It was a frigid snowy day in upstate New York. One could argue the Catskills aren’t upstate but the Hudson Valley region. The type of people that make people groan when they say, “but actually…”. For our purpose we’ll say upstate. I hugged my my foster parents and said goodbye. Visited family along the way and ended up in Saint Augustine.
After staying at a Super 8 Hotel off I95, depleting my savings, I thought to myself, “What have I done.” There was absolutely no planning involved and it was all a happy accident. Ewe, pronounced “Eva”, at the front desk told me her friends from from Poland were looking for a roommate. I went with it since at the time I was hemorrhaging money rapidly. I would sleep on a mattress in the living room and enjoy learning about Polish culture and food for a while as I worked day labor doing manual labor shoveling rubble at a construction site. After that I did temp work at a menu factory where they made the check books for restaurants. I learned that I can not work at any factory run by the bell system. Basically a bell goes off everyone goes on break then a bell goes off to tell you you have a minute to be at your station. Its mindless, repetitive, but also fast paced. However this job lead me back to the convenience store business. I applied at a Sprint Gas station connected to a bail bonds office.
Through this job I would find someone who would later be my roommate in a two bedroom apartment. Our love of the Clerks and everything Kevin Smith at the time would be something we’d have in common. In time I would transfer and move up to an Assistant Manager position. Eventually my roommate would go to the army and I would get promote to manager at a store I knew nothing about technologically. The store was never up graded to a modern (at the time) POS system. A separate gas console, separate credit card machine connected to the phone line and an antique Omron register. The hallway to the bathroom was both my office and storage area. Meanwhile when I took over construction was booming at a previous slow location. I worked eighty hours a week on salary believing I was paying my dues.
I got a girlfriend and she moved in and at the time I thought this is the American dream. Sure it wasn’t always perfect but it was home while it lasted. We had cats even though we weren’t allowed and when things fell apart; the landlord wanted to inspect the apartment so I had to move out before I got evicted.
I would move in with a friend out of desperation and no where else to go even though I knew of potential drama going in. I was now working at a different convenience store company that I would work at for almost fifteen years and a hotel as night security. I thought the night security job would be easy Netflix and chill (nothing sexual). Instead I found myself babysitting drunk entitled wedding guest that thought they were doing us a favor by being there to lower our Trip Advisor reviews. After moving into my own space I would quit the hotel and move onto bussing tables. No responsibility and I got paid to work out.
From This point and for the next seven years, I would get comfortable as an assistant manager and have a studio apartment. Everything was secure and comfy. I seriously could have lived like this for the next twenty years. It was all my safe space but now it’s over.
Like twenty years earlier, I decided to burn it down. Okay not really, I left everything on good terms. My job had been my home to me, I developed deep relationships with my coworkers over time. I left my apartment on good terms as well. I left knowing the doors were always open but with the intention to run away not only from these places and people but who I had become. I became a person that could be comfortable doing the same thing everyday for the rest of my life. A resident of an open air prison of my own design. Something had to change. So I quit my job, I moved my apartment into a gravel bike and bike trailer and I left it all behind. This was after twenty years away from home and here’s to the next twenty years.
Up the stairs, into the fire
Yeah, up the stairs, into the fire
I need you near
But love and duty called you some place higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire
May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love
Bruce Springsteen “Into the Fire”
In modern history time is broken down in two categories: before 9-11 and after 9-11. Exactly twenty years ago I was working in a printing factory in upstate New York (5:45am as I type). I was likely having a smoke break in the last hour and fifteen minutes left of work. The majority of my coworkers were blue collar white males. Next we had a large black black demographic mostly older Jamaicans and some of them were working two jobs. Now keep in mind this job was a twelve hour shift so I have no idea when they slept. There was also a large Pakistani population as well. Ramadan would complicate things as well since everyone of them would go to lunch at the same time. Mostly we didn’t give a shit about culture just do your fucking job. This is all background though.
