Through A Squinted Eye

I have rrecently come to questioning the one ability that is a part of my soul.  Can I get up on a stage again playing music and singing?  It is odd how something I have been trying to regain for the past eight years is always dangled in front of me like the all too famous carrot on a string.  Yet if it is to come to fruition (thank you Sting), can it come back and blossom enough to feel the pleasant satisfaction it offers.  I realize it would not be as I remember it from the first go around, but I feel with that experience in mind it could be ever more gratifying  to my senses.

I guess this stems from my “drummer” (if he gets his shit together) contacting me to make a push in getting a bassist and openign for some friends.  The bassist is somewhat hard to swallow since the one we grew together with was an amazingly talented musician and good natured person, but when trouble comes he vanishes completely.  Thus, relying on that kind of person is impossible.  So all of it sounds good in theory.  We head out with the bulk being covers to reduce practice and play a show once a month.  At this point, even giving the drummer the benefit of the doubt by saying he comes though and sticks to it.  Can I produce anymore after sitting on a shelf for so long?

Well I guess I must try.

…It is as true then as it is today. Let us Pray.

As “youngish” adult I hear constantly hear the sentiments or even the phrases “they don’t make ‘em like they use to” and “it used to be…” At this point I cringe. Perhaps it is because my job is directly related to the construction industry. Moreover, the employees are generally in their mid 40’s and up. The fact is that the workforce is still flooded with the baby-boomers and the backlash on the younger generations is worrisome to me.

A trying matter is that the economy is in the shitter, and the President’s message is to invest in fields other than the financial structure. Construction being a major one with technology, eduction, and energy-efficiency. What I derive from my small pocket of the world is that the construction industry as well as much of manufacturing is fraught with old-age thinking that scoffs at youth. My positions in the workforce is elevated to some degree, but my true path is to stay in line and ride the wave. Unfortunately every wave will crest and tumble back to a valley. The baby-boomers eventually will need to step aside. The “youth” will have to attain the ranks and lead the way. Obviously right? But how? first of all, I have been demeaned by my age and forced to sit rear-facing in the vehicle of the workforce. Let me state that some markets are not the same, such as the financial market, education, and science. However, these industries are still primarily led by old white man. It is in these markets in which the younger generations have been able to gain footholds.

Overall, the reality of my world is that I am wedged in poor thought and a yearn to business in stagnant out-dated ways. What little headway I have made can be eradicated at any moment, but there again I may just need to explore another mountain. The time for change will occur when a large workforce will finally retire. Be it disaster or prosperity, the time is nearing. The old way will no longer be adequate. I hope that we will not rely on these measures.

Some days it seems we need a distraction. A diversion of Lilliputians or naked bowling while tripping on acid. Well maybe not so bold. The fact of the matter is the rants and raves of people become so repetitive and rendered meaningless.

We all know someone who constantly finds something to bitch about and is ceaseless through all accommodations. Such insistent complaining loses passion regardless of validation unto the point in which he/she becomes a buzz in the ear that is in desperate need to be swatted away before a sting is to follow. That is the instance in which I realized that the drone bee is nearly driving me mad. I struggle to not complain myself. Are we not all frustrated on this wonderful globe. Yet, the mind steers into this rut of negativity and bounces helplessly within it completely ruining one’s suspension. As we course through life unable to hold ourselves up completely, I think to myself… I have finally been crushed by the real world.

Then I see my baby daughter, my unbelievably good dogs, and smile. My wife will be frazzled from a joyous 7 month old that will not stop exploring this world (sick or not) and I know by the end of the night I will make her laugh. And does she ever need it. What the hell was my point again?