I guess that's the
true test of an artist: how long you let yourself be
happy before the flogging starts back up again.
All-time record of 2 years for me. Which makes me less
of an artist than I was in the last decade by a
large margin.
And goddamn I'm
grateful for that. Ahem.
Yes, thanks to an
investment in IMAX stock from 2008 taking care of that
pesky "money" issue for a few years, finding a
blissful relationship and then becoming a construction
worker for the better part of a year to prepare for
the baby... I have happily been able to avoid
EVERYTHING. It's just, been, glorious. And I do
mean glorious. To say that there is no happiness in
"the fight" for me, is to say the absolute least about
it.
Now of course,
investment is running out (not exactly now, but soon)
and I have to recreate who I am to sell it to
someone to make an income. The skillset
I come from is an embarrassment of riches which
I will not bemoan to the public as I am
indeed fortunate, but it's that other
background that actually keeps me from getting a
job. Of course I have to lie on resumes. Duh. I
can't show the work I did at CBS or with the Comedy
Central Pilot and expect to land an office gig. It's
bad enough people out here have to deal with "up &
comers" who leave them high and dry, someone who
actually worked above the line for a network? Fuck
that. They feel they will be left, and yes they would
be, if another TV gig presented
itself.
So then, your mind
wonders to that possibility that you could ever really
get back in "the game" as it were... and you have a
hard time going there. It's so painful, you just put
it off. Also, you're not that guy anymore. And you may
have honestly stretched "that guy" out a few
years longer than you really were him - losing damn
near everything in the process. So, for the first time
in a year, you write a song, you edit all of the
second season of The Egos together and show it to your
wife who you'll certainly need support from if you are
to attempt this and while taking care of your
baby you travel back and forth between two
realities that can literally split you in half. This
is the same song from the last entry, but acutely more
painful when I plop it in the midst of my life right
now.
Talya doesn't even
know the Adam that did all that stuff. That terrifies
me. My kid will never see me successful on that level?
Scares the crap out of me. Now I get what Jordan
said in some random interview when he played for the
Wizards. "My kids are old enough to understand that
I'm playing in the NBA now." I thought that was a
bizarre statement at the time, 'cause he's Michael
Jordan, his deeds will live on forever... but it's
something about your kid seeing it with their own
eyes. Your WIFE seeing it with her own eyes. It's
so important.... so again, you're split in half. Back
to a 3rd person description of how this
feels...
Frazzled, you come
back to The Journey for answers. You start reading
those entries and feel so acutely how painful it was.
You are angry with just how much better each epsiode
got throughout that summer only to be erased because
your boss was fired. Content was not king,
association was. So now where are you? Older, far less
motivated, and frankly? Deliriously happy taking care
of your kid. Like, happier than you understood
possible at sharing every second you can with that
baby. So, back into a new entry you dive praying that
if you type fast enough, the answers will
come.
That maybe by the
last paragraph you'll have it figured out.
That maybe if you
keep starting new paragraphs that this will be
the one.
The truth is?
Every day? You're actually doing exactly what you need
to be doing. You look back and start counting the
years since your last "success" and you get antsy
and then want to start paddling. That's silly. Pay
more attention? Sure. Steer things a bit? Sure. But
that's all this entry is going to give you brother. A
tiny peek into your soul. A hint of restlessness that
will make you meet with the vlogging documentarian
again. Make you remember the avenues still open to
you. You've been insulated in a cocoon of utter joy
that most people never get out of. And to be honest?
You very well may not either...
...something tells
me however, that it really does mean something that
your family knows that it's still a part of you. So
put out there. Start schemin'. It's
time...