I got home around 7:30am and would typically go into an excite dot com chatroom. This was before social media if friendster was a thing it wasn’t mainstream. A woman I’m chatting with says “It looks like a plane hit the World Trade Center” First stage I’m in denial and I think its a little Sesna plane. Then she says she’s got to go after she tells me a second plane hit. I log off and would never converse with her again. I go out to the living room and turn on the big box TV and sit in the recliner. In the other room, next to the television blaring the news report was a Pakistani couple that lived in my foster parents house. I had recently moved back home.
When I was living in Albany New York working at a coffee shop at the Airport and mall I would call home once a week. My foster mom would talk to this man struggle at the local gas station and I shit you not they told me she “got a sign from God” and decided to take him in and later his wife that moved here. I would relay this quote to the FBI when I was questioned.
So the Pakistani couple and I watched the horror on the news together. I know twenty years later its politically incorrect to say I was suspicious of them but I want to be honest. I was studying their reaction and they were just a horrified as me. I know in hindsight its on par with my Italian ancestors being looked at with suspicion based on anarchists and mobsters. Eventually I’d have to go to sleep and seeing the horror of people choosing between jumping to their death or burning to death. A choice no one should have to make. I’d watch the towers collapse. These towers I’d see every trip to NYC as the first clue you’re close in the skyline. I’d see the pentagon get hit but it was a blur. I had to be at work 7 pm so I went to sleep. Work would be intense in the environment I explained earlier. Sure the supervisors immediately talked about harassment policies and how it wouldn’t be tolerated. I stayed quite. But you can sense the rage in some of the people I worked with and fear in the others. I listened mostly knowing nothing about that side of the world. I remember a guy from California talking to me about US foreign policy but adding the caveat “this doesn’t justify it but…”
Our New York Times TV guides would have a white powder sprinkled on it to set the ink (I think that’s why) then the anthrax scare occurred. Someone joked in the break room, “I guess I won’t be receiving my cocaine in the mail anymore.” It was the first joke I heard in a month. So obviously no more powder. A recently married friend had invited many of us over for a Saturday Night Live party the second week it was back on. Sean William Scott was the host this had the sketch of Will Ferrell in American flag speedos in an office setting to show his patriotism. We started to laugh again and talk to our friends and neighbors. However I watched on the news as the drum beats for war began.
Meanwhile at home my foster father would tell our guests they are family to us but its in their best interest to leave maybe to Canada for their safety. Someone called the police on them I don’t know why but I was sitting on the recliner vegging out when they walk in quiet sad and depressed following by the State police, and multiple men in suits from the INS and FBI. I was questioned and told them what I knew included the fact that my foster mom a strict Catholic “got a sign from God”. The man would be detained without any legal rights since neither were citizens. His wife would be allowed to continue to live with us until things were dealt figured out. The basic rule according to custom I was not allowed in the same room as her if we were the only ones in the house and we worked around this since I slept during the day. Now further backstory. They were trying to have a baby for a while unsuccessfully. Luckily after he was released and they moved to Canada she would have her first child. My foster parents would maintain correspondence. It would take two days for an email to reach us which made us feel they being analyzed by people in government. We also would hear an occasional clicking sound in the phone but none of us were concerned. Anyhow the couple would build a family immediately after detainment and last I heard would doing good.
Nine eleven was the impossible happening. And no, random Facebook post I have not forgotten, I haven’t forgotten the fear, anger, and grief that traumatized a nation and much of the world. I haven’t forgot how we were manipulated into a war with countries that didn’t attack us when we were most vulnerable. I will never forget how our politicians ignored the first responders as their medical bills were piling up from breathing in the toxic air of ground zero as they worked tirelessly. No I won’t forget but I won’t used the event as an excuse to hate and reason to smear Muslims in our government and community. I won’t cheer on a war because someone used World Trade Center imagery to propagandize it. What we learned that day more than any other day is that tomorrow is not guaranteed and you have to live life know it could be your last.
