Monthly Archives: January 2009

Hope for the dark times

Written on January 28, 2009 by Rhett Soveran in Audio & Video

We have—apparently—entered into some pretty dark times. I mean, we all generally (hopefully) have what we need and more to survive. But times are tough. For instance, we have a government without a plan to spend a lot of money. How do you develop a plan for something you are ideologically opposed to? And do it in less than two months? For once, couldn’t somebody—even if I don’t agree—just stand up for what they believe in instead of trying to save their own necks?

Well, in September (2008), which was a dark time for me because I had been laid off, I was doing some temp work downtown. Temp work also makes for a dark time. But I was reminded of a small glimmer of hope. There are people who are keeping it real.

On 7th Ave and 8th St at the Dirty Macs or Crack Macs (as it’s known in Calgary) there was a homeless man, who was filthy and stoned (or mentally ill or both), sat with a battery powered boombox on his lap rocking out to the Beastie Boys. Sometimes, when there’s nothing else in this world, you just gotta fight, for your right, to party.

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The Standard Questions

Written on January 27, 2009 by Rhett Soveran in Featured

For every age there are a set of standard questions that you are asked. When you are little, because adults (having given up their child-like spirit) don’t know how to relate to you, they ask—did you have fun? And that, perhaps, is a fair question. You say yes and maybe mix in a cute smile or tell the story about how you visited your grandmas farm and fed the cows.

Once you’re in high school—to avoid the real questions like how depressed are you really? and how misunderstood do you feel?—they ask what are you going to do after high school? And you don’t know anything. A couple over-achievers say that they want to take chemistry or physics, but they are assholes (for making me look bad) and a lot of them won’t make it through their first term.

Once you’re in university or working, everyone wants to know what you are going to do with that? And while I have and continue to ask that question, I try to do it in such a way that doesn’t make it seem like I am asking so that I can compare our lives and feel superior. Yes, I have an English degree. What are you going to do with that… teach? You know how many times I have heard that response. I have even got that response from people doing an BEd. They know I’d have to do a BEd to teach, but they still ask. If only I could go back and punch those people right in the face. The questions just get more annoying.

So you find yourself in a relationship and—of course—when are you getting married? LIKE I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH PRESSURE ALREADY. And I just want to say I’m just here for the ice cream. Leave me alone. But if you date someone for ice cream it makes you look bad. So you say Oh, you know, some day, maybe.

So you get married. Hopefully to the right woman or man. Then we get to babies.

We ask and ask and ask all these questions to reinforce the myths we (want to) believe in. It’s good to work. Good to go to school. Good to be monogamous. Good to have babies. So when are you having babies?

And this is where I am at. If people misunderstanding an English degree makes me want to punch you in the face then I think we can agree we won’t examine my physical reaction to this question. Usually, the people who ask, are already parents. Or they are your parents. And you don’t want to offend them and say—I don’t want kids. I am happy for you and your baby having—and I agree they are cute—but I don’t want them. Not now, at least. It’s an ongoing discussion

But let’s say, you answer the question honestly. No, I don’t want children. Not babies at least. Babies scare the shit out of me. Could I just adopt a normal 12 year old? They say—oooh you’d be a great father. If there is one thing you can be sure of about it’s that I don’t lack confidence. I have spent more time with children than most people my age. There are just a lot of questions I need answers to like—do I really want to shape another human being to be like me? Does the world need more people? Would my hypothetical child be good and normal or get mixed up with gangs? How pedestrian will my life become? When will babies stop scaring the shit out of me?

Then you either have babies and then people start recycling the same questions you’ve been asked all your life except now you have to answer it for your child. What’s little Rhys (that’s my hypothetical son’s name) doing these days? Oh, sniffing glue and robbing convenience stores. Plus he hit his mother again so we kicked him out of the house. Oh, I think I left a peach cobbler in the oven, I better go.

And if you don’t have children. Well I don’t know what they would ask, maybe… When are you going to die? But frankly, I think that’d be the most honest question yet.

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This ones for Dougy

Written on January 15, 2009 by Rhett Soveran in Featured

Rhett & Doug Soveran

There’s always something going on. There’s never not anything (I am a writer). Don’t you just wish, for once, that nothing was going on. Nothing to worry about. For the last couple of months, I certainly have.

As you likely know, I have had my share of ups and downs over the last couple of years in regards to employment. If I didn’t hate my job, I was getting laid off. So when I accepted the position at NEOVIA (formerly known as NETELLER) and found that it was even better than I had imagined, I felt relieved that I could finally just enjoy life.

One of the fringe benefits of marriage is that—hopefully—you don’t need to worry about girls anymore. Well, you need to worry about one. But there’s no plural. No more dating, no more does she, doesn’t she nonsense. Similarly, when I found a great, new job I thought FINALLY! I don’t have to think about all the work that goes into whoring yourself corporately.

