The Urban Refugee

It is a well-known fact that the latest technology enables us to extract oil with virtually no environmental damage. — The American Thinker.

Oh really? Mr. Kohlmayer, the author of that offending sentence, desperately needs to come spend some time in Alberta. Perhaps he could sit down and have a coffee with my good friend Larrie Thomson who has to truck in water and use an outhouse after Esso destroyed the well on his acreage. A problem that Esso has yet to deal with or compensate Larrie for.

Maybe he could sit down for tea with Jen’s Uncle Brien who lives just up the road from us. Brien has to haul water out to his cattle each day after a local oil company had an ‘oopsie’ that spewed hydrocarbons all over his land and befouled the dugout he used to water his herd. He finally got the oil company to agree to fix their mess (they haven’t yet, by the way), but they only agreed to do so if they could drill even more wells on his property. They wasted no time on drilling their new wells but there’s no sign of the replacement dugout.

Maybe Mr. Kohlmayer could talk to my old neighbors from Grant Way in Edmonton. I know of at least four who moved because they got sick every time the oil boys flared the stack by the pump jack that was at the end of our street. Everyone up and down the block would get pretty sick and congested with each flaring episode.

Maybe he should come out and look at my father-in-law’s scarred cattle pasture where an alarming amount of prairie wool has been destroyed by all of this non-invasive environmentally friendly drilling. It’s going to take a hundred years for the prairie wool to come back, if it ever does.

Or maybe he could talk to my father-in-law about the old well he had that produced safe water until a seismic crew came through and blasted the holy bejeezus out of the local strata while they were hunting for oil. A well that used to be safe suddenly turned toxic and John was out thousands of dollars after having a new, deeper well put in. This was while he was flat ass broke and trying to raise two small children who needed healthy drinking water.

I know, he could talk to all of the residents of a certain Indian Reserve on the outskirts of Edmonton who had to be evacuated when a nearby gas well blew up and then burned for a month. I bet they could tell him a thing or two about how safe natural resource extraction is these days.

Finally, perhaps he should drive up the road and take a look at the ’sweet gas’ well a few klicks from our yard site. There used to be a sign warning people away from it as it was a sour gas well, but the old sign mysteriously disappeared when the new owners acquired it. The funny thing is, we have a regularly calibrated H2S meter and we are continuously able to read low levels of H2S in the area, readings which are always strongest around the ’sweet gas’ well which produces ‘absolutely no hydrogen sulphide’ (according to its new owners who looked panicked when they realized we were monitoring H2S levels in the area).

Yeah, sure.

Look, most of us living out here accept that the world economy is powered by hydrocarbons and will be for some time. We accept that we need to keep pumping this stuff out of the ground to keep everything going. But those of us who live in the communities where the oil and gas is being produced would appreciate it if people stopped bullshitting us about how safe we are. We see the damaged fields and pastures. We get sick every time the wind blows in from nearby flare stacks. We see the crap that gets spilled on the roads and in the ditches. We know better.

Extracting oil is not a safe practice, at least, not in practice. In theory, sure, but in the real world where not so many of the local oil patch employees have a high school diploma and the ability to show up for work sober, well, shit happens. Bad shit. Shit that Vasko Kohlmayer doesn’t have a clue about.

Back in Edmonton we would watch CTV news every night and catch up with the day’s horror stories. Grow-op. Meth lab. Kids hooked on drugs. Another grow-op. The daily newscast is gone now that we’ve moved to an acreage and pushed network television out of our lives, but we’ve already found a replacement for Edmonton’s drug scene. Something far more insidious, as it turns out.

Reader’s Digest.

It’s out here. You’ll find it in practically every rural home. Oh, it starts out easy enough, a free gift here, a small subscription there. Nothing threatening.

Then the special offers start arriving. And the sweepstakes forms. And more special offers. And the condensed books. Before you know it you’re in the middle of full-blown addiction, your bank account is empty, and RD’s collection’s department is on your ass.

