Sunday June 3rd, 2012 – Chicago, IL
I had a hot show tonight to close out my week at Zanies in Chicago, but unfortunately only 16 people were there to see it. There’s nothing I can do about that but give them my best, and that’s what I did – and they loved it. I’ve done lots of shows for small crowds before, so I’m used to it.
The better part of my life has been spent entertaining groups of people under 100, and as soon as the show is over so is the moment. The group disperses, and most of them wouldn’t remember me even under oath in a court of law. I didn’t record 99.9% of my shows so they’re gone forever.
This week is gone forever too. I’m totally grateful for the booking, but now I’m back to being a bum and I’m not thrilled about it. I don’t have anything paid on the books for the rest of June and that scares the hell out of me. I knew the summer would be slow, and it is. This isn’t what I need.
I’m not going to lie; I’m really in a deep dark funk right now. Nothing excites me, and I have a huge pile of problems that aren’t going away any time soon. Most of them involve a lack of cash, and it’s frustrating that I can’t seem to figure out a way to generate some income. I’m stumped as to what to do to make a legit buck. Crime is not my style, nor is a day job. What are my skills?
I can’t just walk into a grocery store or a car dealer and ask for a job. I have no resume to show anyone other than I’ve worked as a comedian and in radio since 1985. That’s it. I promoted some pro wrestling shows, but that was on my own. I didn’t work for anyone else. Am I employable?
It’s not that I’m not willing to work. At this point, a day job would probably be a lot less actual work than all the schemes and projects I’ve got going that aren’t paying a nickel. The fact is that I love those projects. ‘The Unshow’ podcast and ‘The Mothership Connection’ radio show are a blast to be a part of, and I’m feverishly working on ways to make them both pay at least a little.
The King of Uranus is also fun, but how do I get that to make money? I’m just pissing into the wind with most of this stuff, and I’m getting to the point I can’t afford to do that anymore or else I’ll be homeless very soon. We all have bills to pay, and I’m no exception. I need some income.
It feels like I am unplugged from the cosmic power source and drifting even farther off course. I can really use a break right about now, but can’t see one coming. I feel total overwhelm and my desire to live is quickly fading. If I could lie down peacefully and donate my organs to somebody who needs them, I’d cash out right now. What the hell am I wasting my time for? I’m hating life.
I’ve tried all I know how to do, but it all blows up in my face. Am I supposed to learn anything from all this? I’m looking for my lessons, but all I’m seeing is frustration and I don’t see a happy ending. I’ve always felt out of place and unwanted, but I really feel it now. I’m in a danger zone.
It’s easy for people to say ‘hang in there’ and ‘it’ll get better’, but no matter what I do it always comes back to this. I’ve been here before, and it’s getting old. I’m highly disappointed with life’s results, and the harder I try to change my circumstances the less it works. What do I do about this emptiness? I’ve seriously thought about swallowing a bullet, but I’m not a violent person. I don’t even own a gun, and don’t plan on getting one any time soon. I’m just trying to exist day to day.
I wish I knew what would turn it around. It’s certainly no fun to be in this mindset, and I didn’t choose to be in it. It’s obviously the result of a feeling of extreme disappointment, and it’s been a lifetime in the making. One can only push problems aside for so long, and then they need fixing.
How I’m going to fix mine are beyond my comprehension. I’m still hurting from my childhood in many ways, and try as I might I can’t get past all of it. Some of the ugly things have faded, but a lot of them haven’t. There’s a cold hard side of me that can’t feel love, and it really scares me.
The approval of an audience is wonderful, but it’s not love. I’ve said it before; it’s a methadone replacement for love. It doesn’t equal the real thing, even though it’s still nice. Performing has an addictive effect, but I’d bet my need to do it would fade if I was able to find a source of real love.
I’m not just talking about romantic love either. Sure, that would be fantastic but I can’t imagine what any woman could possibly see in me in my current condition. I’m drifting through life with no direction, and have been beaten up pretty badly by years of wandering. I feel like a lost dog.
