Large Richard

The bartender gave me his most sorrowful look as I limped to the bar.

He already knew what I wanted but went through the motions, perhaps out of pity, to ask anyway.

“What’ll it be?”

“Two beers.”

“That’s one for you and one for your friend over there?”

“Yeah.”

My hands wrapped tightly around the brews and I trudged back to my booth. I tried to prolong the trip back to him as much as I could stretch it. I wish I could just walk out the door and go home.

“Got the suds?”

“Yeah.”

“Aw, yeah!”

Nearly three-quarters of Richard’s beer was gone in one greedy slurp.

“You’re welcome.”

“About time, man. I was dying over here.”

“How much longer do we have to stick around here for?”

“Until I feel like leaving. That gon’ be a problem?”

I stared at Richard. I stared right through his fat face and into his shriveled soul.

“No.”

“Good,” Richard laughed. “Try to lighten up, would you? You asked me to hang with you, not the other way around. You used to literally drag me here.”

Richard slurped the last of his beer and gave me a “friendly” slap on the back that knocked the wind out of me. He was a large man and becoming less aware of his strength as he continued to feed beers into gullet at my expense. God, I hate this dude.

“Hey, Rich. I think that I’m gonna go hit the dancefloor, see if we can maybe find some women to hang out with tonight for once.”

“You think you’re gonna find a skirt, do you? By all means, then, Casablanca.”

I opened my mouth to correct him but decided against it. What would be the point? I sauntered towards the dancefloor and boldly hung out on the outside of the crowded throng.

As I awkwardly picked the label off of my beer bottle and did my best to stay out of Richard’s sight I could have sworn that I had heard someone speaking to me.

“Hello? I’m speaking to you!”

I recoiled in both the amazement that someone was talking to me at a bar and that someone was the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen.

“Y-yeah?” I sputtered.

“Is that your friend over there? The big guy?”

Of course.

“I know him. Why?”

The instant that my sentence was over my face met a lukewarm and sticky assault. I could taste the lime and cranberry as her cosmopolitan dripped down my face and onto my shirt.

“If you or that pig ever comes near one of my friends again we are pressing charges. Last chance, perverts!”

She stormed off and I was left standing with a drink on my face, no money in my wallet, and alone in a room full of strangers. The only thing that I had was the lesson that I had learned: finding women at the bar scene does not work better if you have a Big Dick.

A Bright Man.

I don’t follow the newest news.
I don’t know how to say no.
I may not be a bright man,
but I do have some light, man.

How can I be well-read
without and good-reads?
How can I be a leader
and not tell another where to be led?

Is that a revelation?
The word reveals nothing, much ado.
Is that a revolution?
The world doesn’t revolve around you.
Is that evolution?
Stagnation loves having nothing to do.

Change takes time
But we take no time to change.

 

Clearing the Plains: Disease, Politics, and the Loss of Indigenous Life – A Book Review

“Clearing the Plains: Disease, Politics, and the Loss of Indigenous Life”
by James Daschuk
Published by University of Regina Press
Reviewed by Ben Charles
C$27.95 ISBN: 978088776227

Clearing the Plains: Disease, Politics, and the Loss of Indigenous Life, written by James Daschuk and published by University of Regina Press can be best described as a heart wrenching but enlightening review of the systematic destruction of Indigenous peoples and culture in the prairies via the purposeful introduction of disease, starvation, and health disparities by both the Canadian government and private companies. This 2019 New Edition and winner of the Aboriginal History Prize, Cleo Prize, Governor General’s History and ironically the Sir John A. McDonald Prize, was originally published in 2013 and since then has obviously been praised by critics and readers alike. In fact, this reviewer truly believes that every Saskatchewanian should have a copy of this book on their shelves.

James Daschuk, a PhD in history and a current associate professor with the Faculty of Kinesiology and Health Studies at the University of Regina showcases his unpresented capacity for research and provides the reader with fascinating (albeit sickening) review of the history of Indigenous health both pre and post-contact. During initial contact, while the country of Canada was either non-exist or in its infancy various systems where initialized by the country, by the church and by private organizations to ensure the continuous disadvantage of Indigenous people. Daschuk describes these imposed disparities and their brutal executions with such intricate detail and a level of historical research that makes it difficult for the reader to not seriously question the moral integrity of our nation’s roots and of the powers that be today.

