Shut Up And Listen 68

Dear Chad,
	First off, how are you? Feeling well? No chest pains or anything? Well, you’re 44 now. Forty-four. Shit, man, that’s old. I’ll bet you’re sitting here, looking at this letter to yourself and thinking “Why forty-four?” Well, that’s because dad’s turning forty-four this week, and dammit, I want you to remember what he was like and what I’m like. That, and it’s twenty-five years from now.
	Look around. Is the year 2027 everything it should be? Is the future bad for me? Am I happy? Do I have a wife and kids and a house and a pet I really don’t want, but got it when my first kid was born and dammit, I love that little guy now? Am I still writing? Hell, am I still writing this column? Wouldn’t that be great? Writing this column. I guess you’d be on number . . . 1368. Well, I guess if you are, that one can be a letter back to me. 
	Hey, what age did you go bald? Don’t look so offended, man; we both knew it was going to happen sooner or later (and judging from what the mirror shows me, it’s gonna be sooner). If you do have a wife, get up and go kiss her hello for me and then laugh at yourself back when you thought you’d never get a chick. Hopefully you’re also not using the word chick anymore. Chicks don’t like it, I’m told.
	I’ve got Radiohead blaring on the stereo. OK Computer. You’ve probably got all their albums, don’t you? I’m jealous of that. You’ve got the albums that I haven’t heard yet. Same with all the bands I like and probably with some I’ve never heard of yet. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if CDs have gone the way of the cassette by that point. You know, people still use them, but only old people. 
	Well, I’ve been rambling on about nothing for a while, so I better get down to business, huh? Do you still care, man? Do you sill look out at the world, see all the shit that’s going on and just want to scream? Do you wish you could walk up to the leaders of the world and just nail them in the balls and tell them to get a fucking brain? Do you still sneer when they call the president the “leader of the free world”? 
	If you don’t, you should. Don’t start trying to give me an explanation about how you grew up and how the world’s not what I think it is. That’s just your way of telling me you’re beaten. You can’t stand up to the onslaught of stupidity that they’re sending our way. Sure, you’re only one man and you probably won’t change anything, but dammit, that’s not stopping me, is it? 
	I hope you haven’t become dad. He’s down in the dungeon right now like every Saturday (and Sunday and weeknight and day off). I mean, I hope you have your own little place in your house to be alone, but don’t spend all your time there, okay? Go out and spend some time with your family. Give mom a call. Hell, maybe even call up one of the sisters and see what’s what. 
	You still writing? I’ll bet you are, even if you aren’t getting paid in any way for it. That’s one of those things I know you’re still doing. Even if it’s just a page or two a week, you’re still writing. I do hope you’re getting paid for it though. That’d be nice, eh? Being paid to do what you do for fun. Although, the money better not have made it a job to you. It’s fun, remember that. Remember writing something where you just looked at it and went “Now THAT’S some great fucking writing!”
	I’m starting university in the fall. At least, I hope I am. Money’s a concern. Especially if I don’t get OSAP. If you’re reading this, I’m sure you finally got some courage and did something, right? I’m spending everyday doing nothing. I watch TV, I go online, I write, I eat, I sleep. The people around me look at me and think what a waste. I was supposed to be the success, remember? I was the smart one. The one who did good in school. I hope you got your act together. If you did, can you tell how you did it, so I can? 
	HEY! I just realised that you’ve had sex! At least, you damn well better have. If not . . . dude, suicide is looking very, very, very good. Was it worth all the dumbass worrying and shit? Looking around and seeing people with each other and being a little jealous? Hell, was it worth Troy ragging on you? The question now becomes who first: you or Matt? Heh.
	You ever get those interview answer back from Grant Morrison? Because I’ve been waiting for months now and I’d really like them. Maybe I’ll e-mail him later AGAIN and resend the questions.
	Now, if things aren’t how I’d hoped they are, I’ll bet you’re reading this and feeling pretty depressed, aren’t you? Sorry about that. I’m probably about to depress you more by asking about the Five Goals In Life. If you’ve done two, I’ll be happy and so should you.
	Get laid, get published, own a slushy machine, own a Tetris arcade machine and blow up the world (remember to send John Morrison a message saying “Told you so” before doing this one). 
	So? We happy again? I hope so. (And I’ve used that word a lot, haven’t I?)
	I just put on Gordon by The Barenaked Ladies. Damn, it’s one fine CD, isn’t it? Put it on, man, and crank it. If the kids complain tell them that this is what music really is and not that shit they listen to. 
	You ever get back to The Buggering Of Canada like I always planned to do? I still think it could be one great book. I know some people who would buy it based just on the title. Remember, the cover is supposed to be a Mountie giving it to a beaver up the ass, okay?
	Laugh. Right now. Laugh at me and all the things that are worrying me right now, okay? Laugh and remember how they all turned out fine and that my worrying was for naught. 
	Seriously, don’t be like dad. Look, I think he’s a joke, so do Sarah and Brett, and so does mom. That’s sad, man. I pity him because of it. His wife and kids think he’s a joke. If you’re like this, change it. Despite what he taught you as a kid, your family IS more important than TV, comics and books. I mean it.
	“Brian Wilson” just came on. I’ve been thinking that I should get back to that autobiographical comic I was writing. You know, What A Good Boy: The Story Of A Teenager In Like. I’ve been on page four for months. Although I’ve got to finish Black Hole Sun first. Maybe a 96 page graphic novel is the best way to lead into a 300 or more page one, eh?
	This is one of those depressing songs. Nostalgia and shit, I guess. I remember listening to it in grade ten and thinking that asking out Lauren Williams was the most important thing in the world. Never did do it, did I? Heh. Why was I so scared? Not that I could do it now. Ask out a girl, that is. Why am I so scared?
	Did you get your teacher’s certificate? How about teaching writer’s craft and making it a good course? You know, a 1000 word column every week from every student. Not telling them how to write, but more teaching them to just write. Let them do their own thing. Help them find their voice and style, not impose yours on them. And for fuck’s sake, no plot maps or mind maps or anything with bristle board (unless they choose to use it).
	I want to change the world. Leave my mark on it. I think that’s what I really want to do. That’s why I write and why I want to teach and why I do what I do. Well, have we made our mark? Have we changed the world just a little for the better?
	Now the big question: you still an atheist? Do you still laugh at the idea and consider it a sign of weakness to have to rely on an imaginary friend? Do you still want to kick god in the balls?
	If you have kids, did you raise them the way I hope to? Making them smart, freethinking people? Did you read them Mark Leyner while they were babies in a goofy voice? Did you talk to them? Just talk to them and listen and share and learn? Are they Leafs fans? They should be. If they go for Montreal, man, you’ve failed, I think. Heh. By the way, have the Leafs won the Cup yet? If not, it’s been what, around sixty years? Damn, that is a long time.
	I think I’m going to go now. Seriously, write me back. I won’t be able to read it, but hey, it’ll make you feel good.
	Remember: “Think for yourself and question authority.”
Later, man.

Chad Nevett
July 6, 2002

PS—I’m gonna play some Mario Kart now. Good times.