I feel I should explain myself a bit. Short and semi-sweet.
Wait! There's more.
I was born and raised in the rural countryside of Halton county, Ontario. The youngest of three children with an older brother and sister, I enjoyed an adventurous youth. Summer vacation was the best time of year where I'd strike out in any direction over the farm fields to see what I could find. You make your own entertainment in the country like building tree forts, throwing apples at each other in Mr. Foster's pasture, or riding your bike over to a friend's house. I'd help load the hay wagon just to ride back on top to the barn - watch those branches! Then make hay forts in the mows. Every year mom would pack the car and we'd head up to camp for two weeks in Killbear Provincial Park at the end of July. Harold's Point campground was my favourite.
My first exposure to art and the environment was through my childhood friendship with Robert Bateman's son, John. I remember we'd take dead birds out of the basement freezer to look at - sample species his dad would refer to in his painting. The kids were told our nature walks were to look for native arrow heads. That was the bait to get us walking quietly through the woods, looking at birds through Mr. Bateman's binoculars. I never did find an arrow head, but I guess you could say I learned to appreciate just being in nature, looking and listening.
My parents separated when I was 17 years old and I moved with mom and the siblings to suburban Burlington. Can't say I liked suburbia or high school much. I read books in the library at lunch, or hung out in the cool music teacher's office for laughs.
I don't remember much about my four years at York University in Winters' College residence. I did study film making and philosophy - that I remember. For me, it doesn't get much better than living in a fine art residence with 250+ young women and men who like to have a good time. I met a lot of friends there who I'll always keep. I also did a stint on the Winters' College council as a student rep, so I'm not a complete political virgin. As college councillor, the most pressing issues involved making sure there was enough beer kegs for the all-you-can-drink dances, and that people didn't launch too many bottle rockets at passing cars.
After university, I moved off to the exotic land of Vancouver, BC. It was a beach bum lifestyle for a good long while and I enjoyed every minute of it. You could say I'm a sun worshipper. My first job of many was as a Shaolin kung-fu instructor. I'd practiced t'ai chi and karate before, and kung-fu was somewhat of a mix of those plus a whole lot more. I know one thing for sure, there's very little that anyone can do to me that the Shaolin masters haven't already done to me over and over with expert skill. That ended after a year when a visiting master laid down the law:
"You have a month to decide whether you will teach kung-fu at the the temple for the rest of your life or leave forever. If you tell me you will commit for life, then decide to leave,...there will be...trouble for you, Mr. Pocock".Meaning, I would suck food through a straw for a very long time. I decided to explore other career options.
That's when I began to learn carpentry, building and shipping custom industrial crates of pulp and paper machinery. I learned how to deal with pressure by managing the logistics of shipping multi-million dollar machines world-wide with cargo jets waiting to take off. It's all about details and not taking crap from anyone. There are no excuses, only results.
One morning, riding my chopper to work, I was t-boned at a main Vancouver intersection by an old man in a minivan. In slow motion the front grill hit me and suddenly, painlessly the lights went out on the world. I'll leave out the gory details, but say that I survived by a miracle and didn't lose my leg. Now I've got a metal pin below my knee holding everything together. There's something liberating about having your clothes cut off your body, covered in blood and a thousand strangers looking on. Life lessons.
Back to Parry Sound and Deerwood Forest where ma helped me to walk again - it took eight or nine months and I still have the occasional limp. I'm a cripple, but I try not to let that stop me. I'll tell you a story about Ma Pocock, a woman who at 60 years old (20 years ago) bought what I now call Deerwood Forest as a bush lot. They chainsawed and bulldozed a road in and she lived with her two cats in a trailer at the building site for three months. Cookies and lemonade delivered by my mom must have made it easier for the construction workers while she supervised the build.
So, the story is, my leg was healing, but I couldn't walk yet. I wanted to get into the woods to at least cut some deadwood for winter fuelwood. Mom hooked the cargo trailer up to the dangerous three-wheel ATV - which she hadn't driven before - and I sat in the back of the small trailer with the chainsaw, gas and oil. So, she takes off down the driveway toward the trail entrance. You know those 3 wheel ATVs are now banned because they're death machines, right? Ma starts working the throttle and drifting toward the left ditch 2 -3 feet deep and littered with sharp sapling stumps and granite rock. The ATV's back wheel caught and the last thing I saw was Ma's grey hair disappear down and forward into the ditch as the ATV flipped over and landed on top of her. Then the trailer slammed into it. She was dead for sure.
