"The only thing constantly changing is change..." -- Lou Reed

I took this mantra of sorts from "The Raven," and it is more than true. It's been a while since I have blogged, and mostly that is because I'm so busy doing other things. But anyway, I'm listening to this:

This collection is one I often meditate to. Really nice stuff. I'm using it now at the Office because who knows what is going to come up on playlist today? Not that it's all bad but I've made my pronouncements on some of the stuff.

So...change. It is inevitable, and for the past year I have contemplated the oncoming rush of change that has to happen. I have not been afraid of it, more concerned about the execution thereof.

Before I get into details, I have found a job. I accepted an offer from a certain company, and I begin training on Monday. I need to explain something to you...you have been hearing in the news (if not having experienced it yourself), how people just go on and on looking for work, and are not finding anything. How some people have given up looking for work, have lost their benefits, and so forth?

Well, it happened to me. It's no different than what anyone else has gone through, but I am fortunate that I only am responsible for myself and my cats. That made it easier, but I know how hard it's been.

With my acceptance of this offer, I should soon be moved from part-time training to full time. Do you know how long it has been since I have had a full-time job? Meaning however many hours one is supposed to work to get "full-time?"

Five years.

Yes. I was let go from XM Radio in January 2009. I have been a jobber since then. To be fair, I did have severance for a while, and I did go back to school for ten months. I did not plan to go back into broadcasting, but it kind of happened that way.

My official job search lasted 27 months. I have a 92-page document of all of my job contacts, answers, interviews, etc. Now it's not Excel, so it probably would be a whole lot smaller than that, but that's what it is.

I am not one to subscribe to conspiracy theories or wild ideas of what is coming in this country. I left junior high school, folks. I do think however that the landscape of our economy must change as well, and fairly soon or we will have a serious issue.

On the same token, we can't sit around. I have not. My job hunt was a job, as I've often said about other things. We each must make those things happen for ourselves, best we can. 

So, where am I going?

http://www.tangotraffic.com/

If there is one portion of the broadcast world that is still working, it is...traffic. What do people need? What do they have to have to get about their work, their day, their lives?

The science has come a very long way. I spent nearly five years at XM doing traffic for more than 20 cities. It is an art, to take masses of information being hurled at you and turning that into a report listeners can understand.

With Twitter and all the immediate forms of social media, it has intensified. Our thirst for information is huge, but think about what kinds we NEED?

Tango is a new player in the arena, relatively speaking. I do not know the whole deal by far, and I train with one of my old colleagues from the XM and Metro Networks days. We go back a decade or more, and I've seen inside enough to know where we are headed. 

This is pretty exciting, actually. Now, what is funny is back in '09 or '10, I briefly worked for a startup firm called Traffic Talk. Sadly they could not get the money together for this, but the guys who I was with had an interesting idea, another way to make the traffic world understandable. That could even still work, I think, one day.

It's funny: I cannot remember where I saw it, I think it was in a trade publication, around 1990 or '91. There was a joke one-page promotional ad for an LA radio station: ALL TRAFFIC, ALL THE TIME.

The idea was that you would have DJ's or hosts on the air in studio, giving you constantly updated traffic with their own twists. "The Great Pandini" was a guy who would hypnotize you while driving; another guy who's name I can't remember would play driving music to make your commute go faster, like stuff from the James Bond movies.

My favorite was the guy who would broadcast live, every day from a car. And a lucky motorist might get a huge rubber arrow stuck to their ride as they traveled about: this was the DRIVE-BY SHOOTING OF THE DAY.

Now, that probably would not fly in LA, or anyplace else for that matter. But it was funny.

Back then, we didn't have Internet, but for a very few clued in tech geeks. Cell phones were not a big thing for everyone, nor pagers. That would have been a very big challenge to do something like that.

All traffic would not work on a terrestrial radio station, but it sounds like it would be fun. I believe in Tokyo there is a low-power AM station that just does traffic, but I don't recall details. Stuff I learned while researching one of my books.

Bandwidth on satellite radio makes it easy to allocate space for Sirius/XM to do traffic channels, though the mashing of them together, post merger I wonder about.

Now how about the traffic world? Tango is out in Chester County, which is just to the west of Philadelphia. The warehouse they are in is a temporary location, and they'll move to a new place soon. Jim Battagliese, my former XM boss and one of the gurus of the changing face of traffic reporting likes to tell the story of his first company operating out of his house in Philly. The whole house, from attic to basemen was the traffic center. Think about that.

This is not unusual, not at all. Now, I have to tell where I was the other day.