Up until the age of twelve I lived my life as a vagabond or a gypsy. Home wasn’t a place as much as a state of mind. After my father died I bounce from different family members to different foster homes til I found one that put up with me. On this account I was lucky. Some find there way into group homes which become a gateway to permanent institutionalization. In high school I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Also read Into the Wild by John Krakauer a true story about the travels of Christopher McCandless (AKA Alexander Supertramp). Both books helped inspire me to travel with nothing and nothing to lose. By 2003, I had tried college, the military, retail and a stable factory job but I knew it wasn’t for me. I understood life is short learning that at a young age, then seeing people my age die and of course 9-11 being just over a hundred miles south of me. What if I stayed in the factory collect my overtime and benefits going to the local bar week after week without seeking adventure? Who knows maybe I’d be married with kids and a house, then divorced, losing the house after the factory’s closing and the housing market crashed. Maybe I would’ve eventually got caught up in America’s opioid epidemic that struck my hometown like many others throughout the country. Either way I knew I had to leave. The road was calling me.
No Plan, No Place, No Job.
“Freebird” on the Radio
In the printing factory between stacking advertising flyers I’d glance at the USA Today weather map and seen how warm Florida was in winter. Today I know Floridians don’t fear hurricanes, instead their dread lies in sub fifty degree weather. For months I fantasized about getting in my Jeep Wrangler and driving south. No job, no place and no plan; I would seek adventure. The first week in January of 2003, I quit my job, packed my my Jeep and drove south.
First stop was Freehold, New Jersey. I visited my uncle who at this point I only knew through family funerals. In conversations we talked about my father who was a stranger to me. It was definitely good to see that missing piece. I never knew my father’s side of the family and I was too young to know the who, why, what or where of what was going on after his death at the age of forty. I’m almost four years older than he was at his demise which is bizarre to contemplate. Anyhow after many drinks, the playoffs watching Michael Vick be spectacular before the dog fighting scandal broke, and meeting other family I never met. It was a good trip nowadays my uncle and I are polar opposites on the political spectrum but can always agree to sit down for a beer or many.
From Freehold to Norfolk, Virginia, I went over the Chesapeake Bay bridge which if you have any fear of drowning or tunnels you might want to avoid. It’s both scary and thrilling to be on a long stretch of road on the middle of the ocean. Then you’re in a tunnel twice. In Norfolk I met up with my brother. We enjoyed some drinks at Jillian’s which has since closed. It was a competitor to Dave and Busters that ended filing for Chapter 11. I got my car towed by parking in the wrong spot which I had not planned. Luckily I got my paperwork faxed from family to prove ownership. Other than that it was pleasant visit but now I was entering the great unknown.
I was headed for Florida. It’s warm down there, no snow and I could become a new person. I always felt I was a sidekick to my friends and this in hindsight was my own doing. At twenty-five I had no idea who I was. I was as lost internally as I was on the map. It was only appropriate I go without a plan. Possibly it was a passive suicide attempt. Then again staying where I was would only kill my spirit over an extended period of time.
It was late at night when I made it to Florida I 95. Signs appeared for St. Augustine, Florida and I fatefully took that exit. Here I booked a room at a Super 8 Hotel (or motel I’m not sure). An attractive Polish student was working the front desk that night and she was trusting enough to ask for a ride to her apartment. She directed me through the scenic route of downtown Saint Augustine and I instantly fell in love with this magical place. From late November until the end of January the entire town is lit up in what is called The Nights of Lights. Her friends need a roommate so I went with it.
For a while I would stay with students from Poland; in a way I was the tour guide of American culture answering peculiar questions about common vernacular. This was where my story began in Florida. Things went right and things fell apart in about twenty years as of 2023. Speaking of 2023, I’m due for a new adventure. This time there will be planning and and end goal. I do believe everyone should once in there life go out with no idea what they are doing just to see where the road will lead you. Leaving New York was one of the best decisions I made and anyone that truly feels stuck in life should consider a change of scenario and an opportunity to become a new person.
Recently I had Covid-19 or coronavirus whatever you want to call it but I won’t start there. Instead I’ll start from the beginning. In a way we all have had coronavirus for well over a year now. We saw news reports from China; then Europe exploded with the pandemic. In America we can’t say we weren’t warned because it was obvious with every day. In fact we had well over a month to get out shit together. America failed. I’m not blaming the president or the congress or the media specifically but as a whole our society failed. By March of 2020 covid-19 was already spreading throughout major cities New York being one. President Trump downplayed as if it was just a flu early on or he would use it to specifically demonize China which was red meat for the racists of his base. I’m not saying all Trump supporters are racist but if you were racist it was likely you were voting for Trump.
