I try to stay focused when I write. I try to stay focused as I live, but herein lies the problem. It's not that I don't have things to write about, express or do, it's more that my brain is all over the place It's not a lack of subject but more a lack of edit. Often I can't sleep. Often I cannot focus as subjects and projects cloud my being in a way that frequently make me think I'm either genius or so psycho-analytical that I'm just a manic numb nut. I study other's efforts, failures, successes and daily routines in a manner that make me question my own trials in a way that someday's make me paralyzed in my own need to accomplish everything in a ten minute period just to prove that it's possible and that I "get it". I'm balanced by my failures and that I may possibly be a complete loser. I'm a 50- something old soul in a world of 30 is the new 20 wiz kid wanna be, techno-impressed, super entitled cookie cutter Chuckie Cheez public face time, can't spell a 3 syllable word without an Imogee, super athletic college scholar-shipped pharmaceutical rep, frat house cheerleader hair extension world. Jeez, deliver me from my own sanity. It's exactly why I am not allowed to breed or carry firearms. I would definitely be dangerous and beat my children into such Catholic submission that I would never escape prison by bypassing pergatory and going straight to my own personal Red Bull enhanced, Dorito dusted, sub-terrain parental basement living, on-line gamer hell.
Our problem is that we no longer do things. Create things. Build a better way. We live in a human resources microcosm that pats ourselves on our pedestrian bachelor degree back of managing other's time with a company manual of idiosyncratic, socially acceptable rule book of bull shit team effort. Everyone is included but no one is responsible. There is no "I" in team, but always a "u" in you've F@#*ed up and didn't fake your way through today's on-line special as if it matters to any one other than the 20 year veteran bus boy that is now the corporate tenured Jr. High dropout consultant that slept with the bosses first wife when the namesake was off a couple of decades before playing golf with the ex- football jock investor's balls .Am I cynical? Well probably, but atleast I can spell it and use it in a compound sentence with more than one comma and realize that fragments are frequently a matter of artistic expression. Ninja PLZ.
I'm weary of personal success often being preceded and/or accompanied by the use and abuse of others. I often wonder if it's even feasible to get ahead without screwing someone over for a percentage or bonus. We live in a world that seems to be "Trumped" by knowing when to buck up or drop out. If things aren't going our way, just release the ball and file bankruptcy. Divert attention. Place blame in lieu of taking it. Not to be political as the hill in Hillary is something that Bill didn't even want to climb during his "har-Monica" reign, but where does it end? Where is the bottom line? Who or what are we truly responsible for without taking on the weight of the world that for many is just too much to bear or bully through?
For me it's my home. My family and friends. My finances. My life. If we all just take care of what we can control on a small level, then the bigger things will tend to be more in line. In the same way that when a company takes care of it's employees, the workers take care of the business .if we car for our small section of the world the universe will in turn protect us. Maybe that's Polly-anic and mundane, but we must start somewhere. Here. Now. And, with my own heart and conscience is where I choose to begin.
Writing is a form of release for me. To share thought, ideas and more often than not my personal Carlin-esque-Lewis Black ridiculous take on our daily self seriousness. I can't escape it. It's my Zoloft. It's my AK-7 loaded up with Pez and silly string. It might hurt a bit if aimed right at your soft spot, but never kill ya.
Biting off more than I can chew is my method of operation. Shoot for the stars, and if you fall short, by the time you re-orbit the planet perhaps inhabited by a whole new generation that might just view you as a 1000 year old visionary or at least so disinterested that you can blend in at Starbucks for a $495 half caf vanilla pumpkin extra foam latte in an invisible no GMO perfectly biodegradable cup designed by last generations Kennedy offspring. They will be impressed that I remember his presidency and Marilyn Monroe's singing career.
Being overly ambitious hasn't always gotten the results that I would have wished.........., but I keep one foot in front of the other. The flip side of this is that I also require 24 hour work ethic from others. This is where Mack comes in.
I have expected far too much from one individual. Before we started this project I had an all cards on the table talk with he and his Father. I have known Joe and Catrena for the vast majority of my life and in no way wanted less than full approval, transparency and trust from the entire family so as not to have any hard feelings in the end. I knew I had something to offer a young budding artist and felt safe in a family history of hard work, ethic and well..........just good people. I was confident I was on the right track and have been proven right over and over again. Mack is a special young man and I have made a friend for life.
We began our conversation with the meat of the deal. There was much to be accomplished and it required someone with multiple talents, time and yet enough humility to listen and produce. We ended with Jello. Not the Bill Cosby kind, as it's lost a little of its flavor the past couple of years, but what it represents. It fills in all the gaps. I would be here to keep him financially afloat while working on this substantial task, yet allow for other projects that would come along for his ever building portfolio of work and bank account. I would be flexible if he would allow less than premium costs and headaches. This could be a unique financial and working opportunity that could work well for both of us. There's always room for Jello.
As I am rarely at a loss for enthusiasm in the inception of the climb, I have drowned.. I have failed miserably at times and worried during our conversation that I would be found out. Revealed as a 50 year old man that with just a couple of more classes in university would have given me a degree. A piece of paper that would have turned my professional life and finances in a far different, less physically demanding, and yes, more socially acceptable direction that to many had considered me the wiz kid in my youth. But life is a journey, and I needed roadblocks and obstacles as learning tools. I made left brain grades in school, but my analytical process is all right. I need to see things. I need to feel the process in my heart and see it in my head. I have exceptional EQ and work really hard at putting my senses into an analytical form that garners praise from left-brained alphas. I find flaws in tetras logic as it eliminates the human element. I am the love child of Spock and Shirley McClaine, and if you remember the Nimoy Vulcan was also half human. I am 3/4 screwed when taking an SAT, but 100% the last man standing in a sinking ship. I'm the only survivor in the zombie apocalypse that brought their own side dish and gravy.
Mack is a musician and felt a kin ship with that. An artist. I can work with that. I asked him after I pleaded my case and vision what his Dad had said about me before meeting me. Did he say I was a nut? A dreamer? A lost cause? And, to my teary eyed dismay was told that "Dad said that you are one of the smartest guys that he knows". Wether because I won the spelling bee multiple times in grade school, or just sucked at softball...........I felt redeemed.
I needed someone like me. A pragmatic thinker and doer with the heart and soul of a dreamer. I knew when I saw him that I found a gem. I knew when I talked to him, I had a treasure. I knew when I looked into his eyes and his soul that he would be part of my heart and try daily to be worthy of his respect and talents. He needed direction and praise and divert my own desire for success into his future. I will do my best to mentor him with my ups and downs and make him proud to be associated with my own personal "crazy".
Mack has a pretty impressive all around background. He has worked in flooring, tile, wiring and truly finds his love in cabinetry and custom built pieces. And, for a 27 year old, that's a formidable start for a general contractor. Me? I can iron myself into a "flat out" Bon Jovi tribute band and lay on enough bronzer and sealer to fake my way through perpetual 40-something. It may not get me another SBA loan, but YOU TRY IT. I got skills.
Fact is we are a good team. I'm more adept at many things than I pat myself on the back for, and he's more Hollywood than he would like to admit. We see eye to eye. We understand each other in a very unspoken way. He grounds me and I hope that I can give him a light- hearted hope that is often missing in our current serious-sided working youth. They are not all flagrantly entitled. Many are hard working, off the grid, concerned about our planet, leaders and building blocks of our futures. This is Mack. He is the beloved child of my child hood friends, but to me..................a good man, and our future is safe is his hands.
City Kitty love waits at the door for him and Hemingway follows him like a puppy-dog. Animals know a good soul. Just sayin'.