“I have a face for radio.”
I heard that joke while trying to fit in the NYC music industry a lifetime ago. The joke was so amusing to me that it has found its way into my current life with the same fresh enthusiasm as which it first started. People have recently told me I should work the airwaves, and I have not hesitated to rip open the flavor seal on that line every time.
Like most comedy, its kernels of truth get stuck in teeth like the remnants of a movie popcorn bucket. My fleshy, dour visage often dominates conversations with twinges of unrelenting disillusionment and disbelief. That’s not TV personality material, nor is it the “good ol’ boy” behavior the average American requires to feel secure in their way of life. That is not happiness, not mine anyway. Happiness may be a frame of mind, but I have yet to find its craft gallery. I understand that is my own cross to bear, but do I not have the right to express it?
For several months, I’ve tried another avenue to grow and succeed. I don’t think anyone has to leave for a new location to change their current situation in life. However, when the chips are down, doesn’t it seem like a great option? Being the personality I am, I take my endeavors seriously and with such dedication and fervor that I could rip apart the mediocre with fiery assertions. The security blanket is flung off, and discomfort chills the body.
…but I’m effective, and that’s why I’m useful.
I also make great personal sacrifices to the ignorance of my associates. While not all of the story, this endeavor has chewed up time to compose new articles to post here. While a path that is wracked with obscurity, I can at least feel a modicum of accomplishment here. A lasting accomplishment.
So, as I sit here, fuming over my current resources (or lack thereof), I wonder what is worth anything. The spurned, desperately trying to avoid misanthropy and bitterness. Maybe it’s better to simply be self-interested and do what I please. Others around me have no qualms in doing such.
“I’m tired of this back-slappin’ ‘isn’t humanity neat’ bullshit. We’re a virus with shoes.” ~ Bill Hicks
Corvidae in the Fields 
Hey – been a while, and I’m glad to see you writing here again! *smile*
I’d like to get back to staring at a blank moleskine (mole skin) journal. It’s a little less stressful.
I hoped life would be treating you more kindly, but it is nonetheless good to hear from you again. I was once told that I had a face for radio, but not a voice for it. That really smarts. 😦
People are mean.
You can’t be fleshy and dour on a Saturday. You have clean water and indoor plumbing and lots of tools that make things.
I just finished a pedicure stage for the students a few weeks ago. Most of the tools were mine. I do have tools that make a lot of things.
Aw, I’ms sorry for the hard parts. I am glad to see you writing again; I’d worried some.
It’s not easy to balance this all out. Thank you for dropping in!
Hey man, I know I’m late to the party here, but I read this the day you posted it and have spent a lot of time thinking about you in the meantime. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Winter is a perfect time to visit the desert, by the way, and an excellent time to vacate Ohio.
I appreciate the offer. The funds don’t seem to be there, but I probably would if I could.
I would hi5yourface if I could only hear it over the static of this radio….
“Oho!” said the pot to the kettle;
“You are dirty and ugly and black!
Sure no one would think you were metal,
Except when you’re given a crack.”
“Not so! not so!” kettle said to the pot;
“‘Tis your own dirty image you see;
For I am so clean – without blemish or blot –
That your blackness is mirrored in me.”
—Maxwell’s Elementary Grammar, 1904
😉
Yes, but should the pot and kettle mingle they can see each other’s flaws clearly enough to wipe each other clean.
Check yer email, ya nut.