Being that there was little to no federal response New York’s Governor Cuomo decided to shut down travel to his state. In shutting down New York, Cuomo would set off a mass exodus throughout the country. If you watch YouTube during this time period you could see a mass quantity of people disperse throughout the country. Meanwhile in Florida we shutdown our bars and beaches and were advised to socially distance ourselves. People ignored warning because they watched news channels that downplayed the disease. It was a half measure People shopped at my job multiple times a day just to get out of the house. Now I love freedom but what I came to realize is sometimes the masses are too dumb to know what’s good for them. People were gathering and simultaneously the license plates on the cars at gas pumps were more frequently from out of state. It was Bike Week (I’m fifty miles north of Daytona) when we had our first confirmed covid case, a tourist from New York. It had begun.
At work we would wear gloves and masks. I had ordered mine early because I had planned on flying to New York in August to visit family. Within three months I would have three coworkers test positive for corona. Luckily for me I worked overnight and was out of range of the masses. I think it was May, New York announced travelers would have to quarantine two weeks when vacationing. I don’t know if the people that made the rule understand how vacations work. First vacations are only one week and I could just spend a week in a room without buying a fucking plane ticket. Needless to say I had to cancel my Airbnb and flight. I had two types of customers. One would ask why people aren’t wearing masks and sometimes would confront them or ask me what I was going to do about it. Luckily for me we were instructed not to enforce it. However I did have to deal with customers “forgetting” that we weren’t doing refills on coffee or fountain drinks. That was a fun unnecessary daily issue with people that ignored signs. The other type of person argued against wearing masks because of their freedom to be Covid Marys.
The media told us the death toll regularly while the president would handle it so bad he turned a politically rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma into a petri dish that would spread the disease to even former presidential candidate Herman Cain who would later die. Trump himself would also contract the disease because obviously they weren’t careful (great job). So Trump would lose mostly because of the poor handling to covid. The Democratic party was fully intent on proving anyone could beat Trump by propping up two time losing candidate Joe Biden.
Biden won and the vaccine was in production between three pharmaceutical corporations because nationalizing it would hurt any profit incentive. The deal was made under the Trump administration but as Biden is president the vaccine is being distributed. The media claimed mission accomplished its an end to covid. That’s funny because these articles came out while I was in quarantine.
On a Friday at work I was getting my ass kicked. Vendors, tourists, and now running fast food to compete with competitors. There was a point where I was lightheaded and lethargic. I’ve felt this before though, Almost fifteen years earlier working eighty hours a week on salary thinking I was paying dues. I said to myself the same thing I said then, ” Suck it up!” . It was rent week so I didn’t know what my health insurance would cover and I was still waiting on my not two thousand dollar stimulus ( fourteen hundred) and my tax return. That night I was coughing up chewy chunks while biking home. I would later see it was orange. Typically I get bronchitis around this time of year so I wasn’t concerned and I was needed at work. The Friday after I paid rent I got tested and Monday afternoon I got a link to an app that showed I was positive. Positively shocked!!!
After notifying my boss I was informed I would be out two weeks and then I’d have to get two consecutive negative tests before I could get back. First thought I was letting my coworkers down. The second thought was woohoo. No work. At this point I just had a cough similar to my bronchitis but that was it. I had time on my hands. I was getting my groceries and dinners delivered. The first couple days I would clean my apartment and do all my laundry. It was fantastic catching up on real life out side of work. I was loving life.
Yet at the same time it was lonely. The solitude is a feeling that your in purgatory. Your not living your best life but instead existing sleep to sleep. Sure I got some reading done, and changed my bike chain but I also took a good hard look at who I am. If my twenty year old self saw who I became he would first be surprised I didn’t die after thirty and then punch me for wasting so much time. Between coughing fits I’d argued with strangers online about the George Floyd case, Kyle Rittenhouse, pro-wrestling, and pop culture. Twitter is a dumpster fire in which the debates devolve to strawman fallacies and name calling. Instead of learning to play keyboard with my time I had to get the last word against someone that may have been paid to troll through K-Hive or MAGA.
