56 and counting!

Having a solid self-concept is paramount to a happy life ... ya gotta feel comfortable in your own skin! If that's priority numero uno, then having a few true friends would be a very close second, IMHO.

My oldest friend on this planet is Michael Tough ESQ. If you haven't guessed it already, he's the one with the 70's FRO! The others are my cousin Warren, in the vest, and my brother Mike, when he was still cute. Of course the Adonis on the left is yours truly.

I was introduced to Mike waaaaaay back in 1967 when my parents purchased a semidetached on Gaylong Court in The Big Smoke, a move prompted by my dad finishing his Med School experience at Queen's in Kingston. The house that would be in prime view if you looked out from our living room window was owned by Jim and Betty Ann Tough with their children Karen (age 8) and Michael (age 6), and since Mike was of similar age, we naturally gravitated to joint adventures on our dead end playground, along with a host of other similarly aged children who lived on the court.

We got up to a bunch of shenanigans during the 4 years of our neighbouring, and despite my then relatively young age, I can still conjure up some dusty memories that prompt a wide smile ... like 'Kick the Can'! We played that a ton!

Like all good things, that came to an end when my parents chose to move north to the then small city of Barrie (pop ~16000) in 1971, where my dad would begin to establish his soon-to-be famous career as the only Orthopedic surgeon in the area for a good many years, affectionately becoming 'Doc' to the thousands who were recipients of his boundless compassion. While I was excited to move into a new set of surroundings, complete with a whole horde of new similarly aged companions to choose from, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I missed my adventures with Mike.

It would have been easy for the story to end there, but it most assuredly did not!

Fortunately, my parents and his parents had forged a tight bond, especially since their oldest Karen was a tragic victim of a traffic accident, and were compelled to continue the relationship, an olive branch extended to Jim + BA to visit regularly. As you can imagine, the assistance my parents so willingly offered as Jim + BA as they navigated their grief was priceless. Since our new place on Varden Cresent in Barrie's east end featured a pool, it provided long afternoons of delightfully cool frolic as stories and beverages were shared of life's daily escapades spent in different cities. The Tough's would expand their family by adopting a cherubic-faced little bundle of joy Jennifer, adding a wee bit of estrogen to our testosterone drenched gaggle of ganders.

When the decision was made to move the Porter clan across town to Sunnidale Road in Barrie's west end, complete with pool and property bordering on the wilds of Sunnidale Park, the continuing visits created a whole host of new memories, not the least of which was the beginning of a 50+ year Civic Holiday tradition for our families. You see, my father felt that he wasn't busy enough ... he says with dripping sarcasm ... with his day job of stamping out disease and relieving suffering, so he joined the Barrie chapter of Rotary and quickly got dug in like a tick! At that point in history, one of the main fund-raising efforts was the annual Rotary Chicken BBQ, held during those years at St Vincent Park on the north shore waterfront of Kempenfelt Bay. While XY's manned the temporarily-built cinder block fire pits all day (photo at right), arriving home to pollute the pool with our sooty, sweaty, peanut-oil infused selves, the XX's stuffed hundreds of little cups with coleslaw to be included in the dinners. 

Truly teamwork at its finest! There were so many of us that my dad's pit was manned solely by our group! A thousand apologies for the crap resolution of the photo, but from L to R, that's my brother Rob, Doc, Mike's dad Jim, and the aforementioned Adonis.

Since we haven't yet figured out how to stop or slow the clock's eternal progress, the families grew by generations as grandparents greyed, the kids found partners, weddings and grandkids ensued, and the Rotary Club discovered that beer tents at the Annual Kempenfest Art Festival weekend were more lucrative, retiring the Chicken BBQ, but not our yearly familial rekindling. For those that recall our childhood home on Sunnidale, you're already aware that it featured a 12 car driveway ... not an exaggeration ... and the ensuing car lot appearance as 10 families invaded my parent's home for the day signalling to the neighbourhood that 'Doc' and the 'Dragon' were entertaining again. 

This photo is Mike's family at his daughter Rachel's wedding to Ian Brown. His oldest Sara is on the far left and youngest Rebecca is on the far right. His wife Trish is between Sara and Ian.

Eventually the clan outlived the homestead, my father passed, our kids became adults, and my mom sold the childhood homestead to take on condo life on Barrie's waterfront. Without skipping a beat, the Toughs declared that the tradition would not go the way of the Dodo, and Mike generously volunteered to host in the lovely hamlet of Belle Ewart. By now there were great grandkids joining the festivities, and Club Tough was every bit the theme park that Club Porter had been. What started with the chance meeting of 2 couples in 1967, the family trees have intertwined their roots, swelling the numbers, forging friendships stronger than the heaviest chains.

We're still having the 2023 version of our Civic Holiday meet 'n greet this August, of that there's no doubt!

Mike and I recently decided that we needed a boy's afternoon so a little golfing was in order, and since my amazing children Maddi+Chris and Keaton+Jessica had gifted me some free rounds at Silver Brooke in Lisle, we enjoyed an amazing ... sights and weather, not golf prowess unfortunately ... afternoon sharing stories from the past 12 months. Fortunately, our beautiful brides had loads of catching up to do too, so Joyce and Trish enjoyed the companionship of a Wasaga Beach stroll, far exceeding the 70 words a minute speed limit. The day was capped by a delightful meal, more stories, a few wobblies, leaving us with huge grins, sparkling eyes, and new memories.

Surround yourself with good people and life will be all you can handle!

Blessed, folks, that's the state of my life right now!