Back in my teen years, working out daily at Toronto's Balmy Beach Canoe Club to become a flatwater canoe racer in flimsy "peanut shells," I was encouraged by a gentleman from a much earlier era. Overweight yet totally relaxed, with a red nose like Hollywood comedian Wallace Beery, Cec (pronounced "Cece") Webster warned me that in later years I'd pay the price with a body permanently twisted by the contortions of a totally unnatural pose. He was right. Today I can reach one foot but not the other. The above photo is of an Olympics medal-winning BBCC pair from my era. Look closely and you'll see what I mean by "twisted contour."

Cec Webster owned and loved a 1930s Reo sedan. As a marque the name was a mystery but, beginning to appreciate automotive design, I was delighted when Cec took me along as a passenger and demonstrated the Reo's "automatic transmission." It was only automatic by name, for the system, first developed in the UK, required the driver to select a gear in advance by means of a small lever, then hit the clutch pedal when the up-or-down shift was needed. Shifts were smoother than in manual systems, happening almost simultaneously, hence the "automatic" claim. Thanks to Cec Webster I got to enjoy riding in a Reo, and also thanks to Cec, I became a winning canoe racer. As my "ex" often reminded me, "that and 25-cents won't get you a cup of coffee."