So there I was—on a seasonably warm November day, sitting on the boggy crapper, enjoying a good poop and breathing through my mouth relaxing in pure contentment—when I get a phone call from Dad. Just a heads up, if you didn’t think we were already, we’re going to get intimate. It turns out that mole (or whatever) that was removed from his arm a couple months ago was cancerous. Skin cancer. I handled the news like any good Soveran—strong and silent—and asked all the need to know questions I could think of. Generally, you might regard skin cancer as the most treatable of cancers, because you see it right away, but Dad’s was serious. On a scale between one and five (five being the lowest priority) Dad was a two. Not good. Not great. Which meant that he would be going in for more surgery and more tests before Christmas. And having some idea of the status of Canadian healthcare that is really saying something.

Well, that first night I was strong. I don’t mind telling you that the second day I had a big disgusting cry. Like total breakdown. No control over anything. I just flopped on Leah’s lap and let fluids flow. Boogers, drool and tears. A big salty mess. After I got that out, I decided to only worry about what I could possibly worry about. I couldn’t worry about something I had no control over and for the most part that suceeded.

Well, almost true to their word, the doctors gave us good news on the 27th. After reviewing the CT scans, they were 95% sure that the cancer had not spread to the lymph nodes. Generally, once cancer gets into the lymph nodes… well it’s not good. So that was reassuring. Then, I believe on January 1 (always one to start the New Year with a bang?) Dad went in for surgery. They removed more flesh from his arm and also biopsied (I think is the word) a lymph node to be sure it hadn’t spread.

I am happy to spread the good news that Dad is cancer free. It did not spread. And Dad is on the mend from his surgeries, which is a good thing because I have a pile of baseboards here that aren’t going to put themselves on the wall.

I am going back to enjoying life, but—if I do say so myself—a little stronger, wiser and more grey hair. Like I needed any extra help Dad. But I am glad we’ll be keeping you around. I am not sure how long I could actually be strong for.

P.S. Word to the wise, don’t call Dad, Dougy. He hates it.
P.P.S. Thanks Dad for letting me share this, but just so we’re clear—it’s my story now.

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Where are you going?

Written on January 14, 2009 by Rhett Soveran in Featured

Well, lately, I’m going nowhere. I just realized it the other day. Somehow, without really thinking, I settled into a nice modernist frame of thought. I am talking about science. I started believing in progress. I started to think we knew it all. Nothing left to discover. Stick a pin in me, leave me on display, the cockroach of humanity—the arrogant one.

I was listening to the CBC and they were interviewing a researcher. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but he just completed a study that showed that good physical health leads to a longer life. There were a few specifics that made this research unique—I think it had to do with mental health—but it was the first study of it’s kind. The findings seemed incredibly obvious, but apparently no one else had done it before and that’s when I realized I had gotten lazy. Turns out, I don’t know everything. There is still a lot to explore.

You know the problem with me is that science ties me down too much. I can’t imagine anything. I get all obsessed with fact and date/time and where can your mind go when you are tied to the earth? So, I just wanted you all to know that I am renouncing this laziness. Another 2009 resolution! Time to dream a little more.

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Alright, I’m here

Written on January 13, 2009 by Rhett Soveran in Featured

Yeh, yeh 2009, hold your horses. I am back. I have arrived. Fashionably, or maybe not, late. 13 days into 2009 feels pretty good so far. For the first time in my life I was excited to go back to work. If that’s not a way to measure job satisfaction, I don’t know what is. And it’s not that my holidays were awful. They were great—except for when Curtis poisoned me with some mead, but that’s a story for another day when I feel like completely embarrassing myself.

Leif and Ian already put their 2009 goals that we wrote out together on New Years Eve. But I lost my list. Or it might be in my jacket. But frankly, I don’t want to share my goals for 2009 with the likes of my blog readers. Bunch of scandalous gossipers. The whole lot of you. But I will share a few of my goals for this blog.

  1. Find and keep to a steady posting rhythm.
  2. Become internet famous so that I can finally love myself the way you all love me already.
  3. Increase the readership of this blog, organically.
  4. More video posts.
  5. Start a podcast. This is the biggest one. I find the medium of radio to be highly intriguing and I think there is a lot of room to maneuver and try a lot of different things. Plus, I can work with others. It’s not a completely solo adventure. Interested? Let me know.

According to Leif’s cousin Chris (any time I write “Chris” I always write “Christ” how weird is that?), you are 80% more likely to achieve your goals when you share them. So consider this me sharing. And if it comes to 2010 and I haven’t completed these goals I will personally blame you all for not holding me accountable. This isn’t a test of my personal strength, creativity and will. This is a test of your friendship. Time to step up to the plate.

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