Without naming names, I had an interview in Maryland at a company that has been around a long while. I wasn't sure what to expect...I didn't expect this:

A fairly active city site, floors up in a big building. You'd think this is gonna be slick, right, professional, all that?

WRONG.

The only parking was in an expensive garage next door. I then had to go through levels of madness to get into the building, show my ID, jump through hoops and then take an express elevator.

I got to the big glass door. It is locked. At 11 am.

It is dark. No receptionist. No lights on, apart from a screensaver showing all the stations they do traffic and stuff for.

The man who would have become my boss arrived after me. I waited while he did whatever he had to do to get ready for me. Quiet...deathly quiet.

I was taken on a tour of a dark, poorly lit level of Hell that only Dante could imagine. There is a horror movie to be shot here.

This huge floor was a dead zone. Lights off, cubicles that looked like from a time capsule. It seemed all the occupants got up and left things as they were, like they were going to come back. And they vanished. 

Everywhere I turned, there were places where people once worked, but no more. I saw at one corner nearly three dozen computer towers stacked on the floor like coffins.

The man I spoke with was very nice. He tried to put the best spin on things, consolidation of people down here, this, that, other. 

There was one person working in a tiny studio in one corner. Another way down the hall in another studio. The traffic center looked like an air traffic control center from the 50's or 60's. Three people there. Now it was not drive time, to be fair, but this was surreal.

I have never seen anything like this in my life. If this is how it runs, then fine, I've been in crazy places too. But this...I thought of Luigi Pirandello's plays and the interplay of ongoing behavior that leads all to think the rest of the universe is insane, but you are not.

Or is it you that is mad?

Escape from the time capsule led me home, and Tango's offer was waiting. So there you have that.

Honestly...would I have worked for the other? If that was the only offer, yes. What choice have I?

Change again, this is what has come about. I will have to move, after 14 years in York, 13 in the same place. There are things I will miss, but much I cannot miss.

The sameness. I have written and spoken of the feeling that this part of the world fears change more than most, and refuses to do so. A colleague likes to say this part of the world "still thinks Kennedy is president."

They live in 1962, Camelot, JFK and Jackie, Reds under every bed, the Cubans are coming to destroy us, and what do those "Negroes" want, anyway?

They didn't know from gay people. Of course where I move, is that any different? At least I am close to Philly, so that will be a change.

I have to move, and I do not like that. Moving is a horrific prospect, and I will have a company do it while I can still afford it. Trying to find a place, going through all that again, relearning my surroundings, and navigating a big city...

...you get used to knowing where stuff is, and I imagine "here" will fade away, as it does for most people. You go somewhere, where's everyone else, right?

The 'net lets us all stay sort of in touch, so wherever I go I know I'll be sure to hear/see about what everyone else is doing. The next chapter in the great adventure, right?

So what does that mean for other things?

I do not know at this point for a lot of it. I don't have a clue.

As for the writing, it goes on. I have to do a couple of readings of "Parasite Girls" in the near future here, and I'll find other spots to do them. I know I have to do them, and yet I am rather worried about trying this method. It bothers me, but I also know (back to the changing landscape) I have to engage the public.

Got a letter today from Barnes & Noble, regarding my wish to get "Parasite Girls" on the shelves. They just don't have the space for self-published books, and I get that. Worth a try.

They said they noted that most self-published authors only sell "about 100 copies." Well, thanks for that bit of lovely news, I'm soooooo encouraged!

But they are right, I guess. So what is my writing going to do? Apart from being therapy, and a hobby? I still plan to keep on writing. I pretty much do not see myself ever getting a publishing deal, but I think a lot of that has to also do with building a body of work, and I am just getting started. I hope to live long enough to see it really happen. But again, I must engage.

"Parasite Girls," well it's too soon to tell how it is going to be received, but I've gotten some nice comments. For that I am thankful, and I'm going to keep at it.

What's next...oh...lots of things, but what will be next? I do not know for sure at this point.

www.behance.net/torygates is my online site for numerous things. There, you will find rough cuts and openers. Two or three possibilities are right there. 

So I'm probably going to give out more copies of "PG" than I sell, but that's how it goes. 

The thing that is important to impart on you: my painter friend Sunny said over 20 years ago when I expressed doubt: just do it.

Not the Nike way, but the way each of us have. There you are.

So, hopefully I will have time to blog again in the near future and tell you how this new venture goes. And how everything else goes...time to move on because I feel my years are slowly getting away from me. Every day I have is one to make something happen, something more. 