I was lucky I didn’t die. Though I was more afraid of hospitalization than death. Could I afford to go to the hospital? I don’t know how much my insurance would cover. Also the effect on the brain the virus has was a fear of mine. A few weeks later I still have a slight cough when I talk extensively. After a month I plan to take the vaccine specifically to be able to fly to NY so I can visit family. Anyway I’m back to work now. We are still short staffed and struggling. Throughout this experience I learned I don’t want to be in purgatory til I die. There is more to life then clocking in for someone else and sleeping to be rested before going back to work again. Live your best life until it’s over.
Recently I stayed at a fancy hotel for a couples days. From the outside it looked lovely, beautiful architecture, valet parking expensive art etc. I’ve walked passed this place for close to twenty years. I looked it with curiosity like the narrator of The Great Gatsby in the exposition. Being a service industry prole I showed up with a full backpack paying with my prepaid credit card. I thought this would make me happy.
So I get up to the elevator which can only be activated by inserting my room key with the sound of Spanish Guitar playing lightly over the speakers. I enter the room and I have to say it was okay. For four hundred dollars in two days it was fine. There were other hotels I could’ve stayed at for cheaper but I’m reaching for the Air Jordans. To be fair you’re not just paying for the room. I had access to a country club, lounge and room service. Yes room service, growing up poor this sounded crazy. I can make a phone call and someone sends me food off at restaurant menu to my door. How dope is that.
It wasn’t the hotel’s fault but I wasn’t happy. It was a Nor’ Easter with thirty mile per hour winds and high tide was randomly flooding the streets. Also I was alone and that’s one thing but I felt lonely. Watching TV, hating what the culture has become with no one to share it with. Maybe it was a phone conversation that reminded me of this. Being alone I’ve embraced much of my life. Room service was awesome though. Like I said before I wasn’t happy which leads me to believe I wasn’t alone in this feeling. Maybe millions of people across the globe were in fancy hotels with all their whims catered to but still depressed. As I would look in from the outside finishing my job somewhere I’d think everyone is happy on the other side of those doors.
I look at the hotel facade as a metaphor for other aspects of life. It’s the Facebook profile of the happy family with the successful lifestyle. It’s the accomplishment of winning but not really getting what you need. It’s all bullshit. This may sound completely depressing at first but in a way its liberating. The lives of our heroes and people “living their best life” are just as sad as yours when you take a wrecking ball to the facade.
So to whoever reads this enjoy your life. Don’t strain yourself reaching for the Air Jordans when you’ll be just as comfy in a pair of sandals. If we are lucky we get eighty years. After that dead forever. So why worry about other peoples success when you could make this an amazing adventure.
There’s a feeling I’ve had lately as I go through my day to day experiences. You know, you do your routine going to work, meal and Netflix, tweet, sleep and repeat. Every day blends together in a three hundred and sixty five day year. Maybe it’s covid’s effect on society, or the shitty election, and having to cancel my vacation in New York. It’s a bad year all around. I’m feeling a reverse momentum of moving forward with my goals and dreams its NOMENTUM.
I’m certain I’m not alone here feeling nihilistic as I watch the news. What’s the point? Tell people to quarantine and its party time. Everyone needs a haircut or to go to the lake, prolonging the amount of time till we are can party again. How did I become the responsible adult? I’ll save my thoughts on that for another time. In the meantime it’s past the halfway point of 2020 and nothing is done. I’m not moving forward. It’s okay.
Consider 2020 a rebuilding year. As some of you stay home away from the world here’s some advice based off some of my wins and losses from the year.
- teach yourself a new skill or multiple new skills.
- read more
- workout
- decide who you want to be
- put in the work
Honestly I haven’t read as much as I should. I’ve gone through maybe three books this year. I bike everyday back and forth to work and occasion do yoga when my apartment is clean. However the one blessing throughout this pandemic is self discovery. Often we want to be who society tells us we are supposed to be because it’s success, or manliness, or cool but then you see people who have achieved all these things and they are miserable. Now is the best time to look within yourself and say “this is who I am”. Unless you want to harm others then maybe that’s the worst advice. For others though if this year has taught us anything its the fact that life can be short.