I sure could use a little kindness from somewhere, but I have no idea where that somewhere is. I thought I was going somewhere all this time, but now it feels like I’m right back where I started with less than I had before. When I started I had hopes and dreams. Now I have cuts and bruises.
Too many years of taking too many direct hits have taken their toll. I’m all out of fight, and my tank is on empty. The mistakes I’ve made are haunting me, and try as I might I can’t seem to turn any of those ugly situations around. I’ve asked for forgiveness, but a lot of people have said no.
It crushes me that my siblings continue to blow me off, but there’s nothing more I can do there. I really meant it when I said I was sorry for whatever I did that made them angry, but they won’t even acknowledge my existence. That’s their right I guess, but it sure does make me feel like I’m rejected. I don’t know why it’s so important to me, but it is. And I’m not getting it. And it hurts.
The people in the business who have blown me off are equally as cruel. Bob and Tom were just plain mean to me, and there was no reason for it other than they could. They have power and can do what they want. I still don’t know what I did to piss them off that badly, but I did and I’m off their radar. That could have really been a sweet gig, and it should have. But it’s not. And it hurts.
I know other people have bad breaks too, but mine seem to have an unbelievable shelf life. I’ve tried to just move on, but there are so many fires burning everywhere in my life I can’t see where the damn road is anymore. I’m just tired and hurt and don’t know what my next move should be.
Is suicide the answer? It has been for a lot of people. It may not be the right one, but I sure see why they chose it. I just can’t see people doing it when they have small kids. I had a classmate’s father in school commit suicide when I was a kid and he left six children behind. That’s terrible.
I’m writing about this because it’s what I’m feeling. It’s better to get it out here than off myself and have people say “He was such a quiet guy.” I’ve tried my best, but that just hasn’t been good enough apparently. I don’t know what else to do. There are times when I feel bullet proof and am able to plow through anything life can throw in my path. This is not one of them. I feel so alone.
2 comments:
You're not alone. I know I'm just somebody you've never met who silently reads your blog, but in a small way I'm there with you.
I've had equally low points in my life -- I've been unemployed and relying on the kindness of friends for a place to sleep, was estranged from my children for a time -- and I was seriously considering killing myself. Not just considering actually, I made plans. The thought that I had no idea what was around the corner kept me from following through and boy am I glad. There have been many, many more ups and downs since that dark period, but I've somehow managed to get through it. Done some things to survive I wouldn't brag about, but all in all I'm proud of myself for hanging in there. I'm happy now and you can be, too. Love and happiness are choices... it comes from within, it's something we give ourselves.
As for being employable, you're an extraordinarily talented man. Having "comedian" on your resume could be an advantage. It would definitely set you apart.
I hope it all works out for you. Please don't give up. It sounds weird, I'm sure, but you matter to me.
Take care of yourself. Much love to you, Dobie.
I use to read your blog more when you still considered me a friend. We met when I was just 16 years young. As many times as our lives drifted apart we always seemed to drift back together again picking right back up where we left off. Then one day not so long ago I get a message from you. You were kicking me out of your life. I'm sure it hurt when I forgot your Birthday 2 years in a row, but not as much as it hurt me by you ending our lifelong friendship. I often think of you and wonder how you’re doing. I would imagine that one day you would seek out our friendship again and I would welcome you with open arms, just like always. But that someday never came. I put those thoughts far behind me. The only way I could cope with the loss of our friendship was to pretend you were dead. Then today, for no particular reason, you were heavy on my mind. I tried to push the memory of you out of my head like I had become accustom to doing, but I could not shake it. I could not help but peek at your blog today. After reading this blog I have come to the conclusion that you have already committed suicide. Selective suicide that is. You selectively end relationships and now all we have is a dead memory of a once cherished friend! Good bye my dearest Dobie.
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