The Way It Was
Living vicariously through one of the most glamourized fictional characters of all time
Casino Royale was the first book I ever read, from front to back, all in one sitting.
I read a lot as a kid. Everything in sight. I wasn’t overly picky, as there just had to be words on a page. When we were younger, my parents drove my older sister, my younger brother, and me to the library, so we had a pretty good selection of books to choose from.
I read comic books, such as Batman, Superman and Archie, and actually bought used copies at rummage sales. I read the cereal boxes as I ate my corn flakes. There was always a contest or a mail-in offer on the package. We would cut the tops o of the cereal boxes for proof of purchase and my mother would tape four quarters on a piece of paper. We then dropped the envelope into a mailbox and would receive a cheap game or toy for us three kids to fight over a few weeks later. It was never as big in real life as it looked on the package. Times have changed now, however, and the only form of text on today’s cereal boxes are the ingredients, and the only one I pay attention to is the fibre.
For roughly three years of my life, from 11 to 14 years old, I would read the newspaper as I trudged from door-to-door on my paper route. I remember dodging hydro poles and fire hydrants without looking where I was going, keeping up on politics, news and sports. I read pretty much everything but my school textbooks. Bedtime was for pleasure reading. I went through a James Bond phase. They were pretty easy reads (about 200 pages) and much better than the movies, which have always been a letdown for me. But I had never read a book completely through in one night before.
It was band practice night at the Salvation Army, during the winter of 1965, and they were located next door to my parents’ house. They would go on for hours and break up at around 10 o’clock. Like living next to a set of railway tracks, or an airport, I got used to it, and I remember that night vividly. They were on their third run through of a rousing rendition of “Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus” and getting lost in a delicious spy thriller was a great way to shut out the booming bass drum from the Sally Ann.
I hunkered down in my homemade sheets. My mom had sewn together cotton sugar sacks for