the way most long stories begin.
This one is really no different and it still has not come to an end. I doubt it ever will, however one day it might be best.
I'm 26 now. Back then me and my droogs were in Grade 7, which would make us uh, 13 years old. The whole lot of us young pups, trying out cigarettes and stealin' bases on our way to the top of the public school food chain.
With only a few days remaining 'till summer vacation, Jordie Preston pulled out three piss warm bottles of brew from his back pack and we all celebrated and passed em' around after school. Not the best memory of a first taste, but it triggered something. Serious interest in how and why this foul juice somehow led to a level of fun we couldn't imagine.
It was during the first week of that summer, of course that we collectively organized a mass drinking party to be held at the most epic location we knew of. A place that was big and open and felt far enough away from anyone that could bring the hammer down on our experiment. In Byron, at that time, there was only one place; the London Ski club's HILL 2000. After all the lame projects we had to complete in Grade 7, we finally had one we were proud to put our names on. It had three phases:
1) Steal booze from parents without getting caught.
2) Make it to Hill 2000 without any questions asked.
3) Drink without regard.
It seemed like the entire grade showed up. Nobody in their right mind wanted to miss this historical event, and surely it was to those that were there.
There isn't much to go into detail about. We drank. We felt our blood temperature rise and our voices become louder as the sun began to sink lower beyond our vantage point. We acted out merely every recollection of the cliched drunken scenes that we'd absorbed from T.V. and movies. And why the hell not? Every character I ever wanted to be like was a fun lovin' substance abuser. But there didn't seem to be anything "abusive" about this.
There is no real discovery to be made with alcohol ( I was drunk when I came up with that title). For the grand majority of North Americans, drinking is just another step on the path of growing up. I believe we can learn a lot from inebriation. Alongside my mates, my introduction was both lucky and memorable. I got loose. Everyone had brought something different, and I tried it all. Wine, beer, the hard stuff, I drank it down. The party in my belly was raving n' drooling, but it met no comparison to what was happening on the highest plateau of Hill 2000.
The fun, attractive girls were experiencing a new kind of freedom and sharing it with everyone by throwing off their shirts and running around giggling, almost floating, while others manifested into instant drama queens, freaking out about things as insignificant as chicken feed. The boys shouted Chris Farley quotes out at the view of the suburban sprawl, each line more louder than the next, until we were all on the ground, laughing and sweating and encouraging the girls in their topless antics.
I felt like I was everywhere at once, with eyes in the back of my head and enough pure energy to light a sports field. We stayed long, and drank and loafed all over the monumental hill grounds until there was not a drop of alcohol left. It was our first big -time bonding experience as a group of small town kids who left the night feeling and knowing that there was a whole lot more in life to discover. There always will be.
