After watching Marky Wheels play the keyboard at the intersection of Dundas and Spadina in Chinatown, it's hard not to be overwhelmed by what he manages to create with his limbless body. But after sitting and talking with him, it soon becomes clear that even more remarkable is what he's accomplished with his limitless mind.
Wheels, 42, tackles life with an infectious optimism despite having the odds stacked against him since birth.
"I was born pretty premature about five months early, I literally fell out of my mom, I was only a few ounces, literally just a big head," he tells me in between songs.
"I was born a four-way amputee, above knee, above elbow. The unofficial account for that is I was a result of the 1960s government-testing project called the MK-Ultra, something you can look up and research. My mom was unfortunately an in-patient at the hospital at the time and that was part of her, 'treatment' getting among other things a whole cocktail of chemicals, including injections of liquid LSD."

Wheels was adopted at the age of four, and he credits his parents with instilling in him the belief that with the right attitude, anything is possible.
"I was adopted by a really dedicated, loving German family that always encouraged me, so when I was younger I always used to draw and paint a lot, I'd hold the pen or the brush between my arm and my cheek...I always had the gumption in me…through my upbringing with my parents, (that) nothing can stop you, be better than the best, behold the mighty turtle who makes progress only when he sticks his neck out! These are the things I grew up with. Don't tell me what you're gonna do, just do it!"
He clearly remembers a turning point in his young life, when he bravely exposed his condition to his classmates. It proved to be a liberating experience.
"I used to wear rubber legs...and I wore these stupid artificial arms that didn't really do much and I was just pissed off, it wasn't to serve any benefit or function for me, it was just cosmetic, for appearance, for everybody else to feel comfortable. So for Halloween in Grade 5 our teacher gave everybody a few minutes to get into our costumes, and in a classroom of 40 people there were only about five or so who knew what I truly looked like, and I took those five minutes and got OUT of my costume. From that day forward I never used prosthetics again...well I use my prosthetic hooks to pull on my pants, that's it. I do everything without them."
Wheels as a child
He went on to study art at OCAD, but his interests soon shifted from visual to auditory expression, and he began engaging in crude sessions on the streets banging on newspaper boxes.
"I started writing a lot of lyrics and a lot of poems, and initially I actually set up in front of a Toronto Star newspaper box because it had the best resonance and I used to beat the hell out of it with my drumstick."
"While I was doing that I was perfecting learning music at home. I bought myself an acoustic guitar tuner and I'd hum into it and sing into it and it would tell me what notes it was, and from that I started to learn (the keyboard) and realize what notes went together. I actually have no formal training in music. I don't know anything about music, I come up with something and I play it."
And so began a life of performing on the streets, where he's seen the best and worst sides of human nature. Wheels has made numerous loyal friends over the years and been graced with touching generosity, but he's also been routinely targeted by thieves who take advantage of his vulnerability.
"I get robbed all the time," he explains. "At least once a day someone will try to. “
"Years ago I was held up at gunpoint in Atlantic City, I sat out there for six hours, I'm not kidding you I did not make a penny in six hours and then this chap threw me $10,000, like you know the bundles they give you at the bank, he threw that in my bag and I didn't even have time to call my friend…and another guy came and put a gun against my head. That's when I discovered that a handgun has a spiral down the barrel, because I got to stare down it. And I said 'look buddy…ultimately it's your own fate and you're going to discuss what happens here with your maker.' He took it."
"All I can do is say a prayer for them and continually thank those who do the opposite, and give instead of take."



Aside from gunpoint robberies, Wheels, who is a father of three girls, admits that dealing with the stares of strangers is another reality that’s not always pleasant.
"There's the initial shock value, and they have to do the double take, sometimes me and my daughters have a bit of fun, we say, 'okay give them 5 seconds they're going to look again, this one is going to walk a little bit before they look again.' ”
"We get fooled by the physical illusion, the illusion that does not fill the void,” he adds. “We are a spiritual energy that is stuck in a bioelectrical-chemical unit, we are an ugly bag of mostly water, that's it, but what gets that running is the key. So I may not have come with power-steering, but in a way I did," he laughs, eying his wheelchair. "But my engine works great.”
“I've gone downhill skiing, I've jumped out of an airplane, I have three beautiful kids, I play keyboards, I've seen over 100 cities, 40 countries in this world so I can't really complain and when I'm drunk I don't have far to fall!” he laughs.



That doesn’t mean there aren’t a few things he wishes he could do.
“I've always wanted to flip someone the bird you know, give someone the finger, or pick my nose...to play a chord, to play a guitar, to dance, to play pool.”
“But the waste of energy of being frustrated is just that --- a waste of energy."
"The only thing that can stop you is you. And I made it a point a long time ago that when I get old and grey and wrinkled up and shriveled into nothingness, I'm going to leave this planet with memories, full of things I did, and not things I should have done.”
Marky Wheels has a great sense of what’s important, and a spiritual wisdom that gives his words great depth. He also has a great sense of humour.
“There's certain things I figured out, damn it, that I'm no good at,” he concludes with a chuckle. “Basketball I'm no good at! I suck at basketball, so I knew a long time ago not to dedicate a lot of energy to basketball."
You can send suggestions for future Local Character profiles to michael.talbot@citynews.rogers.com
More stories by Michael Talbot