It was summer 1975 or 76. I was around 11 or 12 and going into the 7th grade My mother had just married my stepfather, Chester Spring (my buddies in the neighborhood called him Chester the Molester cause he beat my ass pretty near every day till i was about 15-deservedly so btw)- Anyway, it was one of, if not the first, times he and I had been together and we all went fishing. Well, i dont recall exactly but something set me off and I was having one of my world-famous spoiled temper tantrums. Well, my dad (as I called him before too long- he adopted me when i was about 15) ripped his belt off and commenced to tearing my ass up telling me he's not going to have that kind of shit going on any more. It was a textbook ass-whoopin' and probably monumental in my life cause thats one of the first recollections I have of trying to control my temper. It has been pretty much a life-long battle of mine and to this day, I still struggle to control it. I wish i could say that I smarted up and that was the last of the behavior modification but those that know me know that I have a small almost unrecognizable stubborn streak in me that kept me hoppin on the end of that belt many many times over the next several years. He was extremely important in my developmental years and I cringe when I think of how I would have ended up without his intervention. But more on him down the line.