Yet Another “New” Start.

Last week I started a new job.  Not that I didn’t enjoy my last one – I very much did – but I simply couldn’t live on what I was making.  No shade directed at the former boss/company, I was paid well for what I was doing, it was just that what I was doing didn’t have the same value as my old job(s).  The 16 months, give or take, of working a low pressure job was considerably more valuable than the paycheck, but the reality of the situation is that I had no other choice than to get back doing what I do and pull in some additional coin to keep the head above water.  My savings is gone, my precious metals sold off, I’m trying desperately to sell off as much musical gear as possible and the wolves are at the door, so to speak.  And so here we are…

I’m back in a Director position, running a very large, and very high end property.   Thankfully though, I’m no longer in a “Healthcare adjacent” position with mountains of regulations and regulators, and no longer catering to the whims of obscenely wealthy senior citizens.   A welcome change, to be sure.  Not that this new gig is gonna be easy.  I’ve got several months of heavy lifting ahead of me to get this place back in shape.

I’m still in no position to pick up and prioritize the blog here, just dropping this in to keep track of my life as time flies and memories get cloudy…

I am extremely grateful for the new opportunity this job provides, but the personal side of things is very much in shambles still.  The struggle is real, as the kids say.  The last 5 years had me ground down to a nub.  Mentally I have not been “right” for some time, which caused a severe withdrawal from living life.  I’ve tried covering it up, the old “fake it til you make it” routine.  Throwing band-aids on the situation, like concerts and trips and playing in a band…  all those things I thought would “fix” the situation.   They did not.  All I did was distract myself from the real issues, which were left to fester and infect every other aspect of my life.  I buried my head in the sand and soothed myself with “this too, shall pass”, but it didn’t pass.  I was doing nothing more than kicking the can down the road. I let things go from bad to worse, to even worse than that.  I saw rock bottom fast approaching and just kept throwing band-aids on rather than pulling the ‘chute until I crashed head first into rock bottom. 

Don’t get me wrong, I know things *could* be worse.  I’m still on the right side of the dirt, I still have all my limbs and I’m not relying on machines or pills to keep me alive.  I know there are a lot of people out there worse off than me that didn’t just land a great new job.  I’m trying (struggling, honestly) to be grateful for what I do have, to keep my chin up, to climb out of the pit of despair I dug for myself, to keep putting one foot in front of the other ’til I get to where I need to be.  It is exhausting and it is bringing every weakness I possess to the forefront.  

This is what happens to a man with no direction in life.  I chose the path of least resistance, tried to not make waves, to go along to get along and be satisfied with whatever life sent my way.  This has proven to be absolute folly on my part.  Turns out the path of least resistance is in no way the path of NO resistance, I just let life choose my path rather than forging the path I wanted for myself.  I didn’t design my life, I took what was handed to me and tried to make the best of it.  Well, that was a lousy plan and I’m currently paying a hefty price for it.

I find myself at an age where I should be secure, where I should feel good about my accomplishments in life, where I should be a pillar of strength for my family, my friends, my community.   I’m none of those things at the moment. 

In a way I feel like I’m starting over.  Which at 57 is NOT where I wanted to be.  In a lot of ways it’s worse than when you’re just starting out as there is so much baggage to be carried and sorted out along the way.  So many bad habits to correct,  so many things to make up for.  And so little time left…

There was a quote I read some 3 decades ago, that became my mantra: “It’s never too late to become what you might have been.”  I FIRMLY believed that.  I had it hung up on my office wall for years.  It kept me going through years of ups and downs, it was my shining beacon of hope.  But the reality of it is, it IS too late to accomplish many of the things I wanted to do in life.  It has been extremely difficult to accept that I “peaked” in my mid-20’s and I’ve just been (barely) treading water for the last 30 years.  That when faced with struggle and hardship, I resigned myself to just accept what was and not try harder.  Things will work out,  I constantly told myself.

Once upon a time I knew – didn’t think, KNEW – that I’d be a renowned drummer one day.  I wasn’t after fame, but I wanted to be respected for my abilities in that world.  I wanted kids to hear my playing and be inspired in the same way I was hearing all those heavy hitters from my early days.  I put in untold hours practicing, over decades, I studied the greats, I developed a style completely unto myself, I put everything I had into it.  I was good.  Really good.  I wanted to discover unknown bands and produce their records, have my own recording studio, maybe even open my own nightclub to help bring new music to world.  I once had a dear friend tell a new acquaintance “If you could invest in bands like they were a startup, this guy (me) would make you rich!” I have an “ear” for the next-big-thing…  What I got was a failed record deal, a series of boring cover bands that provided ZERO artistic satisfaction,  a handful of students I taught and a whole lot of heartbreak and bitterness.  And while I still play, my skill level is maybe 60% of what it was when I was truly dedicated to the craft.  Now instead of really good, I’m just OK.  And considering drumming is the thing I’ve absolutely been best at in my life, what my entire identity was formed around, I’m not OK with that!

I wanted to build my own house from my own designs (which I spent countless hours drafting and refining).  My very own homestead where I could raise food, be close to nature and live in peace.  Instead I’ve been in a crappy 4-plex for the last 20 years as inflation has far outpaced income and kept me hanging on for dear life.