"Mom?", I wondered aloud.
"I'm fine", came a quiet reply from somewhere down there.
I jumped out of the wagon and managed to pull the ATV, wheels still spinning, off of her. Not a scratch, though bruised I'm sure. I got the 3-wheeler back on the driveway and the wagon attached.
"You okay", I asked.
"I'm fine", she said, though how could she be?
"Let's get back to the house", I said.
"No, let's go on and cut up some wood. I'm fine if you are", she insisted.
"Sure, I'm fine...", I guessed, but not really. How could I be? I thought she was dead two minutes ago. I wasn't gonna start moaning and groaning now, though. So, I got back in the wagon and we continued into the woods like nothing happened. I'm sure she was badly hurt, but she didn't mention it. That's Ma Pocock.
Eventually, I could walk with a cane, then mostly without a cane. I moved to Los Angeles to try my luck in Hollywood writing scripts. Since university I'd wanted to try LA, not wanting to live with the regret of wondering, "What if I tried?" and didn't. Now I know I didn't like it. Some things you've gotta learn the hard way. Right away I didn't like the place and never learned to like it. Canada was some far off, distant paradise. LA was a strange, hellish planetoid where everyone seemed desperate to get into showbiz and looked past you for someone who could help them advance their career.
Back in BC with my old job back, I decided to give the business world a try and got a Masters in Business Administration. I did my internship with a management consulting firm specializing in improving the operation of resource companies like mines, and pulp plants, and sawmills around the world. I decided living for two years beside some remote copper mine in South America wasn't for me.
I returned to Ontario and settled in Toronto so I could have a relationship with my nephew and niece while they were young enough to still be interested in Uncle Bill. I got another job at an elite Toronto management consulting firm, The Chartwell Group, which was really a think tank for municipal, provincial, and federal government on how to make the public sector more efficient, provide services more effectively. It was a great learning experience to absorb the thoughts of these geniuses, integrating the government into a whole, actually figuring out who they served and doing it better.
A long public sector strike hit Ontario and much of the consulting work stopped. I didn't like sitting on the bench. And I remember looking out the lunchroom's high rise window, across Adelaide street and seeing all the other office workers in their cubes, working away, eating lunch at their desk like I was about to do. "People aren't meant to live like this", I said to one of the partners, sipping my fourth coffee. The company was struggling so I recommended to give me a lay-off - last man in - and I got it.
For a couple months I back-packed around southern Europe then returned. I started working with the guy I grew up with across the country road building decks, fences, building new and renovating houses around Muskoka and the Greater Toronto Area. And I've done it ever since. I've lived in the white collar and blue collar worlds. I can work in both, but if I had to chose, I find working with others for a common goal - making something that lasts - is more satisfying for me. People working together, helping each other as a team is what I like. I find, if you can get with a good group of people, not worry about who gets to be hero or heroine, it's amazing what you can do. The simple life is the best life.
In 2007 an old buddy of mine from BC and I got the crazy idea to journey across Canada in a human-powered vehicle. It ended up we wanted to talk to grade school kids about what they can do in their everyday lives to reduce the impact of Climate Change. We designed, financed, built, and piloted the EcoRocket velomobile on the Kids Can 2007 expedition.
My partner, a marathoner and mountain-climber abandoned the expedition when we reached Toronto on our eastward journey to St. John's, Nfld. Exhausted and almost out of money, I decided to press on alone. I pitched tent along the TCH wherever I could and hoped for the best. You know, you can sleep on gravel if you have to. Thanks to the generous financial support from many friends, I made it to St. John's ahead of schedule. I slept that night on Signal Hill and watched the sunrise. Crashing in fire station beds for a few days, Easson's Transport gave me a lift back to Toronto. Expedition over. Check out the expedition Econauts blog if you're interested. I'm the guy called 'Major Dude'.
Now I live in Seguin Township. When not working on construction sites, I manage Deerwood Forest for my mom, cutting trails and planning a 20 year improvement cut of the forest for the health of the trees, and a flourishing environment for plant and wildlife. It's a really big garden I enjoy sustaining and improving. My HICKWILLY blog is where I write about my woods work these days.
I've been close to death many times and know a complete and utter peace is found at last. So, I say let's enjoy our lives, and help make our paradise on Earth. I know we're not always gonna get along, but at least I try.
