The "Sweet Time" Morphs into Salt!
I usually call my weekends the "Sweet Time", because it's usually the only time when I truly feel like myself, not some droid. So far it's achieved more of a saccharine taste, where's the honey? I never could figure out why people ever use that stuff in coffee etc., not only does it have the worst taste imaginable, it's carcinogenic!
I've managed to sink into the Black Mood #98 abyss, it's so frustrating because I know full well that this is going to be a waste of what could be a fine evening. Let's just say I feel like I'm the human equivalent of the Southern Reconstruction after the Civil War. I got sober 7 years ago and it's been like dragging an anchor uphill. I completely forgot that the 30th was my sobriety "birthday", that's a telling sign of my mindset lately. Nothing like working off thousands of dollars in back child support payments, taxes, tickets and bills while trying to get some semblance of a"life" together. I know this is just an imaginary utopia oriented vision that us humans like to indulge in. Life has plateaus of accomplishments and various criteria for "success", for me to continue to chase the proverbial carrot on a stick of "arriving" is futile. I want to see perhaps some progress that is a little more rapid than grass growth. Not only is it like pissing in a dark suit-no one else seems to notice, including myself! I have purchased a camera for time lapse photos so I can see my credit card balances go down 20 bucks in three years. Suze Orman would be proud! I have to commend myself on some private victories, however, I've gotten some of them accomplished. I do want to jettison some of the demons, baggage and issues that continue to plague me. Anyone want to pick up a couple of them at half off? Hmmm, maybe I can sell some of the bad memories of my ex on ebay? Two demons, used, to good home-start the bidding at $5.00, "Buy It Now" at 19.99.
I've got another period of silence going on with her and my 13 year old son. I call and get her answering machine or no machine at all. I email them, I get no answers. My folks came to visit in July and my son flew down with his Grandma. His Grandpa flew in to town and we had a couple of fine days hanging out together. I believe a good time was had by all. It was really nice to spend some time with him, I don't see him nearly enough. He lives a thousand miles north in a town that you can only fly to. It's prohibitively expensive for me to fly up there very often. I wish he was a little more into my music, he seemed to be totally disinterested in hearing me play while he was here. Not that it's been a major part of my life or anything. Sometimes I have to admit I get resentful about it. I had a fairly nice career going in music before he came along, he wasn't exactly planned, he was more of a "surprise" I'm inclined to think that really went down was this was her attempt to "trap" me, even though at the time it was fairly obvious that we weren't going to make it as a couple. I guess I should be grateful that we were never married. After enduring over ten years of nasty phone calls etc. she's now been taking medication for her bi-polar disorder. I'd forgotten she'd been diagnosed as having it and was just a plain b**ch! I go to work and try to do the best I can, pay the bills and maintain some reasonable facsimile of happiness. So this whole experience of fatherhood has been a real rollercoaster ride, but my son is a good kid and I am proud of him. I wish we lived closer and tried to make that happen by getting my position back at my old gig years ago. So there is still pain and some resentment felt by everybody, it appears. "Leave it to Beaver" it isn't, just another complicated family situation
in the new millenium...
All I've been trying to do for the past 5 years is get my small studio together and it continues on. I wonder why I even bother sometimes, although digital recording gear is coming down in price, I'm still doing the po' boy blues scene. I just have to keep persevering. I had my own homestudio together in California and little did I know how long it would take to get one going up here in Alaska. Of course, that was due to the fact that I had no intention of becoming domestic and liked being a vagabond, traveling light. This is why I have the intense desire for the acoustic, can you truly be a vagabond without one?
For some reason, even though I'm basically used to being a recluse I've been experiencing crushing loneliness lately...Solitude can do a "quick change" routine and become "ye olde lonely".
"It's all perspective" says the gargoyle on my shoulder. "Bulls**t" says the one. I worry about this, isn't there supposed to be an angel and a devil perched somewhere? All I've got is one gargoyle in a white robe (why is it terrycloth?) and the other one in a black trench coat. Nothing appears to be on underneath. Lawdy lawdy... He's usually the one who says "what're you lookin' at?" and "Are you talkin' to me?" Come to think of it, it's a whole slew of DeNiro and Pacino lines. Pretty pathetic, eh? I'm sure he'd go over great at Club Med...
