Reg Gothard is a writer and video maker, based in Okotoks, Alberta, Canada.
Reg was born. The dark and dusty site of this event was a bedroom in a brick-built but battered row house just like most post-war East London homes. His family and neighbours were a cheery lot, and his parents were incredibly supportive. His brother was his best friend.
Against all the odds, he grew up in East London able to pronounce his aitches.
His schooling included a Swimming Proficiency badge, two beatings-up, passing the eleven plus exam, nine “O” levels, and one “A” level. University wasn’t an option for most people where he grew up—for some of his peers, staying out of jail might have been a more realistic aspiration – so Reg entered the workforce.
Originally a programmer and database consultant, he now earns his crust making event videos and writing. His time spent in IT reinforced his latent perfectionism which, combined with his strong belief in the Golden Rule, shaped him into the saintly procrastinator that he is today.
He’s been married to his best friend (not his brother) for eons, and is blessed with two smart, talented and compassionate offspring.
Reg’s love of words and books stem from long school detentions spent writing lines and re-shelving books in the library. Despite the circumstances, the lexical love affair intensified and has stood the test of time, although he no longer writes lines, not even as affirmations.
His other early loves include making music. His rate of amplifier acquisition has slowed down from an average of one every fourteen months in the 1970s to one every fourteen years or so now. His forty-year-old Gibson Les Paul is still his favourite guitar.
Locally, Reg is best-known for wearing shorts almost year-round (minus 20°C is the long pants trigger), for having been a Cub Scout leader since 1994, and for cross-dressing in order to play the dame in various pantomimes (the only times his chin has been depilated since 1974).
Reg is saddened by the need for organized religion, horrified by mankind’s infinite capacity for cruelty and indifference (especially towards children), and repulsed by advertising and telemarketing.
He regards poop as a valid topic of conversation and humour, and struggles to manage his sense of humour, cursed as he is with the ability to see something inappropriately funny in too many situations. His plays and articles are the witty, satirical and zany residue that passes through the propriety filters.
When he grows up, Reg wants to write with the imagination and eloquence of Terry Pratchett, the irreverence of Christopher Moore, the erudition of the Monty Python crew, and the popularity of J.K. Rowling.