Category: Stigma Fighters

100, Eliezer Tristan Publishing, Homies, Mental Health, Playlists, Poetry, Readings, Road Trip!, Stigma Fighters

So here’s what went down…(Part 1)

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https://www.instagram.com/p/BxqrygtBCdn/

Long time no see, folks! My bad…but it’s been a crazy couple of days and it’s time to fill y’all in on what’s been happenin’…

I tend to forget when I’m in this author blog that I’m also a Mental Health advocate. For some reason it never seems to get mentioned here, even though my publisher focuses on that. Let’s tie everything together today…buckle up, cuz it’s been a crazy ride.

On Friday, May 17th, Eliezer Tristan Publishing held a reading/book signing/Mental Health Seminar at a Barnes & Noble in Hartford, CT. A few of the presenters are from various parts of Connecticut; my publisher was coming from Portland, Oregon, another was coming from the Virginia area at the last minute, and I was taking a Greyhound in from the middle of New York state (I have to clarify it’s the state and not the city; an important distinction and you’ll find out why soon enough).

A couple days beforehand, our publisher determines she may need a small but possibly expensive miracle to make it. Commence widespread panic among the other attendees, spawning multiple Twitter conversations and separate Messenger threads about who’s gonna come in when and where, who’s gonna stay with who and where, and how we’re all supposed to pull this even off without her. I’m telling you this because it affected me directly…Sarah Fader (the CEO of ETP) and I were supposed to stay at an Air B&B barn in Fairfield (the first failure occurred when neither of us looked at a map to determine that Fairfield was nowhere close to where we were having the event and wasn’t near any of our online CT friends). This was a bit problematic.

Enter my new best friend ever, Stephanie Paige, who deserves a friggin’ Humanitarian Award of some sort for figuring half of our shit out. She was gonna pick me up at Union Station instead of me meeting up with Sarah, and was gonna let me stay with her for a night until we knew what was going on with more clarity.

Lemme tell ya, brothers and sisters: Clarity deserted us until the last fucking minute. Never rely on clarity, as that will fuck you in no way gently. You’re better off wingin’ it until it’s legit Go-Time!! and seeing what works and what doesn’t and adapting on the fly. I can’t tell you how many times the goalposts were moved before 7pm on Friday, and most of the time the goalposts we were kicking at were on a completely different field. To further illustrate, in all of the chaos and tweets and Messenger notifications, it was determined that Stephanie was going to meet me at Union Station. Sweet…one box checked; now let’s move on and get everyone else situated.

Now, by looking at a map (again, something we never considered doing), one can determine that Connecticut is a relatively small state. Why then, for the love of all things holy and sacred, does a tiny-ass fucking state like CT have not one, but two places travelers can be picked up that go by the identification of Union Station??

I was supposed to arrive around 7pm, but because New York motherfucking City is a disaster traffic-wise, I think I got in around 8. Not a problem; Stephanie was milling around the human rat puzzle known as IKEA. The IKEA in New Haven, right near Union Station. As I began rattling off places I was seeing while trippin’ down the freeway, it became abundantly clear that I was also heading toward Union Station…in Hartford. The Founding Fathers and City Planners in both Hartford and New Haven should be dug up from their graves so Stephanie and I can slap the shit outta ’em. So she’s going back home, and I’m gonna take a Lyft to her place. An unplanned expense.

I input all my info into the Lyft app and it quotes me $75. I take a deep breath, suck it up, and- holdupwaitaminute- I determine based on the app that I don’t think where I’m standing matches the address I’ve put in and what the map is telling me. I take a walk around the block, maybe 100 feet, to a bar on a corner with an address I know will be easier to find. Problem solved…and for some unknown reason, fate smiled down upon me and the price of the Lyft dropped down to $60. Fuck technology y’all…use your damn legs and save some of your hard-earned cash! That 100 feet of walking equals the price of my book! Thank me later when you’re telling me how much you enjoyed it.