I wanted to build custom cars that had every detail perfectly aligned with my vision…  I had numerous ideas for inventions -nothing earth shattering or life changing necessarily, but what I thought were great ideas that certainly had a marketable value…  I’ve started two screenplays and two novels I never finished…  This blog here is my 3rd attempt at making something that might speak to someone, and yet I’m floundering here too. 

In short, I’ve not really accomplished anything of note.

I spent a lot of time, a large portion of my life, feeling like a victim.   Feeling like I was surrounded by bad luck. Like I was misunderstood.  Like I “deserved better”.  Why?  I couldn’t tell you.  It wasn’t until a few years ago I finally got to a place where I could accept my own faults.  Where I realized that, for the most part, my place in the world had more to do with my bad decisions and either lack of initiative or lack of determination, than with the world being “unfair”.  That, my friends, is a BITTER pill to swallow.  And I’ve been choking on that bitter pill for a couple years now.  I spent a lot of years convincing myself I was special, but when it comes down to it, I’m not.  Not really.  I’m a dreamer.  Maybe in some regards even a visionary, but I let fear of the unknown stop me from giving it my all. I chose “safety” over doing something extraordinary. In the big game of Life it turns out I’m just another cog in the machine.  This is NOT how I saw myself and I’m trying to reconcile who I thought I was with who I actually am.

Maybe I had too many interests. Maybe if I had just set my sights on one single thing and pursued it relentlessly things would be different.  Maybe I just wanted too much.  I didn’t grow up impoverished but we didn’t have much, and it seemed I was surrounded by folks that had so much more. And I wanted some of that life!  To have a nice house, cool cars, to take vacations, to provide all the things to my kids that I never had.  And sure, lots of people end up with better than they deserve,  but it’s my own fault for holding myself up as a victim when that didn’t happen for me.  I had no business thinking something great was coming my way, considering where I’d come from.  The old saying is you’ve got to play the cards you’re dealt, and unfortunately when life dealt a crappy hand I folded.  No one to blame but myself for not drawing more cards until I had a winning hand.

So here I am, rapidly approaching “retirement age”(Ha!!!), not only broke but deeply in debt, savings is gone, no assets but a 25 year old truck and some musical gear that I can’t seem to sell, a crumbling marriage, a strained relationship with my only child due to the marriage problems, and a deep sense of dread that I’ve squandered this life and my gifts. How does one turn that around? 

Literally the only bright spot is the new job, which is in a career that chose me rather than vice versa and I only took out of sheer desperation and necessity.  Yeah, a 57 year old whore. Let’s just call it what it is.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this.  All I’d planned to do was drop a paragraph or two about getting a new job… The rest of it just shot out, stream of consciousness style.  Way more personal than I am comfortable with or care to admit, much less “put out there” but maybe the fact that I wrote it means something. I don’t know what,  but something.  Maybe the reason none of my writing has impacted anyone is because I’ve been so guarded and reluctant to show the “real” me, warts and all.  Maybe I need to let go of all that – the pride, the ego, the fear of being found out, and just let my flippin’ guard down for once in my life.

There is a dude on YouTube that got lodged in my algorithm, who is a real smart ass and likes to rip on people a lot for their complaints (deservedly so, more often than not) but one thing he says often is “You’re not allowed to quit”.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve needed to hear that these last few months.  Not that I’m considering pushing my own delete button or anything that severe, but sometimes just getting out of bed to face the day ahead has seemed like an insurmountable task. 

I realize this is coming off as poor me, self pity crap, though honestly that is not my intent.  I’m trying to make sense of my circumstances and find a new path forward.  The obstacle I’m facing is the destination.   How do I forge a path if I don’t know where I’m going?  Clearly, my lifelong goal of being a musician is out of the question, yet I don’t want to stop playing music.  My job is too demanding and my personal life in too much upheaval to pursue a “serious” band or project in my spare time and my ego (as deflated as it currently is) won’t allow me to get into schlocky, amateur hour stuff.  Good music, like any art, takes time and dedication in addition to skill and talent.  And besides, the music business is going (has gone?!?) down the tubes, so even the idea of discovering or producing new bands appears to be a fruitless endeavor.  There is simply no money in music anymore. I can pour myself into this new job, bust my hump and be the best I can possibly be, but in the end, it’s just a job.  I have no love for the work, I just happen to be pretty good at it.  Even if I were to become the greatest facilities director they’ve ever seen, if I got hit by a bus I’d be replaced within a couple weeks and life would go on as if I’d never been there.  At this stage of my life, between my age and my financial situation I’ll never own a home, much less build one like I always dreamed of.  And at the rate of marital decline, I may end up “living in a van down by the river” rather than even being under the thumb of a landlord. 

I’m just gonna say it, my future looks bleak.  If I ever needed a miracle or cosmic intervention, it’s now.  Right. Now.  I’ve seen the error of my ways, I accept responsibility for my many failings, and I’m willing to put in the work, but I NEED a direction. A purpose.  I want a life worth living and I hope to leave something worthwhile behind.

I’ve taken a long fall and I have a long way to climb.  As the old song goes, “I’ve got a long way to go, and a short time to get there”.  It’s not easy reversing a life of bad habits and worse decisions. Reinventing oneself in the twilight years.  All I know for certain, is I’m not allowed to quit.

Thanks for stopping by.