Unlike many pieces of literature regarding Canadian literature, Clearing the Plains: Disease, Politics, and the Loss of Indigenous Life does not stick to the history found to the East but, as the title suggests, provides an in-depth review of the First Nations history that occurred right here at home in Saskatchewan. This is brilliantly documented from archival, academic research, interviews and a plethora of other resources.

The mostly-pleasant, comfortable life of an average Canadian typically leads them to think that Canada has always been one of the most progressive and tolerant countries in the world. In history class, we are led to believe that we have always been the “nice guys”. The thought that our nation has always been founded on the systematic genocide makes most people uncomfortable, it’s certainly not dinner-talk. Genocide is a heavy word but an appropriate one. Despite this book being an academic piece, Daschuk vividly paints the brutal treatment of Indigenous peoples both across the nation and within our own province.

In conclusion, this book is a juggernaut in the context of dark Canadian history and an invaluable resource to teach readers as to how the social climate regarding Indigenous people has evolved to what it is today. The only warning that I could possibly give for this book is a trigger warning. Please be advised that there are dark themes and incredibly violent truths found within these pages.

THIS BOOK IS AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL BOOKSTORE OR FROM WWW.SKBOOKS.COM

 

Soapbox Stories Presents: Life Lessons From A Red Serge – A Book Review

“Life Lessons from a Red Serge”
by Barb Porter and Linda Garvey
Published by McKenzie Carver & Associates
Reviewed by Ben Charles
C$15.95 ISBN: 9781775353607

“Life Lessons from a Red Serge”, written by sisters Barb Porter and Linda Garvey is an uplifting slice of Canadiana that warms the heart and strengthens the spirit. This collection of life lessons, take-aways, and advice compiled by the sororal duo is dedicated to the authors’ brother, Staff Sergeant Peter Garvey, who unfortunately passed away in 2017 at the age of 54 years old. This book acts a touching tribute both to the Saskatchewan born-and-raised officer and to the service of others in need that he strived for. In addition to serving his communities as an RCMP officer, Peter was also actively involved in the Search and Rescue Saskatchewan Association of Volunteers (SARSAV) as a Search and Rescue member. In fact, profits from the sale of this book will be donated to SARSAV in his honour.

The contents of this book contain a series of life-lessons inspired by Peter. The authors had written them into a checklist format with the intention of providing daily reminders to the Sergeant’s grandchildren of how to live as the best people that they can be. The list is categorized into such themes as honesty, listening to others, living with a sense of humour, humility, gratitude, the importance of family, and many others. Each theme is divided as chapters containing a few pages of meaningful insights that a reader of any age and any walk of life can appreciate. The chapters also end with a simple yet powerful summary of the lesson. Personally, I enjoyed the segment of “Honesty, Sincerity, & Integrity” as it provided me with the reminder that it is important to listen to every person that you meet and to take their words seriously. You may never know what a person may teach you from listening to them.

If I could describe this book in one word, it would be “wholesome”. The daily reminders found within this delightful read do not push an agenda but simply act as a guide that anyone can follow and implement into their daily lives at any time. The writers also did a fantastic job at showcasing the Sergeant’s love of dogs and their importance to life and family, and really, who doesn’t agree with that?

I highly recommend this book as a gift for the people in your lives who are passionate about the service of others. This checklist of counting blessings and remembering what’s important in life does not take long at all to read. It could easily become a daily routine for policemen, firemen, nurses, teachers, paramedics, and to anyone in your life that you turn to when you need help. Not only did the authors draw their inspiration for helping others through their brother but also through their own passion for helping others that they have demonstrated through their accomplished nursing careers. By picking up a copy of this book, you too can help people by providing a plethora of insight and contributing to the Search and Rescue efforts of Saskatchewan.

THIS BOOK IS AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL BOOKSTORE OR FROM WWW.SKBOOKS.COM

 

 

 

Gonna

I’m gonna,
you’ll see.
That’s all that I’m gonna,
because gonna is easy.

I don’t need to be bogged down by goals,
I just need a dream,
I don’t need the sum of a whole,
I just need parts of a ream. 

Why can’t the haters appreciate what I’m gonna do?
Why are they so selfish to only care about what I’ve done?
Why can’t they look to the future,
to see my time in the sun?