I crashed and burned because my own drug and booze problems when I was 23. One minute I was partying my fool head off and having a blast. The next I was broke, homeless, and $5000.00 in debt to a huuuuuge mother of a biker named Pork Chop. I knew that I had to deal with the problem so I arranged a meeting, spilled my guts, and arranged to pay off the debt with interest (and I did). I swear it took three weeks for my ass to lose the pucker factor from that meeting.

Now if you think a 300 lb biker is intimidating, that’s only because you’ve yet to run afoul of RD’s collection’s people. I haven’t personally, but my father-in-law had a significant habit going and it bit him. RD’s ‘collectors’ came after him when he was a few weeks behind ponying up the cash for the last fix they had fronted him with. He described the letter they sent to me, and it was chilling. The experience affected him so badly that he’s trying to go cold turkey. I hope he makes it.

Reader’s Digest is after my wife now. They sent her some books she didn’t ask for, and she was about to have me drop them back at the post office this afternoon. Then she noticed the markings on the box that said ‘free’ and ‘no obligation’. She’s no longer planning to return the books.

“The first baggie is always free!” I wanted to scream at her, but I didn’t. Instead I’m sitting here in my office quietly Googling for intervention programs in the Consort and Provost areas. This could be my only chance to rescue the woman I love from the death grip of Reader’s Digest.

Those bastards.

[This post originally appeared at our old blog at polspy.ca back on June 14 of 2005. It has been reposted here at the request of The Carbuncle.]

I declared personal bankruptcy in 1992. During an examination by the Official Receiver, which a small portion of Bankrupts are subject to, I remember staring at a question on a form asking why I went bankrupt.

“I’m an idiot,” I wrote.

I was much more than that, however. Every time we borrow money to purchase something, we enter a contract with the lender where we give him our word that we will repay him. Our credit ratings are simply score cards that tell lenders how good we are at keeping our word.

When I went bankrupt I had to admit to myself that not only was I worth nothing financially, but that my word meant nothing as well. I was dishonest. Untrustworthy.

In the eleven months that I spent in bankruptcy I was obligated under law to warn anyone who would provide credit to me that I was ‘a Bankrupt’. In essence, that I was a high risk borrower given my poor history at keeping my word. Even after my discharge my credit record contained a big red stamp saying, “Beware: Sean has screwed lenders in the past.” This warning stays on a person’s credit record for seven years.

I’m not complaining about any of this. I was definitely in the wrong, and I feel badly about how I behaved. There was one blessing in the whole mess, and it’s that hitting bottom finally forced me to seek treatment for my alcoholism and drug use, which were raging out of control. I was only 23 yet my skin was turning yellow from the stress I regularly placed on my liver.

It’s 2005 now and I’d like to think that I have learned my lesson. My use of credit is under control. I’m very good about paying my bills on time. I have an excellent credit rating. Apparently my credit rating was so good back in 2001 that the broker who helped me obtain the mortgage for my current home said his computer played “Glory, Hallelujah!” when my credit report came back.

I guess it’s safe to say that as someone who has screwed up badly, I am grateful for the second chance my fellow citizens gave me, and the help I received in reforming my behavior. I have been very careful to try and repay their trust by being a productive member of society, and doing what I can to contribute back.

Which brings me to Karla Homolka, and people like her.

Where does one draw the line? The line which says that some people get a second chance and others don’t.

This line shifts regularly depending on who you talk to and where you live. Here in Canada, you can participate in the drugging, rape, and murder of your sister and get a second chance. In some parts of the United States they have “three strikes” laws where you only get two chances to clean up your act. The third time you screw up lands you in prison for so long that you probably won’t be a threat when you’re released due to advanced old age. And that’s if you’re released at all. In Saudi Arabia, shoplifting will cost you your right hand and selling drugs will cost you your head.

One of the more inspirational people in my life was a fellow who served a stint in Bowden Pen for manslaughter. We’ll call him Bill (not his real name). He was a rummy. He got into a fight with another rummy over a bottle of cheap wine. The other rummy didn’t survive the fight.

I met Bill a couple of years after I sobered up. I bumped into him at a meeting attended by people who share similar goals in that area. He pegged me as a weasel who would make a good ‘fixer upper’ project to add to his list. He helped me tremendously. He helped a lot of others, too. He’s currently working full-time as an addictions counsellor with Corrections Canada because he wants to connect with other alkies like him and give them the tools they need to not wind up in prison again.

