Item Number 20: Bike Helmet, Black

Time in possession: Around 9 months

Description: Black Giro bike helmet, with visor. Minor wear and tear including some small scratches and a small dent.

Cost: Something around 45$, bought at Lifesport.

Story: Last summer I decided to start riding my bike around town, my car being long since passed away and the bus service being quite insufferable. My ex-girlfriend left me her old bike and I was able to find my old bike helmet, and soon I was riding around town in what my friend Kevin lovingly referred to as the "death-mobile". The bike was a rusty piece of crap and my helmet pretty dumb looking, but it was a cheap way to get around town and I was happy.

Eventually the death-mobile got stolen, and I was left at an impasse: What should I do now? I had a couple of crappy bikes lying around that made my old ride look awesome, but I wasn't ready to put myself through that kind of torture. Should I then maybe looking into just getting a Wal-Mart special? Finally, Kevin convinced me that the way to go would be to buy a really good bike. Sure, it would cost a lot, but the difference in the riding experience would be more then worth it. So, off I went to the local sports store and found a nice bike. Riding it around convinced me of its worth and soon I was lining up to get a 500$ bike, which became my grad gift, as opposed to the digital or video camera my parents and grandma were planning on getting me.

And so, with my shiny new bike, I decided to also spring for a better helmet, as my old number was lacking in many ways. The difference here was also amazing. Much more comfort and definitely better aesthetically. Now I was flying around the city in style, making great time and getting super fit.

And then my new bike got stolen.

The opening night of my one man show at the Fringe festival was a huge success: The crowds were good, my friends enjoyed it and I was on top of the world. After a trip to the beer tent, it was suggested we all head down to a friends house to continue the party. We did, and for about another hour I was feeling as great as I possibly could. Then one of the party goers entered the house asking me where I had put my bike. My bike had been next to theirs: But it was no longer. Shit shit shit.

I went outside and saw it for myself: Where my bike had formerly been is now nothing... except for my helmet, which had been left behind (Strangely enough, my lock had not also been left). And so, it remained the only part of my grad gift left. Fortunately, we were able to replace the bike as it had been insured, and so the Brent-Mobile Mk II lives... but that's a story for another day.

Item Number 11: Shoes (White), Athletic

Time in possession: Almost 3 years now

Cost: A gift from my sister's ex-boyfriend, so free. They were brand spanking new at the time though, so probably in the area of 100$.

Description: White and Red Adidas running shoes. Have sustained several stage combat classes worth of use, as well as some time outdoors. The back of the heels are also pretty worn, since I don't like to untie my shoes. This is why I can't have nice things.

Story: For a while my sister Regan (the middle one) dated a guy named Marcel, who happened to be a member of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, our local CFL team. After one season, his contract was not renewed and so he had to head back to his home in the States. He was a pretty cool guy, and before he left he gave a bunch of his stuff to the family since he didn't want to lug it back home with him: I got a pair of shoes, since they fit well enough.

I've got a thing about keeping shoes, especially since I've been replacing them before they are totally worn away. At the moment I've probably got about 7 pairs, which is actually really excessive now that I write it down and actually think about it. I mean, sure, keeping one pair around for doing messy stuff like painting or whatever is fine, but a pile of them? Ridiculous!

I should actually really get rid of these guys. I've since discovered that my actual shoe size is about one and a half smaller then what I had thought it was and keeping them around is not really all that useful. Will I get rid of them? Lord knows.

That being said, I'm starting to think that this project is going to culminate in a big trip to the Salvation Army drop off box...

Item Number 10: Basketball, Semi-Inflated

Time in possession: At least 10 years, although probably more. 15 maybe? Who knows.

Description: Orange rubber(?) basketball, only vaguely inflated and has been that way for years. Practically as good as new!

Cost: The cost of the cheapest basketball at least a decade ago.

Story: My father was a jock when he was younger, so it comes as little surprise that when I was old enough to enter into the world of sports he was only happy to see that I have the equipment and support to go on and be a super sporty sport guy. Or something. Only a couple of hitches in that plan: I didn't really like sports all that much- I didn't hate them, but I certainly didn't like them as much as reading or playing video games or about a hundred other things. Also, I kinda sucked. So really, what kind of incentive did I have?

That being said, I would flit around from time to time and give various sports a try. This basketball is a relic of the time that I thought I might want to try playing on my school team in grade school. My dad bought it for me, and I think I must have played like 3 or 4 games with it before tossing it in my closet and never touching it again. I actually did end up playing on the team in grade 6. It was pretty brutal, getting up for our early practices before school, and then going on to lose most of our games. And so basketball was too abandoned.

I've held onto the ball all these years with the assumption that I might need it at some point, but as it has gone on so long without even the possibility of being brought out, it's uselessness to me is really starting to be felt. I'll probably get rid of it the next chance I have.

Unless anyone wants to play basketball?

Item Number 8: Sword, Rapier

Time in possession: In the neighborhood of 3 years

Description: A steel practice rapier, for use in stage combat and (I assume) fencing. Wooden grip with leather inserts (added later to tighten the grip). Currently in need of a little time with some WD40.

Cost: Something to the tune of 200$, although the exact number is lost to me. Ordered online from an armory in Alberta.

Story: Before I begin, do you know how hard it is to take a decent picture of a sword? They're so freaking long. Anyway....

In my theatre program at the University of Winnipeg, there is plenty of room for extra courses outside of the typical acting classes. Personally, I managed to fit in some play writing, a couple of musical theatre workshops, a makeup course and, my favorite, several stage combat classes. Our prof is named Rick Skene, and he's one of the top fight choreographers and stunt people in Canada, and on top of all that a really fun guy, so I threw myself into each class with reckless abandon.

After completing the unarmed stage combat class, I was delighted to find out that a sword fighting class would be offered the next year. We had done a little bit of weapon fighting in the unarmed class, but the sword fighting class promised to add new dimensions to our fight making skills, not only as we'd be learning new weapon skills (Rapier, Rapier and Dagger, Quarterstaff) but also because the class would be twice as long. Whoo!

I enjoyed the class so much that I decided that it would be worth getting a sword of my own. A few inquiries with Rick and my class mate Jacquie and I found a site based out of Alberta that was just getting into the sword making business and was cutting a deal for it's second run of swords. I was in, and greatly enjoyed having my own sword, especially since it meant that I would not have to risk getting stuck with one of the older, much heavier and clumsier swords that Rick had for the class.

Sadly, it hasn't seen too much use over the past little while. Besides being used in a Fringe play over the summer it has remained in my room, ready to be put to use should I be attacked by zombies. And then it would old be used until I could get my much-more-reliable-for-hitting-zombies-in-the-head boken. While there have been talks as well for organizing a fight club, for stage fighting of the armed or unarmed variety, nothing has come of that either. We're lame.