You’re gonna be sorry that you doubted me,
when I do what I’m gonna do.
I’m gonna be rich, successful, and happy
while you’re gonna be blue

Day-to-day with head in the clouds
as high as I’m gonna be.
While you’re down there on the ground,
planting those tiny little seeds.

Someday, it’s gonna happen.
Someday, my dreams will come true.
Someday, I will.
Someday.

The British Man

I stumbled across a British man

while stumbling out of the bar, 

he picked me up with an outstretched hand,

while speaking from afar.

 

He did not look down on me,

but put me at his level.

He did not think that I needed therapy,

and told me about how hard he fell.

 

He said that he had met wizard,

or at least a well-dressed Indian.

He said that the wolves amongst sheep were his herd,

but it was his new life that he preferred.

 

I asked him, “Why? Did you not have fear?”

He shook his head.

He told me that he hadn’t eaten peas in five years.

Life was nothing but fear, nothing but laying in bed.

 

Across by an ocean

but there when I need.

Dry as a desert

his ideas plant seeds.

 

Thank you, British man,

you talkative bloke.

Not all stories need to end sad,

not all of us need to drown and to choke.

 

My Top Facts That Sound True But Actually Aren’t.

To tell the truth, I am completely full of shit. Do not make the mistake in thinking that I am a bad person because of this, it is really on the contrary. I am one of the few people out there who is honest about how full of shit I actually am.

I understand and accept this about myself so that instead of using my inclination for deception to sell you a steal-of-a-deal 2008 Kia Sorento that, “my manager is gonna be so pissed I’m giving it away for this low”, I channel my deceitful ways into my writing. A writer is essentially just a bullshit artist on paper, after all. I have met enough writers who write bullshit and see themselves as artists, anyway.

But enough of me passing off my flaws as strengths as if I’m in a job interview at Sherwin-Williams Paints that I showed up a half hour late and visibly hungover for. I want to talk about you. You are a nice person, but honestly, you’re a little boring. You know this and all of your friends now this. Your suspicions are all correct, your friends and family definitely do talk about you behind your back and none of it is good. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you, but we talk and they all agree with me. Your uncle has started gambling again too, by the way. Now, before you accept this and go back to watching Grey’s Anatomy and scrolling through NowThis articles like the dull, sad, creatively-bankrupt sack of shit that you are, just know that there is hope.

In the unlikely event that you get invited to a party, it’s integral to create the illusion that you are well-informed, clever, and funny. To do this, all you need to do is to tell fellow party-goers these essential facts to be rewarded with a slew of admiration and respect. Keep in mind that none of these facts are real, but the fact is it doesn’t matter. All you have to do is spit them out with conviction and you will be on your way to being the seemingly interesting person that every struggling Instagram influencer aspires to be.

Without further ado, here they are:

  • A mile is how fast a steamboat can travel in an hour.

 

  • Heineken was invented as a cheap cure to allow Dutch people to forget that they are Dutch.

 

  • The bass guitar was developed by the Christian Mentors Network as a means to allow their members to pursue music and retain sexual abstinence.

 

  • Curling is the only sport left that’s whites-only (I’m actually not sure if this one is fake or not, research it before you use it).

 

  • There is a law in Val Marie, SK that states a man can have sex with his cousin. But he can only do it once, and only if she’s, like, crazy hot.

 

  • Scientists have yet to answer whether men with mustaches develop foot fetishes or if men with foot fetishes prefer to grow mustaches.

 

  • Women evolved from birds.

 

  • Pornography started out as the first indie wrestling films during the 1920s and the genre just kind of got out of hand.

 

  • Morrisey has a part-time job as a collection agent working out of Rawlins, WY. He doesn’t need the money or anything, he just enjoys being a dick to poor people.

 

  • The Premier of Saskatchewan, Scott Moe, is a woman and she actually makes a decent broccoli casserole. Her husband, Darrin, is a pretty chill guy, too.

 

And there you have it. I doubt that you will handle these with dignity or grace, but if you can manage to sputter one of these out to another human being and not spittle Cheeto-dust and rancid breath on them, you might do OK. Until next time, always remember that it’s better to be full of shit than feel like shit.

-BD Charles.