Warren Zevon had an interesting take when he faced cancer, and the final days of his life: "Enjoy Every Sandwich."

I think he found a sense of place. Lou Reed did as well...his wife Laurie Anderson wrote that right to the end, Lou's sense of wonder at the world didn't go away. He lived to the end.

We gotta just do it.

Peace, Out.

Depression, Mania and the Edge of Madness

Greetings, all...my friend Riz likes to refer to her readers as "blurkers," and I wonder if that's not an apt term. Well, get ready for this one, because we are about to go on a ride.

I am not writing this for you to feel sorry for me, so please don't do that. Also, I am right now back on an even keel, and we'll see just how long that lasts. 

I write this mostly to give you an idea of how I feel at this time, and also how a lot of people (I think) are doing. This is not uncommon, not that extreme, and nothing for you to be terribly worried about. But this shit happens, and with me, it fucking happens.

About ten days ago, I felt it coming...I felt the very slow surge of emotions moving on me, and you know what it is. It's like being around Cape Horn in a tiny boat; you're already battling gigantic waves, and then you see it in your binoculars: that one, monstrous, 100-foot tsunami that is coming right at you. And you can't do a thing about it.

I have reason to feel this way. Yet, should I? 

First, let's take a look at the situation. Oh, and I am about to shamelessly plug again:

Yes, once again, my book "Parasite Girls" is ready for sale, and you can get it here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/377011

Sales are slow...very slow. I should know this, right? It's an e-book, no, there's no book in hand, not right now anyway.

But do you need that? Really?

Look, I'm as much in love of the feeling of a good, old-fashioned BOOK. I love the feel of them. I used to have tons of them, and I still have more than I need. 

That's where part of this issue comes from. I did not expect it to fly through cyberspace, and I did not expect "Parasite Girls" to become a runaway hit...but I would have like more than just a few downloads of the free part that you can read to decide if you want it or not.

Ah, well...such is life. I remind myself, this is only a first step to getting more, and even better stories out there. If this is how it goes, then so fucking be it.

NOW...TELL THE OTHER SIDE OF MY BRAIN THIS!

I am poised on the edge of writing a new story...in fact, I have two or three that I could start any day. But...I have to promote the first one.

My friend Jess has kindly asked me to do a reading of "PG" at her restaurant in downtown York. The Ladybug Cafe (shameless plug for my good friend) is a cool place...great food, nice people, all good...so I will do it on the 11th of December. I am still not sure how I'm going to execute this, but I must engage, read, and talk to the people. Whomever will be there. My erstwhile bassist, Dan Shearer has offered to add guitar to the drama that shall come from this.

Haha...oh, this is hilarious as I write. Now I'm chuckling...everyone's going to think I'm mad...oh, where I am, they already know that.

So yeah, I'm not done...I'm not quitting, and I am forcing my brain to understand that all things take time. You have been patient this long, keep going, do not quit.

Okay...now the next situation:

I am going into my fifth year without full employment. My jobbing about at various places does not exactly translate into good, or even livable income. I'm holding the line just fine, but you know what? Something has to give here.

I have spent two years actively job hunting and searching. Yesterday, in exasperation I turned most of the work over to a service, and hope they can get me some additional looks, hits, and so forth. We shall see.

A few weeks ago, I went to Philly, and appeared at a networking party. It was done at the Wells Fargo Arena; basically, I bought a ticket to the Sixers game, and got stuffed into a tiny room with 75 other job seekers. We were shuffled about to team executives from the Sixers, Phillies, Union, the ECHL and others.

Met some pretty cool people, and very interesting folks. I did better talking with them than getting hold of the executives. The Sixers I don't think were in charge of this; the company that did it does not know how to lay on a networking event, we all agreed. Pretty slip-shod.

I missed the tipoff, and I only watched the first half, because I had to work in HBG that morning...Sixers got their clocks cleaned by the Warriors, who have got some pretty damned good players these days.

No time to really enjoy the experience, though I will go to a game again in future.

So yeah...I also was turned down for numerous jobs, and have been ignored for at least one that I have done before. How it goes...

...so now...let's get to the good part, shall we?

The tsunami hit me over the weekend. Today (Wednesday) is the first day in several that I have not ridden waves of mania and savage depression. This has not been fun, folks. One minute, I feel fine...the next, I'm ready to commit atrocious acts. No, not really, but you feel like you could.

There are ways to counter this, but none of them were working. I hit the pool yesterday, despite having done it the day before and not being in the best of rested condition. But I tore through it, and felt better for doing so. Dragging myself to the gym and forcing myself in there was the only way. 

