DESIGNATED DRIVER
I believe the year was 1967, our Canadian Centennial year. It seemed that everyone was going to Montreal, to Expo, to celebrate Canada’s 100th birthday. My friend Doug Smith went and suffered an experience that, for him, was to become rather typical. These were the days of the F.L.Q. (Federation Liberation de Quebec) who were on a bombing rampage. They had killed a few people and so when there was a bomb scare the train that Doug was riding to Expo had to stop, everyone had to get off, and the train searched. While riding in the back of a bus in Montreal a car that was apparently being chased by police rammed into the back, split the bus open, and Doug awoke on the sidewalk. Apparently he had been ejected in the ensuing collision. In years later he would be mugged in his Miami hotel lobby, suffer Montezuma’s Revenge in Mexico City (which basically commanded his entire vacation time there) and was a victim of hit & run in Hawaii.
I, on the other hand, spent my summer at Y.M.C.A. Camp Pine Crest. Head office was Toronto’s College Street h.q., home of the slogan “life begins at 40 College” which later was shortened to “life begins at 40.”
During pre-camp – the time frame from the end of university exams in May until the beginning of camp in July (or the end of June as the case may be) a few of us were employed by the “Y” to help prepare camp for the ensuing season.
I had an old 1960s slant six Chrysler product that featured a push button gearshift. I never hit the wrong button nor had anyone do the same to me while driving although such stories were “out there.” We used to go to the Bala Bay during the evenings for recreation and beer. I liked to play shuffleboard but didn’t really care to drink. Wimpy, THE big road builder was working on the highway at the time and I befriended Leo who proved to be their lead Euclid driver. He even offered to let me drive one of those massive units but I had to admit that I didn’t know how to drive a standard. (My wife eventually taught me.)
Leo could slide a “hangar” whenever he wanted. For the uninformed a hangar was THE shot in Shuffleboard. Well we played a lot and I learned a lot but was, at best, proved a mediocre player. On the weekends the rich Muskoka cottage kids would come to the Bay to drink and play also.
As in The Hustler, one thing led to another and before long Leo and I were pitted in competition against the “rich kids.” I was the straight guy. In other words, I played my best and Leo did the rest. And so we would let “Them” win the first game and they would like a rematch- “double or nothing.” Well, Leo would just manage a “lucky” hangar to win the game and naturally there had to be a follow-up match. And so the evening would pass, Leo made some extra cash (which he didn’t really need but it was the principal of the thing) and the opposition left none the wiser. I don’t remember receiving any of the prize money. In the winter Wimpy would send Leo to Australia to work.
By this time we had to head back to camp and since I had the car I would drive. It also made sense since I hadn’t been drinking. Well before its time, I had become the designated driver.
Since there were too many for one trip I would drop a load off at base camp and return for the others and on this one night in particular they looked the worse for wear when I finally found them.
As it turned out their brief interlude was more than exciting. Remember that this happened very late at night.
“First a car came speeding by soon to be followed by another,” related one of the more lucid guys. “Next thing you know that first car is zooming past in the opposite direction. Not long after that the very same second car appears like it’s chasing the first. But then it slams on the brakes, a guy jumps out, looks at us, and pulls a gun from a holster in his coat. At that point we jumped into the bush.”
Satisfied, apparently, that my friends were not his quarry the guy jumped back into his car and it raced off. You might say they were glad to see me.