Funny side note about the bar: When I walked in to ask for a proper address, right next to me was a man who looked familiar. He was a very good friend of mine about 20 years ago, and we had a ridiculous falling out over I don’t even know what the fuck, so I said his name. And I know he heard me, because I immediately recognized his mannerisms as he looked all around this tiny little bar everywhere but at me standing an arm’s length away. I walked out, chuckled to myself, and said “Fuck you, Chris Okal”. Of all the places to see someone though, right?

So anyway, I finally get to Stephanie’s place around 10-ish? And I’m not gonna lie (and this is what I love about true kick-ass cool people)…we picked up conversation like we’d known each other for, like, forever. No weirdness, stiffness, awkwardness. Just typical straight catchin’ up and figuring out what was goin’ on. After over probably an hour of talk we decided to go to bed (in separate rooms, mind you, ya filthpigs…that’s how rumors get started, and no one needs that). I went to put her WiFi password in my tablet, and right next to where I was standing, a paper caught my eye. A paper containing a typed-up list of several ways to legit get away with murder.

Turns out Stephanie is a True Crime fan and well, I’m here and she’s cool as hell, so I didn’t die and let’s just move on. This entry is already long enough and we’ve barely begun.

Meanwhile, Sarah has posted that she needs two grand to get a last-minute flight for her and her two small children. Before I go on, I need to stress that I love Sarah and she’s wonderful, so don’t misconstrue anything I say about her in a negative way. Every one of us is scrambling to retweet our pleas…it was like watching a fucking telethon on Twitter. Enter Tea Jay, who was instrumental in orchestrating donations to Sarah’s PayPal and ensuring her arrival at some point (and while you’re checking out Taylor [long for Tea], take a looksee at my guest post on her blog, Advice For Writers Who Want It, Or Don’t).

Sarah miraculously found not only a flight, but someone to watch her kids. We all laid our heads down for the night, eased by the knowledge our leader would indeed be present.

Then we woke up.

Stephanie managed to kick in a sizable chunk to the donation pot. I don’t remember what Sarah said when she called me around ten after eight in the morning, but all my sleepy ass knew was she was coming and renting a car. With going back to sleep not being an option, I laid in bed checking Twitter…and boom there’s Sarah, posing like a god damn 80’s rap star in front of this sick-ass vehicle. A bright-ass red Mini Cooper, all Bond…James Bondin’ on it like a pimp. I could not remember at first what kind of car it was; I just knew it was well beyond our pay grades and needs (and boy was I wrong, but you’ll find out why in a little bit…stick with me y’all). I, ummm, did not know how to break this to Stephanie. And then I did.

She thought it was a Fiat, which, hey, easy to mix up, right? All morning, “Red Fiat” was a term of endearment, an epitaph, and a functional source of several WTFs and confusion. Like, a red fucking ’93 Ford Tempo would’ve been sufficient. But hell no…let’s crash Hartford in mawfuggin’ style, yo. Combined with the fact that she flew into NYC (there’s that fuckin’ city again), let’s <insert my “moving the goalposts” metaphor here as well> and I’ll let you decide what to do with all of our eye-rolling wonderment about what exactly was going to happen in the ever-decreasing amount of time we were having. Was Sarah coming to Stephanie’s house? What time? What about everyone else? Sarah’s posting pics of her with her NYC friends in the pimpmobile rental. We still had to pick up Christa Marie somewhere…it’s all a jumbled blur of a blur at this point. One of the Union Stations in CT. Somehow we got her to take a shuttle or a train or a UFO or whatever to the only Union Station that matters, up in Hartford.

I don’t know if you’re confused, but I lived it and I’m still confused as fuck.

