And one more thing…

Like the great Steve Jobs, I have “one more thing” to add to my week of escalating current event blog posts as part of my How to NOT Write Like a Loser: Exercise #4 – Write Everyday plan. After completing four posts today, this will be my fifth and official end to the week-long writing task that had me push to write more each day.

But what exactly should this one be about… gotta be something monumental to close out the show. Maybe something controversial or extreme, something that will really offend some people or blow their minds with intellectual stimuli.

I doubt I’m capable of anything like that, so I’m just going to tell you a small little story. This is something that happened to me years ago, when I was just a child growing up in suburban Toronto, a place where I have recently returned after years living abroad.

Back then, I used to be in a wheelchair and it was just me and my older sister who had to work a couple of jobs just to make ends meet. Unfortunately, one of these places was a seedy bar where she ended up getting caught up with some of the… I guess you’d called them bikers… who frequented the place.

Then one day, when my sister was taking me for a walk in the park and we bumped into a few of these guys. They were rough looking, but remember this was the 80s so they had sleeveless jean jackets and bandanas, but at the time that was pretty intimidating stuff. My memories of what happened next are kind of blurry, there was some kind of commotion or argument and these guys knocked me over and then all the pillows from my wheelchair spilled out into the park.

Along came this one guy, and older guy who stepped in and ran off the bikers, helped me back into my chair and picked up all the pillows and stuff that had fallen out. He was a normal looking guy in jeans and a button-up shirt, not some street punk like those bikers. He was a nice guy who I’d hoped would get together with my sister actually, as they started talking more after that day and he really seemed to be making a good impression on her.

A few days later, I remember he stopped by my place and was really worried. He asked where my sister was, but I didn’t know. He went to look for her and seemed to think that she might be at the clubhouse with those bikers. I was left alone in the house, as I was a lot back then, but the next thing I knew a bunch of these strange guys in suits barged in, and well, basically kidnapped me.

As it turned out, back in the park when I fell out of my wheelchair, one of the bikers stashed some stolen diamonds in one of my pillows. These guys in the suits were the gangster who were supposed to get the diamonds, but that old guy had figured it all out and took the pillow with him when he left me alone to track down my sister. Next thing I knew, that old guy was coming to rescue me in a giant hovercraft.

Wait a minute… none of that happened to me, that’s the story from Jackie Chan’s classic movie Rumble in the Bronx. Oh well, all’s well that end’s well.

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