I’m typing this the day after actor Chadwick Boseman passed away from cancer. He was successful and he did what he loved. Just months older then myself he’s gone after a four year battle with cancer he kept private. Months ago Kobe Bryant just starting a new chapter in his life dies in a freak accident that also took his daughter and others. Then political commentator Michael Brooks dies from a random blood clot. Of course so many throughout the world are gone from Covid 19.
Its okay to have Nomentum. In these crazy time it’s best to tune out shut down, take a break and recharge. Then after removing yourself from the blanket burrito its time to work on your passion because the clock is still ticking.
I’ve been caught in a rut. During this time of quarantine with the corona virus going around I’ve become even more unproductive than before. I have this blog and a YouTube channel to explore my creative outlets. This would have been a fantasy as a child and I see my teenage self punching me then making me tap out for being a lazy potato. My off hours from work consist of sharing memes on Facebook, watching political videos catered to my bubble on YouTube and arguing about politics on Twitter.
So many hours have been spent arguing with people on Twitter. I thought Facebook was bad but here I can argue with complete strangers for hours. It’s funny to think these people I’m arguing with I could probably have a beer and a laugh with them. Then again some don’t have a sense of humor and would be triggered by anything. I know because I’ve encountered such people in reality.
Two weeks back a pundit from CNN posted something and a pundit from MSNBC commented on it. The two took turns attacking Bernie Sanders and his supporters. So I had to say at least Bernie can’t raise taxes on said pundit now. Who knew this moment would cost hours of my life. The MSNBC host bragged about her high taxes as if it was an altruistic choice and this lead to a shit show. I brought up the public tantrum on MSNBC after the Nevada caucus. There was no unity or “vote blue no matter who” it was all about stopping Bernie Sanders. My points brought rage from Biden supporters some may have previously been employed by David Brock’s “Correct the Record”. The media doesn’t like to talk about establishment trolls. The strategy was simple. Attack my character by inferring I’m a racist and or sexist then block so I can’t reply in my defense. Maybe because I’m new to Twitter at least in full time use this was surprising behavior. On the bright side I received no death threats from this. That actually happened when I criticized Reagan years back in a tweet.
There was a point when I realized this was a huge waste of time recently. In the battle between keyboard warriors we get lost in the fog. I was arguing against confederate statues pointing at the time they were built in glorification of the confederacy the kkk was in a resurgence. This lead to a pointless back and forth til I was left speechless. I was B- Rabbit five minutes into 8 Mile but for different reasons. To counter my argument the guy posts a video how the Jews were behind the slave trade. Speaking of rabbits this was a rabbit hole I decided not to go down. I’m arguing against racism and this person double down with anti-Semitism.
As bad as things got, there were a few moment when I saw humanity behind the tweets. After I made a snarky comment about virtue signaling the person I’m arguing with about Joe Biden tells me all the good he has done and I had to give him respect though I disagreed politically. For the most part these are people on the other end. It’s kind of amazing. We have this tool to connect with complete strangers and here we are extending our “two minutes of hate”. Maybe we can do better. We need to do better especially now in this time when so many either are or will be struggling soon. This is the dare to be great moment we all could embrace or hashtag our rage. It’s a choice and today I choice to work on my dreams. After tweeting something about the DNC’s ineptitude (Yeah I did this while blogging this not seeing the irony).
The first movie I remember seeing in the movie theatre was Red Dawn. As a child it scared the shit out of me. Maybe seeing kids shot at point range by invading paratroopers looked way too real for a six year old. Over time I would fall in love with movies. Mostly I would see movies on TV edited or worse dubbed with phrases like “Forget you” replacing “Fuck you” and interrupted by commercials. John Hughes and Cameron Crowe would influence my childhood and adolescence often to my detriment. Today I still love the rom coms of the eighties even though the “nice guy” trope has become toxic in modern culture.