Anyway, Christa’s a sweet kid with a heart of gold. I think at one point Stephanie and I realized we’re old enough to have been her parents, and we’d have probably been shitty parents, but not nearly as bad as anything she’s lived through (but that’s her story to tell, and this is mine, so…whatevs, moving on). We scooped her up, said “Fuck it!” and told Sarah to just meet us at Barnes & Noble, and we chilled at Spot Coffee (holy shit, there’s a Spot in CT!! I thought that was a Buffalo thing!). That’s where Taylor was, and that’s where we told Katie to find us.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bxl2wa_JX7i/

I think I forgot to mention that Christa finally corralled all of us into one group chat thing on Messenger, which did make things a little easier…until things began to settle and the steam started letting off some and the sarcasm began to bleed out of our confused brains and souls. We eventually found Sarah at B&N, and mad props to my man Rick for hooking us up with water, comfort and ease, high-fiving me for getting his REM reference about the “end of the world” (I feel fine) and a giant adult-sized cardboard standup of The Cat In The Hat, to replace Aaron (the designer of my postcards and some of the ETP covers). Barnes & Noble, you need to pay that man well and make him your straight-up Events Coordinator or some shit; whatever you corporate-speak it.

Personally, after Sarah read the children’s book she co-wrote with her son, Nobody (which you should all buy if you have kids, and if you’re a teacher or parent of kids with special needs, hit me up and I’ll tell you how to get a copy), I read four poems from 100: “Over, under, around, and through.”, “Sinspiration”, something else because my Post-It page tabs have betrayed me in my travels and I can’t remember shit anymore, and “Black Joker”. All were received well, with chants for an encore. With everything else going on, I had no idea what I was going to read, let alone pick something else. To me, it wasn’t my event and it wasn’t about me…it was a Connecticut thing and it was meant to shine the light on these other wonderful authors, with their blogs turned into books and them just being more local to the area than me. I have my own CT stories, but that’s neither here nor there.

As for all of us, we’ve known of each other for quite awhile; some more than others and some through different events, but not this particular group, all together at the same time. Once the eyes of the crowd and the onlookers were upon us, you’d have thought we were sitcom stars holding a panel for the beginning of our 8th season…our rapport was flawless and fun and so easygoing. The way we all got along and got on and meshed with each other, there’s no way you could tell there was so much chaos and behind-the-scenes fuckery it took to get us all in the same place.

These people…I have all the respect in the world for them, and to have finally met and interacted with them, they’re amazing. We all came from different backgrounds with various Mental Health diagnoses, which maybe is our common denominator I guess, but this is my family. I love them all, I’m super proud of them, and I love that I can fuck around with them and be me and they can be themselves and we can (most importantly) share our stories and help people with our words and voices. We fought so damn hard for ourselves, and we still fight every day, but now we can bring the fight to the masses. I miss them, I miss going through what we all had to go through to be together, and I can’t wait to see them again. I know that the next time I’m feeling shitty about life or writing or just myself, I practically have a virtual library on the side of things I can look at and reminisce over and think fondly of and say “Hey, we all did that, together, because we’re amazing fucking people”. I mean that, from the bottom of my heart (when it’s not dead and soulless). And I hope over time you can enjoy them all as much as I have.

My biggest regret is that we didn’t get our hands on one of the B&N event posters. With all that extra empty green space on them, it hit me well after I’d finally gotten home that it would’ve been a great memento for Sarah if we’d all signed it and gave it to her. She brought us all together; without her, there’s no way I’d know that Stephanie and I are alike in so many ways, or that Christa is so sweet and earnest and like many of us at her age (OMG we’re ollllllld now), or that Taylor and her hubby Jonesy and their boy Jack are so much more fucking adorable in person, or that Katie is a stupid-great amount of fun and everything I thought she’d be and more based on reading her book (which, by the way, again…read everyone’s books, because you can learn so much about how the regular people in your lives function with various mental illnesses you’d never otherwise know they have). But back to the posters…that would’ve been so cool and amazing. Fader, we all love you.

With that, I’d like to draw this long-ass first part to a close, because it’s way too much and yet there’s still more. Preview: In Part 2, I’ll talk about what transpired after the gig, and the god damn mess that was my journey back to Cortland…from the dope #barnaf in Fairfield w/Fader, to the bus station journey in CT, sitting in NYC for a legit ungodly amount of time, and then eventually getting home at five-o-stupid-a-fucking-m after a shitty bus ride. When Seuss wrote Oh, The Places You’ll Go, I don’t think he ever envisioned any sort of traffic at all that wasn’t cartoonish. I’ve been to some places…and I won’t go back until they put a dome over them. But enough about that. Let’s jam to some “catching up” beats before I have a great home-cooked sandwich, alright? Aiiiiiight.

