Fuck, man. The one kid is sleeping. The other one is rotting his brain watching Yo Gabba Gabba and I’m here, blasting down the galactic nerdobahn with these few precious moments that I have. My birthday was a great time. Thanks to everyone who came out to Risque the other night for the celebration. I think it was pretty fun…and you? Did you have fun? Enjoy the cupcakes? The Malort? Good deal. Don’t say I never did anything for you ungrateful turds. Anyway…
I woke up yesterday with a bleary head and decided to get a cheeseburger. I’ve been eating ‘healthy’ for a while now, but on my birthday I decided to go for it. The girls at the cheeseburger place were super young and good looking and I felt OLD as shit sitting there bullshitting with them. I mean, I AM old. I’m probably a good twelve years older than these girls and (I was noticing) I’ve pretty much got the exact same job as them: working in a bar serving beer and burgers to assholes like me. There’s nothing like a little stocktaking with your morning birthday cheeseburger to make you feel like a real sack of crap, ya know? SO I fucked a couple of the girls in the walk-in cooler and went about my day, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being a bit of a loser for the life of me.
See, when I was in highschool I was already making money playing music. Through college my band went on little weekend jaunts every possible moment that I wasn’t in school and by the time I graduated it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that Chris and Neil and I would just go on tour and not get ‘jobs’ because, uh…wouldn’t you? I mean, faced with the notion of pounding the pavement for some shitty internship or getting paid to see the world and drink beer, which would you pick?
Yeah, so would I.
SO, there we were, on the road a good ten to thirteen months a year, getting to know the world in the way that you do when you spend one day in any given spot and move on. It was fairly easy for us to keep in touch with all our various friends who had moved away and were doing what at the time seemed like the most boring shit imaginable. We’d swoop into town, play a show, give our buddies free beer and talk about the tour and stagger out in the morning while they went to work and do it all again the next night in another town…Obviously I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but the point is, I’d see my working buddies and there was no doubt that I was having more fun, getting more out of livin’ and yadda yadda wocka wocka wocka than they were. I knew it, they knew it, and I felt so incredibly confident in the choices that had gotten us to that point that I didn’t really ever stop to think about what would happen when that shit slowed down for whatever reason.
Welllllllll, here we are. Shit has slowed down, and it’s weird because from what I can tell, our band is more popular than ever, but we’re old and that shit is a young man’s game and now, to borrow the parlance of our times “I ain’t got no job, and I ain’t got shit to do.” Nowadays I’m hustling like all my friends did twelve or thirteen years ago and they’re all embedded in careers and (presumably) pretty successful and happy and I’m behind a bar…I write a blog and host a tv show (those things don’t make me any money, btw) and I carry a two year old and a 3.5 month old around with me everywhere I go (those actually cost me money). It’s cool. I love the family part. I dig the blog part and the tv show part is insanely fun and challenging but I don’t really like the fact that I kind of fucked up in the ‘career’ section of things and now I’m old and weird and the only industry that I really have good connections in and that I’m versed in the ins and outs of seems to be going out of business. That part stinks.
Now, I’m not really trying to complain here. I would rather see the world in my 20’s than in my 60’s and I feel great about the legacy that I have so far as a musician (and the shit to come is gonna blow your dicks/vulvas back out through your assholes) but as I get a year older, there’s no two ways about it: I think about the ways I’ve fucked up and the time I wasted that I’ll never get back and it’s kind of a bummer.
Thank god I’m so fuckng good looking, right?