Eh Barney Fife, You Can Fuck Off, You Little Bitch

For most of my adult life, I took risks, I took every opportunity possible, I got good at something, I showed respect, unless given a reason not to, and in general, I went for it.  Most things didn’t work out, I ended up playing in cities and towns all over the U.S., a few places in England, and one place in Peru (of all places).  There were times when I felt I was at the end of a rope, ready to take a fall into the depths of where I couldn’t begin to imagine.  The funny part of all this is that in every dire situation, some idea or perceived opportunity would appear out of nowhere – giving me some ray of light, thinking that maybe if I take this opportunity, that magically this would be the time that I finally get my shot.  This has happened hundreds of times.  As I’m sure I’ve said here more than a few times, I’ve always felt like I was being watched, controlled, screwed with, manipulated, and exploited – for other people’s benefit, and for some unknown entity’s amusement.  Sometimes I believe I’m some kind of social experiment.  The Pop Psychology Crowd would likely say that I have some kind of “Delusions Of Grandeur” complex, and/or a “Persecution Complex”.  Well, in my case, bullshit – no one person can have this many crappy things happen without somebody or something causing them to happen.  It’s not like I spent my life drunk, stoned, lazy, inactive, risk free, or partaking in any illicit or stupid behavior.  I never smoked, never did any kind of drugs, never drank, never spend money frivolously, and I even made decent money playing music for the most part.  I’m not an overly dimwitted person, I’m not exactly street smart, but I’m not dumb, either.  My worst crime is that I’m too trusting.  All that being said, I often wonder how the hell I ended up in such a ridiculously horrid situation – or situations.  I’ve been putting up with self serving, manipulative, bullying asses for no less than the past five years.  These are people who pretended to want to help me, but actually only wanted something for themselves.  There was one guy who it appears actually did want to help me, but his psychotic wife was bound and determined to get me as far away from her husband’s house and life as humanly possible – AND, if I mentioned some of the horrible things she did to me, you probably wouldn’t believe it.  Five scorned women over the five years, even though I always told all of them right up front that I was not going to date anybody.  Then there’s the pathologically angry, resentful, delusional one who has the worst case of a Superiority Complex, and the worst case of denial I’ve ever seen, and who bases everything (and I mean EVERYTHING)  on the almighty dollar – as if she were hurting for money (which she is very much not).  I’m gonna do something that the Pop Psychology Crowd SO hates – I’m going to do, “I would never do this or that”.  That’s right, if it were me who had money, but no interests, no hobby, no goals, and was just sitting around waiting to die, I would be beyond happy to support my artist girlfriend’s interest – provided she was serious, and had some amount of ability for it.  My point is not to list all these people’s crappy things that they did, my point is that since my way of making a living has been taken away – by no doing of my own, I have been treated like a piece of trash that you toss in the dumpster, I’ve been bullied beyond belief, and there is not a damn thing I’ve been able to do about it.  Besides the horrid living situations, I’ve also been homeless.  At the places I play, some of the customers have no problem walking up to me and trying to knock me down a peg or two – using any and all kinds of bullshit ammunition they can muster up.  For the record, I’ve never doubted me or my abilities – I am fully aware of my virtues, my abilities, my strong suits, and my shortcomings, and I’m perfectly ok with all of it.

I digress.  At this moment, while things are more dire (for me) than they’ve ever been, another couple of ideas came flying in out of left field – causing me to instinctively think that maybe there some way of climbing out of this gaping hole that I’ve been in for way too long.  They came to me by way of media – media that it’s well known (by anyone who has been observing me for any length of time) that I witness most every day.  I think that by now I should know better – that this crap is nothing more than a distraction, a way of manipulating me into hanging on for just a little while longer – because whoever is orchestrating this B.S. is not done being amused by it all, or maybe the experiment is not finished.  Whatever the case, I’m pretty damn tired, and I might just say the hell with it before too long.  The music business is gone, the days when talent, ability, and hard work paid off at least some of the time, are gone.  I also think I may just be too old to be on a stage.  I don’t look quite like an old guy, but it’s also obvious I’m no kid, either.

So, while I do my damnedest to bite my tongue, and avoid any kind of confrontation that will very likely get me thrown out into the street, I also get more and more tired and disgusted with life, people, and my endlessly bizarre situations.  One thing for sure, should I get tossed out of here, I will not give the universe the pleasure of seeing me grovel and starve out there, and I will be happy to first tell the universe to fuck off, then sign out for the last time.