  • The Dave Clark Five, “Catch Us If You Can”
  • Elliott Smith, “Let’s Get Lost”
  • The Get Up Kids, “I’ll Catch You”
  • Blur, “Avoid The Traffic”
  • Pearl Jam, “I Believe In Miracles (live)” (Ramones cover)
  • The Beach Boys, “Catch A Wave”
  • New Found Glory, “You’ve Got A Friend In Pennsylvania”
  • Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, “We Call Upon The Author”
  • Public Enemy, “SOC MED Digital Heroin”
  • Busta Rhymes, “Do That Thing”
  • Wilco, “It’s Just That Simple”
  • Ours, “Medication”

Ok, that’s about all I have the patience for today. Sorry the playlist went a little skewed…music happens and if you don’t like it then you don’t like me. Stay tuned for Part 2, which’ll prolly come tomorrow afternoon and will be all kinds of differently entertaining than this might’ve been, if it was. In the meantime, rest up and stay kind to each other. You don’t know who’s going through what anymore…hell, I can barely keep up with myself some days. Peace, be on the lookout in your city for Christa Christa and the Full Force Cult Jam opening at corpse bride weddings for the Sarcastic Assholes as we perform our multi-platinum clusterfuck class-sick “Pour Some Moonshine On Me”, and this place is trying to close so let’s get outta here before they kick us out…just, uhhhh, I guess the apples are free, so take one on the way out. If they’re real.

100, Eliezer Tristan Publishing, Homies, Mental Health, Playlists, Poetry, Road Trip!, Stigma Fighters, support your locals

Surprises! Good times!

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Hey hey!! What’s up y’all? Just poppin’ in to share a bit of good news I’ve been slackin’ on. I’ve got some treats up my sleeve and I’m finally feeling comfortable and able to speak on them…

I’ve been asked to attend an Eliezer Tristan Publishing event on May 17th at the Barnes & Noble in W. Hartford…how dope is that? I get to meet some of the recently-published authors, hang out a bit with them, read a little from 100 for those in attendance, and hopefully sell/sign a few copies. And it’s worth noting that I have a history with Connecticut…I had an aunt that lived there and would fly my brother and I down every summer to stay for a week at her condo, until she died of cancer in the early 90’s. Her brother moved down there too at some point, and bought a small but cute little house, but he passed a few years ago and it was up to my mom, my brother, and I to clean out the place and get it ready to be sold (I don’t wanna go into detail, but it was a gory scene). And then I lost that same brother about 2-1/2 years ago. My head turns into a roller coaster rethinking all of these memories and details.

The point is: I’m seeking to recapture good Connecticut memories.

I don’t think that sounds unreasonable! I was going through and dealing with a lot of my own physical and MH-related shit at the time of my uncle’s passing. And I have so so so many great memories of my aunt, grandmother, and great aunt on road trips to CT. This time, however, will be different, and I’m proud and humbled to have been asked to be on the bill.

Now, lemme tell you about some of the other authors that I know’ll be along for the show. I honestly don’t know who is responsible and deserving of the headlining spot…I know it’s not me, because there are a few native CT’ers that are reading. So besides me, in no particular order…

That’s a lineup you can’t front on! I’m like the weakest link, the poetry guy who’s seen too much of the world’s ugliness and just bitches about it through free-verse…I don’t quite belong with these warriors (ok, maybe I’m selling myself a little bit short, having dealt with my own bullshit as far as MH goes). If you’re in the New England area, you should come! You’re gonna learn stuff, meet amazing people, and get signed copies of books that really mean something to you! May 17th, at the Blue Black Square B-to-the-and-to-the-mawfuggin’-N. Come get some!! 7-9pm!! Will we bring treats? I dunno. Maybe. Probably not, but that shouldn’t discourage you from coming anyway.