When I cannot avidly go there, and see that place as Hell, you know there's trouble.

The cold is another matter. The weather overall, really. Overcast, dark, rainy and cold conditions here, no snow, but I'd rather have that. Most days like these don't bother me, but it's taken a toll on me again.

The past two days have been gut-wrenching. My ego has been tamped back down into its little box, as I demand that I stop thinking like a fucking adolescent about why life didn't turn out right. It does no good, so I will not let that to light anymore.

So what happens is, you force everything into a tight space, and it's not big enough to accommodate it. My feelings of inability start to ooze forth, and I wonder what now can I do to correct this? Is it to late?

I try to consider that I've done about all I can right now, and there really isn't much more available to me at this point. So now what do I do?

The key thing is to "DO" something. I am not a slacker; I have been shamed into lack of slackness from years of my upbringing, where on a farm if the work is done, FIND MORE.

And it's true...the work is never done. There is something else to do, just find it. If you can't find it, you are not looking hard enough.

I have this strange collection of little jobs that I should do, and I keep saying I'll do them, and I never do. That is the most galling and awful thing to me...I hate that...I hate being able to do a lot of things, but not the little ones that have to get done, from a practical standpoint.

One of those is sitting in the back seat of my car right now; today, I was to take this set of items to a place and get them seen to...place was closed...owner hadn't shown up yet.

Thank you for your interest...NOT.

Well, there are other strange things...appointments...I have one to make in about 40 minutes from now, but that is easy. Getting my car to a shop for inspection will finally happen next month, but it took days for me to finally just call the place and make an appointment.

I think I fear the lack of my ride. Sitting for hours in that place, with a blaring television of shit network programming, and...PEOPLE.

I'll make sure I have my headset with me, should that arise.

I have to also take initiative on another thing, but I'm uncertain because I don't have much experience in the area. The only person I know and trust with that can't do it.

OK...need to own this motherfucker, and just do it.

I can do many other things, why not this?

Let's now take this up a notch, to a period of the year that everyone can understand, OK?

THE HOLIDAY SEASON.

Do you know how much I CAN'T FUCKING STAND the holidays?

This has NOTHING to do with religion, or Christmas, or any of that. Just so you know. I don't care one damned bit how you celebrate, or how you don't, that's your business. 

In broadcasting there are no days off. I tend to be the one that is on duty, at least part of those days, and that's fine. I don't mind it.

When it comes to Thanksgiving, I now have my own tradition. I like to cook, and I'm not very good at it, but I do like to do that. So I try to build my time around that, if I'm not working. I like football as much as the next guy, but since I don't have cable and I don't drink, I'll be listening on the radio, probably. All good, no worries.

I will NOT BE SHOPPING ON THANKSGIVING. I will also AVOID LIKE THE PLAGUE the so-called Black Friday. 

I understand for some that is a tradition, it's fun, and yes you can get great deals. Cool, go for it. Knock yourselves out.

I just don't need to do it. I fail to understand it, never have.

Actually today is the day to get the one thing I really want, but I tend to vacillate about whether or not the "thing" I want is really something I need.

And do I need one more thing? I've spent the past month or so in another round of removing stuff I don't want or need. Those recycling bins you see all over the place, they know me pretty well. I just hope that stuff really does get recycled, given to others in greater need than I. I hope so. There's my give-back...these things are good, useable, safe...use them.

So yes...my internal whatever has been a fucking mess the past two weeks or so, and I'm sure it's not going to stop. This time of year, and then extending right through Xmas to the end of it, I have no idea how to cope except to move through it. 

Yule will be a good night to be alone, to light up my altar and reflect on where we are now. That is usually what I do this time of year, but I also tend to approach that with some caution and even more dread.

I have to tell myself this: I have accomplished much in these years, and I have more to offer, and to give. I will do it, and I will not quit. My family doesn't quit for nothing, and that's that.

I am riding out a not-so-perfect storm...today I'm good. Tomorrow, who knows?

This is what I deal with on some level, every fucking day of my life. This is not fun. This is also not for you to feel sorry, as I've said. 

If I could push a button and turn this off, I would not do it. My creative abilities would vanish, and I'd be nothing more than a drone in a suit, sitting at a desk somewhere, or walking the aisles of a convenience store in the middle of the night. I would not be me. I would be even less.

Whatever happens, I have to keep pushing, promoting and moving forward. The survival mechanism, I suppose; I do admit to lacking some of the tools I need to really get forward, but I made it this far.

Whatever...time to get going on "things." Fun, fun, fun...