I remember the first blockbuster in my teens. It was a game changer seeing Michael Keaton play Batman against Jack Nicholson’s Joker. Today we rave about Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight but the Tim Burton Joker was the first step away from the campy Cesar Romero of the Batman TV show. Of course this wasn’t the first blockbuster. Indiana Jones and the Stars Wars franchise preceded Batman but this was the first time I got to experience the hype we experience every year through Marvel and the new Star Wars franchise. Around this time Video stores were popping up everywhere. As a kid I would go up the street and rent movies like When Harry Met Sally, maybe I was a hopeless romantic. There were goofy comedies and slasher flicks that would also catch my attention. Before that video store closed I rented Clerks also coincidentally the last day I was working at the first convenience store I worked at (there would be many more).
Clerks was the movie that made it look possible to make a movie. It was filmed in black and white, no famous actors in a convenience store. By this age I had wanted to be a screenwriter not knowing all it entailed. After watching my first Kevin Smith movie I’d write from time to time cliche’ ridden ideas with a heavy influence from John Hughes. Today I’m still trying.
So Blockbuster takes over the video store/ dvd rental landscape. For a while I worked at one. A friend and coworker would use our free rentals and we’d pass a blunt and watch. Not knowing at the time that ten minutes was the way screenplays were also judged on. If the movie sucked in the first ten minutes we knew it couldn’t be redeemed. Just the same way if a screenplay doesn’t work in the first ten pages it goes into the paper shredder. Somehow I missed what would become my favorite movie until years later.
True Romance, written by Quentin Tarantino and directed by Ridley Scott somehow slipped through the radar. It was released in the early nineties. The dialogue and gratuitous blood splatter that became Tarantino trademarks was a few years ahead of its time. I would find it in the 2000s watching Showtime late at night. Its a love story with drug smuggling and Mexican stand offs with cops and bad guys. If ever there were movies to influence my creativity in my twenties and thirties they were American Pie, True Romance and Clerks. That’s me in a nutshell. As I read screenwriting books I discovered new films at least to me. I’d go way back to Citizen Kane and back before talkies.
So every Monday I’m going to post about a movie I love. This is quite random. Sometimes it’ll be dumb as Freddy Got Fingered and other days The Godfather. If I can get people to turn off the reboot of a reboot and watch Duck Soup then my work is done.
Welcome to the new decade. World War Three almost broke out and Australia has been on fire. Well that’s not such a good start. Time to turn off the news I guess. Life is short as I’ve said before so embrace this life. I have a blog and a YouTube channel so might as well work on them. So here I am, typing my thoughts trying to make sense from the chaos. That’s what art is I suppose but it would be pretentious for me to consider myself an artist.
I’m a cashier, busser, telemarketer, burger flipper, etc. Many things but not an artist. I’m just like you on the other side of the screen reading these words between making your way through the day to life of errands and work. We are all trying to find our voice somehow I suppose, trying to find meaning. So let’s do it. I insist you to find your voice and yell it to the world. As for me this is where I go to search for it.
Plan for the Twenties
So I started my first blog in 2010 approximately. It failed for a number of reasons. I didn’t put the time in and that was because I lost interest. There were times I had writer’s block and stared at the screen for hours. Honestly my motive was to make money and quit working a real job. Ideally I imagined blogging from inside an RV and travelling the country or finally having money and time to spend with my girlfriend at the time. Once reality struck I lost interest and years later started another blog but I lost it when I ran out of money and the domain as well. So this is a fresh start and I need a plan.
The blog will be my home for creative projects. There’s a book series I’m plotting out about an uber driver with a grow house. It was a screenplay idea but there world seems to be getting bigger in my mind. After reading Stephen King’s On Writing I realized that this might be the direction I will go. Okay honestly I didn’t read it I listened to it on Audible. That’s in the works and I plan to self publish it.
The YouTube channel will get better unless YouTube goes away like myspace or shuts down my channel for some arbitrary reason. Growing up with MTV having music videos I know not to assume YouTube will aways be there. Remember Myspace? Nothing is permanent here. However no matter what I will continue making videos because I love that process.
As for the rest of Tony Recluse dot com I will blog daily as of now. probably the same time. It will be random and fun. Also some serious topics because let’s be real that’s life. On that not Happy New Year and I will see you tomorrow.
So after I turned forty-two last month I was going to post one of those popular list posts like “42 lessons in forty- two years”. It sounded good at the time but then I started typing and ran into the redundancy of an inflated list. I also felt what do I know? I’m not exactly living my best life and sometimes it feels like a cautionary tale. So instead I will type what I think I know based on life experience.