Speaking of which, what I need from a lot of all y’all is to buy some t-shirts and #NorbAF swag! Travelin’ ain’t cheap, and you know you’d look sweet-ass sweet in one of my t-shirts! When you’re done here, make sure you click on my shop so you can fill your Easter Baskets up with the incredibleness of signed books, t-shirts, pins & stickers, and more. Don’t be scared. It’s a shitty time to be alive in some respects, but there’s also been no better time in history to celebrate, stoke, and encourage the works of Creatives since we’ve (ok, most of us) have been alive and functioning.

Also, hey! I went to my local library today to pick up a book I reserved online and they were like “Hey, yeah, sorry we haven’t responded to you Facebook message yet, but we sent your book to our central processing location and they still have it, but we ordered another copy…are you still interested in having some event during April’s National Poetry Month?” Oh hell fucking yes, y’all! (I did not say that, as I am so much more publicly respectful.) Just waiting on the details.

And, speaking of appearances, my publisher is working on the B&N at the McKinley Mall for a reading or appearance of some sort. No details yet, but you know y’all will be the first to know! Can’t wait to have a sweet and proper homecoming where my mom can come by and my friends and family can get some signed books and we can hang out a little! Super excited about the possibility! Now I just need to set something up at the Buffalo & Erie County Public Library and I’ll feel all that much more legit. Let’s make something happen, BECPL!!

Ok, I think I’ve done what I set out to do. Let’s end this mumbo-jumbo with a playlist about talking and speaking and all that, so I can post this and take a nap, k?

  • Geto Boys, “Talkin’ Loud Ain’t Sayin’ Nothin'”
  • Wilco, “Speak Into The Rose”
  • Oasis, “Talk Tonight”
  • Beastie Boys, “Make Some Noise”
  • Finch, “Letters To You”
  • Jimmy Eat World, “What Would I Say To You Now”
  • John Lennon, “Nobody Told Me”
  • The Killers, “Somebody Told Me”
  • Geto Boys, “And My Word”
  • De La Soul, “Transmitting Live From Mars”
  • The Dave Clark Five, “Catch Us If You Can”

Alright you fun-ass people…I’ve got dinner goin’ and it’s about time I paid attention to it. You know I love all y’all, so please don’t hesitate to share this with your people (I know some of my people will, or at least I hope they do). Respect!

 

100, Eliezer Tristan Publishing, Getting Published, Holidays, Homies, Mental Health, Playlists, Poetry, Road Trip!, Stigma Fighters

Back Home: The Thanksgiving Edition

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Hey everyone! Hope you’ve had an enjoyable Thanksgiving holiday with friends, family, and loved ones…and you haven’t made life a living hell for them or the poor souls in retail on Black Friday (and having spent my entire life in customer service and retail management, believe me when I say there’s a special place in hell for you if you have). I got back this afternoon from a week at my mom’s back in Western New York, spending time with her and some friends, and while I’m thankful for being able to have done so, it’s also nice again to be back home where I can sleep in my own bed and get back into my routine here (until Christmas comes around next month and I’m back out on the road!).

And what a week it was! Both my beloved Sabres and Bills had some big wins. I spent some time with the homies down at Matty’s Pub, watching the UFC (or is it MMA? I have no clue. [Side note: Outside of a few highlight clips on SportsCenter, I’ve never seen UFC or MMA before…and I’m very clueless about it other than the general premise of watching two people beat the everlovin’ outta each other. So with those expectations and those only in mind, I was not disappointed.]). Matty’s Pub was also the venue of choice for Sunday’s Bills game (where there was also a brawl) but more importantly, this picture hung of my late brother who was a staple behind the basement bar until he passed two years and one week ago today.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bqnop9qH8mA/

Let’s see…what else? I had a run-in with the Subway at the Greyhound station in Syracuse because they made me a breakfast wrap they were incapable of ringing me out properly for, and after informing me I’d basically have to pay double for something other locations have made easily for me in the past and told me I couldn’t use my “Tokens” or whatever their loyalty program is now, got really shitty with me when I told them I didn’t want it (seriously, how much of a corporate hardship is it to slap steak/egg/cheese inside a sun-dried tomato wrap??)…and when I complained to their ownership group about it, got nothing more than an “Ooops, sorry about that, but we talked to the employees and it won’t happen again!”…uhhhh….ya damn right it won’t, cuz I have zero confidence now in your business practices and customer relations (especially when combined with your substandard food offerings in an area where my choices are Subway, Dunkin’, and the in-house bodega with no better selection than the vending machines). So yeah, that sucked.