There’s no getting around the fact that Bill took a life, albeit accidentally. But it’s hard not to notice the hundreds of people who have their lives back together again because of him. I’m one of them.

So I don’t know exactly where to draw the line that tells those who have crossed it there are no more chances for them. I just know that those who rape and murder kids are on the wrong side of it.

Like Karla.

Staying poor is a result of thinking that others owe you a living. They don’t. The only person who owes you a decent living is you.

Staying poor is a result of becoming too reliant on others. There is a massive infrastructure devoted to helping the poor in this country. It is in the interest of the persons who work in it to help you tread water and keep from sinking, not to pull you out of the water, because that puts them out of a job.

Staying poor is a result of being unwilling to learn new things. You may have dropped out of school in grade eight. You may have gotten a university degree in a field where there are few jobs. Fine. Go back to school if you can. Go visit your public library if you can’t. Make a point of reading and learning something new every day. Earning is tied to learning.

Staying poor is a result of refusing to accept the consequences of your actions. Everybody does stupid things, but not everybody learns from their experiences. The ones who don’t learn are the ones who wind up at the bottom of the heap. Own your mistakes, learn from them, and move on.

Staying poor is a result of cowardice. Getting ahead involves taking risks, and, yes, making mistakes on occasion. Sometimes you land on your feet, and sometimes you get hurt, but either way you gain experience and wind up ahead.

Staying poor is a result of inadequate social networking. The best opportunities will come to you through the people you know, but this doesn’t happen when you limit your activities to the people in your social strata. Do volunteer work, go to church, join a club, whatever it takes to meet new people. Successful people. Opportunities will flow to you through them, if they are impressed with your attitude, sincerity, and vision.

Staying poor is a result of not daring to dream. Every one of us is born with a talent that can carry us successfully through life. Sometimes it takes time to find and develop it, but it’s there. Don’t ever believe that you’re not capable of greatness.

Staying poor is a result of not using your imagination. Don’t think you can work because you can’t afford daycare? Find four other parents in the same boat and each one watches the others’ kids for one day. Now you’ve got four days available for going to work and you haven’t paid a cent for daycare. Most problems are surprisingly easy to solve if you use your imagination.

Staying poor is a result of surrendering to health problems. Granted, there are things you can no longer do, but there are many things you could do if you tried. Think of Terry Fox, Ray Charles, and Stephen Hawking.

Staying poor is a result of having a bad attitude. Successful people don’t like to associate with someone who is always negative and bitter. This inhibits social networking, which in turn inhibits the flow of opportunities that could lift you out of poverty.

Staying poor is a result of dishonesty. Not keeping your word will cause successful people to shun you, creditors to refuse you, and employers to dismiss you. Nothing closes all of the doors that could be open to you like being dishonest. Give your word, mean it, and keep it.

Staying poor is a result of laziness. It is the rare exception where success isn’t earned through blood, sweat, and tears. You won’t get far if you aren’t willing to throw everything you have into what you’re doing.

Staying poor is a result of playing the victim. No matter what happened to you in the past, you need to close the door on it at some point and get on with life. No one wants to hear your tale of woe for the 300th time (really), and your social networks will dry up.

Staying poor is a result of not sharing your load. Some things (e.g. depression, grief, addiction) can easily overwhelm an individual, and it’s okay to lean on others for a bit. Support networks are an important part of social networking. Just be careful not to let a hand up become a handout.

Staying poor is a result of destructive behavior. Drinking too much, using drugs, slutting around, etc., can lead to incarceration, disease, and death. Even if they don’t, you’ll find that successful people, the ones who can bring you opportunity, generally don’t like to associate with that type of behavior. Destructive behavior is bad for your financial, physical, and social health.

Staying poor is a result of exercising poor judgement. Buying a pack of smokes when you’re short on rent money is poor judgement. Playing the VLTs so you can win enough grocery money for the month is poor judgement. Getting back together with an abusive mate who has already broken his promises not to beat you again on numerous previous occasions is poor judgement.

** Inspired by this post.