“The tragic or the humorous is a matter of perspective.”

– Arnold Beisser, American author and Gestalt therapist

It was late or, depending upon your perspective, early – around 2 a.m. I was riding my motorbike down the silent, empty streets. Most of the houses were dark save for the occasional porch light with a swarm of moths and small insects around it. I felt a little guilty for riding my motorbike. In my mind, I could see my father rolling over in bed, sitting up and cursing.

“What kind of damn fool is out riding around at this hour?”

It was 1980 and I was living alone in Medicine Hat – far away from family and friends. I had chosen to live away in order to assert my independence, show that I could make it on...

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