But…mom and I took 2nd place in Pub Trivia (thanks to a colossal tie after the final question that necessitated a wild stab at the overtime question) on the quote-unquote Biggest Party Night Of The Year. After dinner some of my brother’s friends (ok, I can stop calling them that, because they’re my friends too now) came out for karaoke, where things proceeded to get loud and rambunctious (of course). [Side Note: This is the same place my brother took me to for my 40th birthday, where a very Crown-and Coke’d me vociferously complained about the karaoke DJ not having any Beastie Boys songs in his catalog.] While I am proud to announce that the DJ has made tremendous strides in his offerings, I cannot say with the same enthusiasm that my performance Wednesday night was as exciting.

But hey, fun is fun, am I right? My only regret is that I didn’t get a recording of me doing “Sabotage” also, where my boy said, and I quote, “You’re scaring people.”

Thanksgiving itself was low-key…just mom and I and some turkey and her stuffing (my favorite, and if you say anything other than stuffing in general is your idea of “the best part of Thanksgiving Dinner”, then you’re a cop) and football and me on the couch in my pajamas from morning ’til night. It’s hands-down my favorite meal of the year, along with Second Thanksgiving (the midnight raiding of the leftovers). And Friday was pretty low-key as well, or at least it was until I was tagged in a Facebook post from my publisher announcing the arrival of the Stigma Fighters Anthology Vol. 4 launch on Amazon…which she says is dedicated to me (!!) and not only includes my very first online submission for them, but also three poems that aren’t in 100. How #NorbAF and #dopeAF is that??

And hey, it’s not just me that’s in this amazing collection…I’ve met and/or became friends with quite a few of these people in a very busy and incredible 2018 so far, and it’s worth much more than your time to check out their stories and how we’re all trying to do our part in combating the stigmas surrounding various mental illnesses.

So yeah, it’s been a week y’all! I’m so thankful to have so many exceptional and amazing people in all the many facets of my life who care about me and do beautiful things and kick so much more ass than they even know. For that, I think it’s time to bang out a good ol’ Thanks and I love you playlist! Hit it!!

  • The Tragically Hip, “Courage (For Hugh MacLennan)”
  • Filter, “The Best Things”
  • The Get Up Kids, “Holiday”
  • Mike Doughty, “Thank You, Lord, For Sending Me The F Train”
  • Death Cab For Cutie, “Autumn Love”
  • Franz Ferdinand, “Come On Home”
  • The Killers, “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town”
  • Uncle Tupelo, “I Got Drunk”
  • Hey Mercedes, “Our Weekend Starts On Wednesday”
  • The Black Keys feat. RZA, “The Baddest Man Alive”
  • Hail Mary Mallon, “Grubstake”
  • The Hollies, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”

I understand this playlist may mean very little to you, but it means a lot to me and that’s kinda what counts…my blog, my rules! Anyway, that’s where I’m at…I’m off to take advantage of a couple Writing.com Cyber Monday deals and say what’s up to some friends there. Hope you’re all well, and if not you know where to find me. Much love, friends!

100, Eliezer Tristan Publishing, Homies, Mental Health, Playlists, Poetry, Road Trip!, Stigma Fighters

Home is the new home.

fivesixer

What is UP y’all? Finally back home and spent a night in my own bed for the first time in what feels like forever. I’ve been gone so long that I forgot the channel number of some of the stations I put on for background noise while I’m doing other things…it’s hard to think and get back into a routine when you’ve been all over the country. I guess I’ve said this already (mostly), but this is what my itinerary was for the last 2+ weeks:

  • Cortland -> Syracuse, by bus
  • Syracuse -> Chicago (layover), by plane
  • Chicago -> Portland, OR, by plane
  • Portland -> Seattle, by car
  • Seattle -> Indianapolis, by plane
  • Indy -> Atlanta (layover), by plane
  • Atlanta -> Syracuse, by plane
  • ‘Cuse back home to Cortland, by Lyft

And my body’s exhausted even after crashing once I saw my bed. Good thing I leave a clean house when I travel, so I don’t have to wade through nonsense before I drop. Kinda not happy with myself now though for scheduling a visit with the therapist not even 24 hours after I was due back, but I know I’m a horrible scheduler and I’m trying to get better at it…but that’s another post for another time, my friends.

