One thing I forgot to mention yesterday is that beyond this malaise and hibernation style living, beyond the fear of not being able to get out there and play again is this thought that wakes me up in the morning every day: This is your one life. It’s a snap of the fingers from when you’re born until when you die and it’s a fraction of that before you’re too old to be vital without being significantly more vital than I’ll ever be and this stasis is my life TRICKLING AWAY like egg whites through a crack in the shell that you can’t see when you open the carton.
I am not young, and fuck…thank god! My children are missing their formative years. 25 year olds are missing the “time of their life” and I’m just missing the victory lap of youth parlaying into what I hope is a semi undignified elder statesmanship. I don’t know how different this part of my life is really supposed to be to be honest and that’s why this is an “it gets me out of bed” thought and not a “it haunts my days thought.”
But still, this is MY life. This is a YEAR of my life. the only one I have. I’m no big city actuary but I think it’s unlikely that I’m gonna live to be 90, so calling me middle aged is a bit on the generous side. And here’s the thing: if I DO live to be 90, why don’t you go ahead and take some of those later years from me instead. I don’t feel like they’re gonna be that great. I bet sitting inside not being on tour and not going to restaurants and bars and punk rock clubs is a lot easier when you’re 87.
But that’s not totally how this kinda thing works, apparently, so I’ll just be glad I’m not missing a more crucial year, like some year that my band put out a great record and could have toured on it and met all our new fans….sigh.
And as I think about this, I consider that this year is robbing me of even more years of my life due to the sloth and booze and lack of motivation and stimuli. It’s just gonna lead to decay that will envelop me sooner than I would were I engaged in a more dynamic simulation.
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this pandemic kept me from getting beaten to death by the cops or walking in front of a train or meeting the wrong person who would end up killing me or petting the wrong dog or drunkenly putting my dick in the blender or whatever. It’s possible that this pandemic completely saved my life. It is highly unlikely and it presupposes you believe in a number of things that I don’t believe in, but it’s possible.
Anyway, that’s all. If you like this tiny addendum and want to read part one, please consider subscribing. it’s cheap and it’s not like there’s anywhere else to spend your money these days, right?