Thazzz all folks, Derek (what's this cane doing around my neck?--oh, exit stage right, even!)
I've managed to sink into the Black Mood #98 abyss, it's so frustrating because I know full well that this is going to be a waste of what could be a fine evening. Let's just say I feel like I'm the human equivalent of the Southern Reconstruction after the Civil War. I got sober 7 years ago and it's been like dragging an anchor uphill. I completely forgot that the 30th was my sobriety "birthday", that's a telling sign of my mindset lately. Nothing like working off thousands of dollars in back child support payments, taxes, tickets and bills while trying to get some semblance of a"life" together. I know this is just an imaginary utopia oriented vision that us humans like to indulge in. Life has plateaus of accomplishments and various criteria for "success", for me to continue to chase the proverbial carrot on a stick of "arriving" is futile. I want to see perhaps some progress that is a little more rapid than grass growth. Not only is it like pissing in a dark suit-no one else seems to notice, including myself! I have purchased a camera for time lapse photos so I can see my credit card balances go down 20 bucks in three years. Suze Orman would be proud! I have to commend myself on some private victories, however, I've gotten some of them accomplished. I do want to jettison some of the demons, baggage and issues that continue to plague me. Anyone want to pick up a couple of them at half off? Hmmm, maybe I can sell some of the bad memories of my ex on ebay? Two demons, used, to good home-start the bidding at $5.00, "Buy It Now" at 19.99.
I've got another period of silence going on with her and my 13 year old son. I call and get her answering machine or no machine at all. I email them, I get no answers. My folks came to visit in July and my son flew down with his Grandma. His Grandpa flew in to town and we had a couple of fine days hanging out together. I believe a good time was had by all. It was really nice to spend some time with him, I don't see him nearly enough. He lives a thousand miles north in a town that you can only fly to. It's prohibitively expensive for me to fly up there very often. I wish he was a little more into my music, he seemed to be totally disinterested in hearing me play while he was here. Not that it's been a major part of my life or anything. Sometimes I have to admit I get resentful about it. I had a fairly nice career going in music before he came along, he wasn't exactly planned, he was more of a "surprise" I'm inclined to think that really went down was this was her attempt to "trap" me, even though at the time it was fairly obvious that we weren't going to make it as a couple. I guess I should be grateful that we were never married. After enduring over ten years of nasty phone calls etc. she's now been taking medication for her bi-polar disorder. I'd forgotten she'd been diagnosed as having it and was just a plain b**ch! I go to work and try to do the best I can, pay the bills and maintain some reasonable facsimile of happiness. So this whole experience of fatherhood has been a real rollercoaster ride, but my son is a good kid and I am proud of him. I wish we lived closer and tried to make that happen by getting my position back at my old gig years ago. So there is still pain and some resentment felt by everybody, it appears. "Leave it to Beaver" it isn't, just another complicated family situation
in the new millenium...
All I've been trying to do for the past 5 years is get my small studio together and it continues on. I wonder why I even bother sometimes, although digital recording gear is coming down in price, I'm still doing the po' boy blues scene. I just have to keep persevering. I had my own homestudio together in California and little did I know how long it would take to get one going up here in Alaska. Of course, that was due to the fact that I had no intention of becoming domestic and liked being a vagabond, traveling light. This is why I have the intense desire for the acoustic, can you truly be a vagabond without one?
For some reason, even though I'm basically used to being a recluse I've been experiencing crushing loneliness lately...Solitude can do a "quick change" routine and become "ye olde lonely".
"It's all perspective" says the gargoyle on my shoulder. "Bulls**t" says the one. I worry about this, isn't there supposed to be an angel and a devil perched somewhere? All I've got is one gargoyle in a white robe (why is it terrycloth?) and the other one in a black trench coat. Nothing appears to be on underneath. Lawdy lawdy... He's usually the one who says "what're you lookin' at?" and "Are you talkin' to me?" Come to think of it, it's a whole slew of DeNiro and Pacino lines. Pretty pathetic, eh? I'm sure he'd go over great at Club Med...
Thazzz all folks, Derek (what's this cane doing around my neck?--oh, exit stage right, even!)
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