Get Money
I will always say follow your dreams. That being said sometimes you are going to do things you don’t enjoy to make money. Ru Paul was right, “You gotta work”. Since high school I’ve worked fast food, telemarketing, cashiering, factory work, night security a hotel and I’ve bussed tables. The funny part is the jobs I hated the most you’d think were the best going into them. Telemarketing you get a cushy chair in a clean office but you rightfully get verbally abused by people your harassing at dinner time. The hotel was great eighty percent of the time until the drunken asshole parade returned from the wedding reception. Jobs will suck at times but find something you enjoy since it will be forty hours of your week plus commute time.
There’s a study that says the happiest people earn around seventy- five thousand a year. Of course that will go up with inflation. The reason is you have enough money to live, pay bills and go on vacations without being underwater financially. At the same time at that level you aren’t owned by your wealth and status which can lead to unhappiness of the ultra wealthy.
Also unless you’re a rare breed, no one will want to date your broke ass. Get a job, a second, job and/or a side hustle.
Your body is your vehicle
The better you treat your body the happier you’ll be. Sure sometimes I like to wake up with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and watch Netflix. It’s a way for me to feel good about being single without kids. You can’t do that when you have kids its a bad influence. However hours later I feel like garbage both physically and psychologically. I avoid soda unless there’s liquor in it and that’s not a daily occurrence for me. If I drink too much I spend the day on toilet so I really don’t know how alcoholics function. Maybe they have better digestion than me. Anyhow eat veggies when you can. Sneak that stuff in omelets with cheese. Being a night owl I love coffee and need it. I limit my cigarettes to a couple a day unless I drink in that case its likely half a pack. I’d be hypocritical to tell you not to smoke but keeping it limited is always a good thing. Also don’t do meth, crack, or heroine. That shit will age you.
Use your body. Dance when no one is watching. Run if you can. I developed shin splints a few years back and wasn’t passionate about jogging enough to take care of the situation. I bike daily for my commute. I do this partially for health but also as a ‘fuck you’ the car insurance companies that shake citizens down for protection money and to feel smug to environmentalists in their Prius’.( Just kidding). You don’t need a gym unless you have specific goals. What works for me is a bicycle and the occasion yoga session. Also I prefer to work jobs which include physical activity.
Read More Books
Eventually you’ll be in a position where you don’t have to read. There’s no papers to do and no book reports. Reading becomes a choice. You can just binge watch Netflix with your time away from work but to go deep on any subject matter you need to read. I tend to argue with people about politics so I read opposing viewpoints. I’m fairly liberal but I read The Revolution by Ron Paul and Barry Goldwalter’s Heart of the Conservative. This has also helped evolve my political positions. Good stories and depth inside a character are more easily available in a book as opposed to movies which I love. I’m almost done with Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, through it I don’t see how film can do it justice. So much of it is inside the characters head.
If you can’t afford a class there’s always a book on any topic you plan to go deep on. And shit you can even build a library of E Books on a Kindle or chosen device. So basically never stop learning.
Love is the answer
So I’ve gone through finance, the mind and the body. What about the spirit? Okay it’s really simple and encompasses most religion. Love thy neighbor. If it bleeds it leads on the news so we are trained to believe people are evil and we live in a negative world. So ok if that were true then we need more heroes and more good people to balance things out. Yes this is difficult. Customers can be assholes. Family is a pain in the ass at times. Sometimes people suck. This being the case, be helpful anyway even if its for a selfish reason like I have. I love sleep. When I’m an asshole to people my mind replays it and I have a hard to sleeping but when I do good my bed is all comfy and I sleep my way into a temporary coma.
But What Do I Know
This is the part where I allow you the reader to dismiss everything you just read. Like a screenwriter that ends with it was all a dream. I’m just a regular guy in two hours I’ll be on a dishwashing shift because I haven’t figured out how to make money by blogging or making videos. So find your own way. Maybe you’ll live the American dream. You’ll get the house with the white picket fence and the dog named sparky. If you don’t that’s okay too.
Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Mary Schmich