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...
I'm still alive, but it was one more long, strange weekend.
Walkman starter, "Highways and Heartaches," by Joe Ely. That should help wake me up, along with a large iced coffee, plus whatever medicines are working in me.
Friday went well at WITF; a good, smooth day, and I'm finally figuring a lot more out. Turned out to be one hell of a day, and evening.
Got to see Alice again, and we are definitely something. Well, she's something anyway! Where the hell have we each been all our lives...I'm just happier than I've been in a long time. Interesting what a relationship will do, isn't it?
The weekend veered off into weirdness. I did the afternoon/evening shift for KYW, and while that was all well and good, I had no idea what was waiting for me after.
In the middle of all this, I am back home for Beltane. The coven and friends gathered at my house, at the last minute for the weather. Short, but very good ritual; went well, had a good time. Of course, mindful I have to get up in the am.
I had to do the fast turnaround, which meant leave midnight Saturday and then be back there at like 10 am Sunday...easy, right.
WRONG.
The first part of the shift went pretty fast; the Phillies were playing in the evening, the Sixers are out of the playoffs, and the Flyers dropped their first game to the Bruins the night before. The Union won, but KYW doesn't give a fuck about soccer, even though they send reporters to the home games.
"Cready Stomp," studio outtake by Pearl Jam...nice. Perfect for what comes next:
About 2 pm, Rick, my boss calls. Our far-flung weekender who works for ESPN is stuck in New York State with a broken down ride. He will not make it. I proceed to make the decision to stay, until midnight.
Double shift time...running on little sleep as it is, I figure, no big deal, right...yeah, right. I keep going, the night drags on, and of course, the Phils and Mets go into extra innings!
14 innings. 1-1 game; at least it was interesting to some extent. I felt so brain dead, normally I can find other things to do, multi-task, etc. Not really.
I didn't get out of there until 1 am, Monday. 15 hour shift. Hey it's money, right? As I was prepping to leave, I see my WITF boss, Tim Lambert for the second time. He was here when I arrived, and he was back before I left.
Reason? Heard during the game that Osama bin Laden had been killed in a firefight in Pakistan. So he's in to do the news thing, and planned to go over to the all-night diner across the highway to get sound.
The fun of this world of radio of ours.
"Infinite Love," Nawang Khechog...very different segue, no?
I stagger over to the Sunoco station to get coffee for the ride home...gonna need it. See some punk band rolling up for gas...can't even remember their name now, a lot of S's in the name.
Crash and burn.
Eight hours later, I'm awake. Why, I don't know. Monday, back to the Office, where I finally start to get to work again on "Silk Road Days." This book is taking a long time to write; I've been rewriting, and adding scenes through the first part of it, because there's a lot missing, and I have a lot more development to do.
Oh, and the TrafficTalk gang called. I was asked to help cut a phone promo on a new idea they have to deal with the service. Still talking with people, still working on ideas, funding, etc.
So now...I was up until 1:30 am, writing, and doing stuff. The band is hopefully going to gather, at least two or three of us, but would you not know?
Darren, our fill-in drummer was to host Dan and myself; just now he calls...power's out.
Weird shit. So waiting now to see if Dan's awake and what he'll do.
"Your Hands," John & Yoko...mostly Yoko...oh dear. Her poetry is good, her voice is NOT. Skip.
"I Can't Explain," studio version, the Who...now we're talking!
Back to Alice...can't stop thinking of her and talking of her. I have been loathe to write much about her, or mention who she is online, because I don't want to jinx what we have here. She's a professional stagehand, and knows all that behind the scenes stuff. She has an attitude, she's Pagan (slightly different than me, but who cares?), and rather uninhibited.
Think I finally found my match. Damn. It is a very strange situation, but I'm quite pleased, and very happy. To have someone tell you they love you is really amazing...especially when you know they mean it.
"Fortune Teller," Who Live at Leeds...ahhh...yes, there's a lot of Who on my Walkman.
So, I now look at things a little differently. I have a reasonable amount of work right now, and while the new guy at ITF starts later this month, I at least have some extra hours. All good, but I do wonder about further down the road. Just gotta keep dealing with things as best I can. Yet I sometimes wonder about my decisions at times.
See what we can do, I suppose...we all do.
Pittsburgh in a couple of days...hope to make it there in time to have lunch with an old friend and radio colleague, then putz about until I meet Riz for the Jim Jeffries show...and of course, work all weekend right after. This is life; this is what we insane people do.
"Trees," Paul Weller...weird fucking song on his latest album...about sex changes, I think...or something...need to skip. I love the Jam and Weller on his own, but oh God not now...
"The Secret Agent Ending," Philip Glass, "Glass Reflections" CD...gotta get going, now.
Okay...I cannot say I'm crawling from the wreckage, because I'm probably still in it. What have I been doing?
It's been a Weekend from Hell, in terms of being busy. I had to do what I call the turnaround; Saturday afternoon/evening at WITF, doing KYW Sports. Got some sleep, and was back up there for the first shift Sunday morning.
That ran until just before five, then rushed over to Clear Channel to produce the Bears playoff game on the Ticket.
You know you're dealing with sports junkies when you arrive at the station and find your boss rocking his custom-made Flyers jersey, with Jeff Carter's name and number. The Flyers were still battling the Sabres, and every team of interest was in a win or go home situation. Sixers won, but the Flyers and Bears were both in need of victories.
