Let’s face it, I am a nobody. Unlike Margaret Trudeau, I didn’t frolic with the Rolling Stones, and my wife was not prime minister of Canada. In 1968, the only rolling thing in my life was an old 57 Chevy with skin cancer, and I was a fired teacher. Believe me, no Gauvreau mania in my social life—then, or now, for that matter.
Having cleared the air on my social coordinates, let me explain what I was. Married with two children, fired from my teaching job in May, the future was not very bright for me. We will have the chance during the chapters to come to familiarize ourselves with the eventful adventures that have marked my life.
Not having the charisma of a Mr. or a Mrs. Trudeau, I could not expect that somebody would bother reading my autobiography. On the other hand, like Mrs. Trudeau, I have a condition that is worth talking about: bipolar disorder. It’s under that angle that I am writing this book.