All I’m gonna say is that I’ve had a blast the last two weeks…being to places I’ve never been to before, eating at different restaurants that aren’t available in my areas locally, meeting and spending time with people I’ve known for years and years because of the internet and picking up just like long-lost friends doin’ their thang-thangs like they always do, and experiencing life in ways I haven’t in so long and/or ways I’d never thought of and may not be ever able to accomplish again. It was much-needed for my soul and my psyche…validation is a hell of a drug!

So now what? Besides remembering what channel ESPN is on and finishing unpacking like the procrastinating wad of jumbled genius brain cables I sometimes become)…I’ve still got some work to do. The hustler never quits on himself, so I’ve lined up a few appearances as a guest blogger and featured author on a few sites, as well as a podcast and more. I can’t give away the store y’all…you’ll just hafta keep posted and pay attention to this kid as he does his thing with the breaks he’s been given and the cracks he got to spring from. It’s gonna be a work week at home, finally, because I feel like I did more work on the West Coast and in Indy than I did the month prior (but to be fair, that month I was gearing up for this trip and allowed myself some unprecedented openness and accountability in my life for a change). Now, I gotta keep the train a-rollin’ while I still have some momentum, and prepare myself for a slowdown of sorts just in case. At least I have something (and many things really, like new friends with similar thoughts/feelings/outlooks/diagnoses) tangible from this chapter of my life where I can say that if it all goes away, this time I own more positive memories and experiences than typical relationships. Every memory is embedded without judgement or shame, and each detail has given me more strength and courage to push forward. How many of you can say the same after a string of broken relationships, ugly losses, or a life that felt overall like bad luck was your hair goo? This is something that can’t and won’t go away, and you want to keep…like a dope tattoo of a time in your life, on your life.

There’s also this, which I’m flat-fuck stoked about:

https://www.instagram.com/p/BoKN50mA3Zx/

You wanna signed book? Come get one here, from my website. There are both US and International shipping options, in case you forgot or were wondering.

So yeah, that’s what’s up. Let’s break into a home-themed playlist before I wreck some microwaved food and hit another stellar nap on my own terms, shall we? And if you’re not down with the selections, I suggest you start your own blog not to hate on me, but to show us your variety and eclectic tuneology. I won’t fight you, and I won’t judge you (even if it’s horrible). You tried, and for that I can thank you immensely enough. Rock your own dance party from time to time. Let it all out!

  • Atmosphere, “Always Coming Back Home To You (+ ‘Say Shh’)”
  • Supertramp, “Breakfast In America”
  • The New Amsterdams, “Hover Near Fame”
  • Motley Crue, “Home Sweet Home”
  • Mother Love Bone, “This Is Shangrila”
  • Herman’s Hermits, “I’m Into Something Good”
  • Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Castles Made Of Sand (Jimi Hendrix cover)”
  • Nirvana, “Come As You Are”
  • Madness, “Our House”
  • Moby, “Now I Let It Go”
  • Blur, “Country House”
  • Blink-182, “This Is Home”

Let’s celebrate your home…if you got a roof over your head and the means to keep it, throw your hands up. If home means something entirely different than what you thought when you were a kid, throw them hands up. If home means your family now isn’t your real family, keep them damn hands up. And if home is in your heart, keep your hands to yourselves but put your arms around the people closest to you. Home doesn’t hafta be where you grew up, where you live now, or what you’re even imagining. Home is what you make it. Get settled and find a routine. Your life is your home, even if there ain’t no November turkeys (my favorite holiday, BTW) or Santa Clauses flyin’ around. Work on that, please…while I work on either more tidying up or a nap. My naps in Indy were few and far between, and in Seattle I barely took any (‘cept for that one morning, after walking around like a sodomized penguin). After visiting a few airports, I’ve come to the conclusion that all y’all need to chill in public or GTFO. Jus’ sayin’. Tourists do NOT give a fuck about you and your circle. We’ve got enough on our minds as it is (I’m lookin’ at you and your way too crowded and confined airport). Ok…mini-rant over.