Now, I've blogged in the past about the hellish nature of Hershey Bears hockey games and the conditions at Clear Channel. Well, this night things worked alright. One hell of a game I'm working, while Art is watching the Flyers in the WHP live studio.
*Walkman Update* -- I'm starting mine because of certain things going on in the Office...I am no longer in a patient mood and must get this done while people talk about ghosts and stuff. You have to be here.
"Rollercoaster," by Black Mountain is first up...well, it was the last song in the shuffle, and when you turn on the Walkman there it is. Loud, heavy shit...NOT the Ohio Players/RHCP disco song, either.
Okay...so the Sixers faced elimination and beat the Heat earlier in the day. Flyers in big trouble with Buffalo; the game goes back and forth, and Art is living and dying with the Flyers. My friend Randy "the Rock" Johnson lives and dies with the Sabres, so there you are.
"Amazing Journey," the Who...Live at Leeds remastered. Nice...
Game goes to overtime...I can see the game on the TV monitor through my window from the Ticket across the hall and into the window of WHP. Art's glued to the screen.
During an intermission interview I get the chance to take the loooong walk down the hall, through the secured doors and into the bathroom. MURPHY'S LAW OF RADIO #69: THE RESTROOM SHALL ALWAYS BE THE FURTHEST PHYSICAL POINT FROM THE AIR STUDIO THAT IS HUMANLY POSSIBLE. NO EXCEPTIONS.
So anyway, I'm coming back; I hear a SCREAM!!!
"Down on the Farm," James Blundell is next...interesting segue.
Immediately I wonder...is Art having a coronary or did he fall on his sword? Did the Flyers win or lose?
He screamed more than once. Anyway, yeah...the Flyers pulled it out in OT, so there's a Game 7 in that series. Art was so relieved.
Okay...he leaves not long after, and I continue to work a very contentious playoff game between the Bears and the Charlotte Checkers. This is a Game 6, too; the defending AHL champions are on the verge of getting rolled in the first round by the former Albany River Rats.
1-0 until late in the third, when the Bears finally push one past the Checkers' goalie, a guy named Murphy who has had Hershey's number all year. Jubilation! Redemption! You can just hear it through the voice of John Walton...they might just get 'er done!
Now, I've done pretty well to keep the game tight, and I'm not having any trouble. Except that pesky Macro (told you about those) that's mocking me at 8 pm.
The computer Macro is a command that orders the computer to take over, with specific programming at a specific time. These Macros are also fired usually every hour to keep the computer and the station synced up with the network.
"Bad News is Coming" -- Luther Allison, title track of a Motown album from '72. The only bluesman on Motown. Beautiful, gritty stuff.
Now...I can kill that Macro if I want. My friend and colleague Rob showed me a method of working the computer and the macros so I can get a smoother transition. Easy enough. I actually was able to figure out what to do.
Well, it all goes for nothing, because 90 seconds into OT, Charlotte scores...to again quote Rob, with a borrowing from Walton's own verbiage..."GOOD MORNING, GOOD NIGHT, GOOD LORD!"
Not quite what John says. Anyway, game over, season over, that's it, that's all. Went out well, John said nice things about us, and we're outta there.
Transition set, done and back to regular programming. Okay! Finally ended that season on a good note.
Now, the night ain't done yet!
I decided not to go home, because it was pointless to drive all that way, sleep four hours (maybe) then get up for WITF (again) and Morning Edition. So I availed myself of "Chez WITF."
There is a bed somewhere in the building (I won't say where) for employees who are overnighting due to bad weather. I think that's what it's for...essential personnel or something like that. There are also showers.
Very nice. So I did crash out, and much to my surprise I did get about four hours of sleep before the alarm went off. Okay...last leg of the triple.
"Morning Edition" had some minor glitches of my own doing, but none that anyone would have noticed. News went fine, mechanics getting better.
The stressful part is building a news log from scratch. I mean, the stories are pretty much all there, apart from anything you find on the overnight. Steps, lots of steps and computer stuff to do. On and on and on...
Did the first two hours, and didn't do bad at all. Tim's happy with me, thankfully. So...here I am four hours later, still awake, working on three cups of coffee since early this morning and a large marble mocha and trying to keep enough energy going to finish one or two last tasks before I go to bed. Really.
"Rambunctious Boy," John Fogerty comes over the Walkman. "Blue Moon Swamp" was a great CD, stands up to "Centerfield" easy...in fact, it kills "Centerfield."
More ideas have come for "Silk Road Days," and I'm going to be adding more to the front of the plot. This book could go a bit longer than the others I've written. Not a series, at least not yet. I gotta see where this thing goes. I have no idea.
Damn, it's a nice day out there. Sun's out, gonna be like 80 today, if not hotter. Back to WITF Thursday and Friday for this...so I'll again be awakening at 2:30 in the morning soon. Joy.
But now I've a couple days off. What to do, what to do? Well, I have a lot to do. My brain needs to digest more stuff from the job, and I have to arrange and schedule so much shit.
"I Me Mine" -- The Beatles (the Let it Be Naked version).
With that, I gotta do something...crash, burn, something........................
