In this, my first post in the ongoing series I will entitle, “Words From The Midwest” I will first mention, briefly, that the midwest should really be called the mideast. It’s simple logic and geographical correctness which fuels this belief. I mean, really. There’s nothing western about the midwest except that it’s just west of the east. Though I suppose that at some point in the history of this great* nation, the midwest was, indeed, the most west and so I suppose, on some level, I can get behind it being called the midwest today. But, honestly, it is a misnomer in this, the year of Our Lord, two thousand and fourteen.
As it is, I’m writing to you from my back porch. It is a beautiful day in Cleveland, with not a cloud in the sky, a slight breeze, and the sound of The Beatles’ “Revolver” escaping from my computer speakers. The sound quality is less than exceptional but the songs are familiar and I know all the words to every song on the album even though, as with every time I listen to it, I have skipped “Yellow Submarine” because no one needs to hear that song too often after they’ve passed from adolescence and into adulthood. I don’t hate it. But it isn’t very good. It’s a goddamn novelty song, really. So it goes.
It is August the sixth, three days from August the ninth, which is the day I will turn twenty-six. I’m looking forward to it. I believe the back half of my twenties shall be infinitely better than my early twenties and, while I’m on the subject of age, I believe my thirties will be my best decade.
If you don’t know, I’m a writer and a musician. To date, I have written three novellas – all of which are semi-autobiographical – and a collection of poetry from my previous writing series, which is entitled “Good Morning, Good Afternoon, and Good Evening.” That series is over with, hence my beginning this series which, as I’ve already said, and which you can gather from the heading of this post, is entitled “Words From The Midwest.” I’m excited about this one just as I was excited about the last one. But that one is over. Finished. History. Zilched.
As this is the first in a series, it will undoubtedly be a good bit longer than those which follow, in that I am taking the time to introduce you to myself and my work. My work is extensive and, in addition to my published works, I have written and released ten albums of original material, as well as a collection of forty-some-odd covers of some of my favorite songs which I recorded over the past three years. A good bit of them are butcher-jobs, but, as I have taken to releasing my almost-every whim since two thousand and eleven, they are available to download for free via my Bandcamp page (thesupposedso.bandcamp.com).
And so there you have it. Ten albums and three books are now available to read or listen to for free. Check the links on the right of this page if you’re curious.
My next release will be a combination book and tape. The book is around one hundred and fifteen pages and chronicles my time living on the streets of Portland, Oregon, which I did for about a month in two thousand and thirteen. The book is also about two songwriters writing and recording an album and, thus, as you read, you every so often run into the lyrics to a song. It is my hope that, as people read, they will listen along to the music. This is my hope.
The music is better than the book. So it goes.
So here we are, brought together by the internet. It is my hope that you are doing quite well. I’m just about as good as I can be, these days. Although these days I’m missing a good amount of people who have left my life. But I will say that, as with nearly everything in this life, it was good enough while it lasted with each and every one of them. If you’re reading this and I haven’t seen you in a while, know that I think of you often and wish you nothing but the best in this life. Although, if you’re reading this, I am taking this opportunity to tell you to please fuck off slightly. You know who you are unless you don’t, in which case, I’ll refer you to my previous statement of goodwill.
I enjoy people. I enjoy thrifting. I enjoy music. And I enjoy good solid television. I’ve been watching Seinfeld these past couple months. I’d only ever seen it in reruns although I do recall seeing the very last episode ever when it originally aired on NBC. I don’t need to tell you of its brilliance. This has been well documented.
I also like movies sometimes but I often don’t have the attention span to watch one all at once. This is only a slight problem in my opinion.
Recently I’ve also been watching Getting Doug With High which I won’t describe simply because all it is is comics smoking weed and talking, although I suppose that’s as good a description as anything. I hope to be on that show sometime and if you’re reading this and care that I enjoy marijuana from time to time, I offer you my sincere apologies. But it should be legal everywhere. This is my opinion. It is also a cold hard fact.
It’s interesting to me, as I’m getting back to talking about my work, that I have done so much over the past three years, all things considered. In two thousand and twelve, I was diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder which is characterized by intense, full blown mania and psychosis. I have experienced both of these things in the past two years and have spent time in the hospital for treatment two different times. I have also struggled with crippling depression for as long as I can remember although it should be noted that both my depression and my mania have subsided almost entirely since I have been medicated. It’s kind of a bummer to me that I will be on some form of medication for the rest of my life. I’ve recently been researching alternative forms of therapy as I am wholly against the Pharmaceutical Conglomerate and Big Business in general. But at least I don’t have to give my own money to these bastards. No, my medication is completely covered by my insurance. God willing, this continues.
As I sit here, I am overwhelmed by the sound of a lawn mower some yards away.
To conclude these rambles, I’ll let you know that I am currently writing two different novels, one a coming-of-age type story and one about a man who has died and who is trying to figure out whether he’s in Heaven or Hell. Spoiler alert, he’s in neither. Or both.
I have also just finished writing what will become my twelfth album. It is entitled “Dad’s Typewriter” which is also the future name of a band I will eventually form.
I hope you have and have had what amounts to a glorious Wednesday. As Summer winds down, take the time to enjoy the blue of the sky and the green of the grass as August takes hold and leads us, ever-so-gradually, into September.
I hope you tune in next time for more Words From The Midwest.