Anyway, thanks for bein’ here and checkin’ this out today…time to get busy! Peace!

100, Mental Health, Playlists, Poetry, Stigma Fighters

Let’s keep this machine goin’!

fivesixer

Hey! How are all of you doin’ today? I know (again) it’s been awhile…but I’ve been busy, and I’ve got the receipts to prove it!

Just a couple days ago, I wrote an article about my dealings with Fibromyalgia for Stigma Fighters that’s received an excellent response so far, My Roadmap To Fibromyalgia: Everything or Nothing; and sometimes both. Please take a look-see and feel free to share it with anyone else who’s living with this…spreading and sharing information is one of the best ways we have right now to not only combat this, but feel comfort.

Yesterday, I recorded a short promo clip for Eliezer Tristan Publishing in the hopes that they can find sponsors for our launch party in September, as well as investors to take the company to the next level and signal boost the messages to a bigger, wider audience. I just wanted to bang it out in one take, but as I started talking and saying what I really wanted to say, I looked down at the timer on my laptop’s recorder and I was well over 30 seconds yet halfway through the whole thing I’d been playing over in my head for hours. I guess not only do I think too much and babble on sometimes when I write, but I also take too long to say what needs to be said (especially under the duress of a timer).

And today, I took the bold step of adding two more videos to the ever-growing cult of 100…the first is a combination of two poems that really mean a lot to me. They were written shortly after my brother’s suicide at the age of 39, almost two years ago. I’ve written more about it since, but Sinspiration and Cometosis were a couple of the first I was able to do while still processing the grief and helping out mom handle his affairs, left-behinds, and the overall overwhelmingness of it all. It honestly took me some time before I was able to start processing it, let alone get the ability to start writing about it.

Unsure of what I wanted to record next (because I was totally into the mindset of recording), I flipped around and found one of the first ones I truly liked as I was beginning to get fully involved in the process of writing this “Give It 100” project. Not only was it one of my early favorites, but it was fairly well-received when I added it to my portfolio on Writing.com as part of the project. It’s called Major Bomb, and I remember entering it in my local library’s “National Poetry Month” contest…it lost to a very blah, cheerleading “yay America” flag piece that I guess the townsfolk here are all up into instead of my antithesis of that. But I’m not bitter about it…wellllll…no, I’m not. I’ve already gotten my validation several times over.

So that’s where I’ve been lately, friends and lovers and haters and everyone in-between. Once I get the motor runnin’ it doesn’t stop til I drop. Whaddya say we dip into a machine-oriented playlist, in hopes of keepin’ the gears turnin’ through my West Coast jaunt? And if you want me to show up in your city, drop a line…I’m still in the planning phase and and after the ETP launch party and my Seattle visit, I’m open!

  1. Rage Against The Machine, “Bulls On Parade”
  2. Pink Floyd, “Welcome To The Machine”
  3. The Tragically Hip, “Man Machine Poem”
  4. The Beatles, “The Long And Winding Road”
  5. Sponge, “Miles”
  6. Queens of the Stone Age, “…Like Clockwork”
  7. Soundgarden, “Never The Machine Forever”
  8. Regina Spektor, “Riot Gear”
  9. Bush, “Warm Machine”
  10. Radiohead, “Paranoid Android”
  11. Pixies, “Bone Machine”
  12. Our Lady Peace, “In Repair”

Alright y’all…you’re flush with my life up to today. Hope it makes you as happy as it’s made me over the course of a long time coming. Thanks for listenin’, and don’t forget to listen to others and take care of yourselves. Peace!