I remember sitting at the spotlight down the street from the house I live in. I haven’t lived there long; just since the beginning of the month, so the street light and the route to get to the places I normally go are all new to me now. It’s not a significant change, but it’s still odd to have to adjust to these things.
Because of this, I find myself sitting at spotlight that normally isn’t important to me at all, waiting to turn right onto a busy street that will take me to my regular places. And I keep waiting, because I pulled up to the stoplight, which was red, and looked at the intersecting cars, waiting on them to move through and perhaps for a chance to sneak in with all of the others who were going where I wanted to be going. Only, nobody was moving. Continue reading “The Light Is Green”
When what you hold dear
Starts to disappear
You can tell what you trust
By the things that you fear
You can look for me baby,
But baby I’ll be long gone
- Fiction Family, “Look For Me Baby”
Maybe things should be simpler. Does it always have to be so difficult to be an adult? Bills keep coming in and demanding the resources that you’ve traded in so much of your time, your very existence, in order to acquire. Surely life could be different than this, and if not, at least it could be simpler. Continue reading “Spring Cleaning In September”
The timer on an eBay auction can be my worst enemy. It sits there, saying “You’re almost out of time!” as if whatever item is available will never be seen anywhere ever again. This is the key to the promised land, and if you miss it now, you will regret it. And it’s really funny how frequently I buy into that idea and feel that regret. It’s a trap for me; one that I slip into all the time.
It’s because I don’t know what to do with regret. If I’m going to be honest here, and if I’m going to continue writing this post with wherever it might end up, I have to admit my biggest fear in the world. And no, my biggest fear is not having to call a stranger on the phone or a surprise cockroach charging me, even though those things cause me the greatest amounts of anxiety.
I am terrified of looking back years from now and realizing I misused my time. Terrified that when I’m gone, I’ll leave no trace of who I was. Continue reading “Leave A Trace (Or, I Have ADHD And Apparently I Love The Feeling Of Being Overwhelmed)”
I met John years ago in what feels now like a totally different life. He was an experienced disk jockey at the classic rock radio station, and I was a part-time employee and college student. He had dedicated a great deal of his life to making it in this business, and I was wondering whether I even cared enough to try.
If I learned anything from my brief time working in radio, it was that you had to be married to the job in every sort of way in order to make it anywhere. My time certainly was brief. Just barely over a year as a paid intern and part-time weekend shift kid before they told me via email that they were having to do away with all us little people. Downsized via email. Odd experience.
The job took dedication that I didn’t have. A lot of the people who worked for years in the business to have a stable career didn’t have what most could consider a stable life outside of it. At least, the ones I interacted with were like that. Granted, they were often the ones at the classic rock part of the studio, so it could very well be that the ones working in oldies and news had more going for them. I didn’t know them as well. Continue reading “John”
These days it seems as though a lot of my writing ideas come from conversations with others that cause me to think about things I might not have thought about before. Or maybe to view it in a different way than I have in the past. Not an amazing concept, I realize, since people seeing things from a different perspective is sort of how life works.
A particular conversation I had in the past week was with a guitar playing friend of mine. He had always been a guitarist, and we met when he was in school and was studying guitar. In recent years, he had relocated to a part of the country that bred more songwriters and he was expanding into the full art of songwriting. Basically, uncharted territory for himself.
Why do that? Why branch out from what you have done for your whole life? Well, simple: because doing the work well is worth it. The finished product is a nice result, but perhaps too much focus is placed on it. Michelangelo had a fine résumé built for himself before he was commissioned for the Sistine Chapel. The grand masterpiece doesn’t happen overnight, and without his early work, he doesn’t get the recognition, and therefore Sistine goes elsewhere. Continue reading “Doing The Work Well Is Worth It (Or, I Started This Blog Four Years Ago Today And I’m Fine With Not Having Anything To Show For It)”
Do you know how to clean a coffee maker? With vinegar.
I wasn’t aware of this until recently. Actually, until recently I had never owned a coffee maker. They intimidate me because I always put the wrong amount of coffee grounds and water in so it’s either too strong or not strong enough and never quite where it should be. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, not that any of that matters. Continue reading “A Stinky Process (Or, There’s A Metaphor In There Somewhere….)”