Raised by the Glow
If you Google my name, the first thing you’ll see is a whole bunch of karate stuff.
If you keep scrolling, you’ll find my Substack.
And if you dig deep enough, you’ll find a different version of me — back in university, when I tried my hand at theatre.
I grew up on a steady diet of television.
For working-class kids, TV was the schedule.
You came home from school and watched until someone got home and kicked you outside.
You played until it got dark, came back in, and watched more TV.
We didn’t have calendars.
We had Rocket Robin Hood, then Astro Boy, then Inspector Gadget.
Then you went to school.
I’d come home for lunch and my mom would make Chef Boyardee or Lipton soup with saltine crackers,
and I’d watch Adam West and Burt Ward before heading back to class.
On sick days, it was The Price Is Right.
There were stories.
Characters.
Mysteries.
Education.
TV had everything.
And I wanted to be inside it.
I wanted to feel what all the characters felt.
So I thought I’d try acting.
But acting never felt very serious.
So I played at it for a while.
I got cast in a few things, worked on them, and honestly —
it was some of the most fun I’ve ever had.
But when you’re from a working-class family,
dreams like that feel frivolous.
Unstable.
Irresponsible.
I was at a university known for math and engineering,
playing at becoming an actor.
My parents were supportive — truly —
but responsibility shows up fast when you’re closer to the bottom.
So I aimed for something that paid.
Something practical.
Something that got me through school.
And I built a life there.
I enjoyed the work.
I enjoyed the people.
I don’t regret it.
But sometimes, I still miss chasing that dream.
Back then, I thought what I wanted was to be rich or famous —
to not have to work as hard as my parents did.
Now I know that wasn’t it.
What I loved was the creativity.
Entertaining.
Putting on a show.
Making people feel something.
I don’t claim I was any good at acting.
But I know this:
doing it was the best time I ever had.



Somewhere .. you could also find the time you made the front page of the Toronto Sun, with your cousin.