I don’t even know where to start. Oh wait, yes I do. Bird is home. He made it all the way to Swarthmore, and eventually some folks grabbed him and got him back home. Very cool.
Meanwhile, life sucks in nearly every way. A person can only listen to how horrible they are so much before it starts to take its toll, and I hit that point years ago, yet it still continues. In fact, it’s meaner, and more relentless than ever. I generally think of myself as a flawed, but good person, with good intentions. Apparently I come off as a complete failure. I’m a no good motherfucker that is a bad father and a bad everything else too. I don’t care enough, my priorities are all wrong, and I don’t know how to show my appreciation for the endless gifts of godlike kindness that are showered upon me each day. Lately I have been insulted in ways that cut pretty deep, despite the fact that these last years of my life have been a non-stop exercise in thickening my skin to such assaults. I’m on the verge of losing everything, which, if it weren’t for Darwin, might be acceptable. Not pleasant, but acceptable. Maybe. I’m being strong-armed into making sacrifices that I don’t feel comfortable making. I want to be accepted for who I am. Why is that asking too much?
And the band. Ooohh the fucking band… never without drama. Basically I still feel like I’m dragging people along. I thought I’d gotten rid of all that when I fired the whole fucking band! But of course, I didn’t fire the WHOLE band, which leaves Tom. He and Dave have become the whining ball and chain twins. No matter what the situation is, they don’t like it. A gig on the wrong day or the wrong time or in the wrong town. A band meeting in a place they don’t feel like going to… you name it, they will bitch about it. It just really kills my motivation. They need to decide if they’re all in or all out. ASAP.