I was in my third year at Carleton, and after being dumped by Liz, my addiction took hold like a tsunami. I continued to work at the LCBO and spent most days not in class but at Rooster’s pub at Carleton. I had more money than I knew what to do with. I packed in my hash empire and walked away with $60K after buying my first stock in Molson companies and making a 40% return. I turned my back on my Led Zeppelin dope-smoking friends and acquaintances and discovered the Rolling Stones.
I hung out at my broker's office at least once or twice a week and became addicted to that—the beautiful people. The offices of Burns Fry dripped of money. Everyone was exceptionally good-looking, well-spoken, fit, and beautifully dressed. What was not to like? I wanted in and discovered that all I needed to take and pass was a correspondence course to become a stockbroker. I took The Canadian Securities Course during the final semester at Carleton and passed.
As for Carleton, and becoming a psychologist? Had I stayed, I probably would not have graduated. To this day, I’m a course or two away from my degree. So—fuck Carleton, fuck becoming a psychologist, fuck my addiction. I just didn’t give a fuck about anything. This was going to be the Woody Buchman show.
As for Liz, I made such an ass at her bible study class she screamed at me all the way home—that was that. LCBO? Soon to quit. I would get so drunk at work they made me attend AA which looking back, was probably a good thing as some of that shit stuck in my head.
In my third year, I met and married you, a hottie blonde named Susan, who was from money, Rockcliffe Park, to be exact. She had a brother, Andy Pit, who was a billionaire and was inheriting what was to him a bit of pocket change—30 million. Andy wanted me to look after his money as I had made him serious coin on a stock pick of mine called Campeau.
He found me a job at Midland Walwyn, a subsidiary of Midland Capital. This was the summer of 1987 amid a raging bull market. I was a stockbroker sitting on a 30-million-dollar stock account—then the market crash—my life changed forever on October 19th, 1987.
They say that addicts have all kinds of things they're trying to block out. I disagree. I was born an addict, and I loved the feeling it gave me in my head.
Next blog, the beginning of Woody’s white-collar crime, Anna, sex and addiction.
