Pharmacist Monday–Friday 9–6 Saturday 9–12 Do you want to reach our age 55+ readers? advertise in the club Call 519-491-1676 info@welcometotheclub.ca The An elderly couple was attending church services. About halfway through she leans over and says to her husband, “I just let out a silent fart, what do you think I should do?” He replies, “Put a new battery in your hearing aid.” Retirement Village Downtown Retirement Living in a Quaint Victorian Town www.albanyretirementvillage.com Call to Book a Tour: 423 Albany Street Petrolia, ON 519-882-3157 Enjoy Friends | Enjoy Independence | Enjoy Life SPRING 2021 “All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” (Abraham Lincoln) P A G E 11
Page 1 and 2: Welcome to ... THE CLUB ...which is
Page 3 and 4: Welcome Back, to that same old plac
Page 5 and 6: But those dreams have remained and
Page 7 and 8: Yeah, we tease him a lot ‘Cause w
Page 9: Most of the articles in here have b
Page 13 and 14: As you may have guessed by now, it
Page 15 and 16: In this difficult time, thank you f
Page 17 and 18: Thank you to all the local advertis
Page 19 and 20: Laughter is the best medicine - her
Page 21 and 22: It’s the advertising that makes a
Page 23 and 24: Some of the articles are from the a
Page 25 and 26: You’re welcome to send articles a
Page 27 and 28: We’d like to hear your honest opi
Page 29 and 30: Your next issue will come out aroun
Page 31 and 32: If your business offers anything to
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Page 35: Thanks again - keep this copy or pa

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