“A man has always wanted to lay me down, but never wanted to pick me up.”
— Eartha Kitt.
Pick her up
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
Tag Archives: support
Goth
I posted this back in April, to a private thing. At the time, I didn’t want to stir up any real trouble. But I think everyone has sorted themselves out a bit more by now. By way of editor’s notes, Chiaroscuro was a “goth/industrial” club in DC and Spellbound, in their own words, is “Alternative, Darkwave, and Industrial”… a Goth/Industrial nightclub.
Anyway:
At Spellbound this week, I had a regular attendee question me. They came up to me multiple times, and asked why I was there. I wasn’t dressed right, so I obviously wasn’t goth. I shouldn’t be there. So why did I go there?
Surprisingly, my first reaction wasn’t “Dude… you’re getting in the way of my intoxicated white guy dance, and numerous attempts to get shot down by that hot chick!” But aside from pointing out that I obviously had dressed up for a night out, I generally ignored him. What are you supposed to say, to such a ridiculously immature question?
I could argue that I’ve been attending since the night it opened, when I came out in support of a friend’s involvement, and Chiaroscuro before that. I could point out that Spellbound doesn’t bill itself as strictly “goth”. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how important these clubs had/have been to my life.
People I met in Chiaro turned into some of my best friends. At least one of them was wearing a pink suit at the time, no less. (And years later, as a wife and mom, she is still more of an awesome badass than any chain-draped, boot-wearing, pierced freak I’ve met since.) In fact, probably 95% of the people I’ve met at these clubs have been the sweetest, smartest, most interesting people I know. People who’ve supported me, comforted me, challenged me, protected me, changed me.
When I found out my father was in a hospital about to pass away, I had 16 hours until my flight, so I went to Spellbound. One awesome lady who didn’t even know what was going on in my life sat with me at the back of the bar all night and cheered me up.
More than once when I couldn’t deal with the crap in my own life, I was able to go to Spellbound and stare at the dance floor, listening to music I love… and just zone out for a while. As someone said to me this week… “attain a zen state”.
When I first started drinking, rather late in life, this was a safe place for me to learn. I felt safe, both with the staff and the people around me.
It’s brought me friends. It’s brought me business. It’s brought me lust and love. It’s introduced me to music and lifestyles and art I never would have known otherwise. I’ve been to other types of clubs, bars and events, and awesome as some of them were, they still didn’t match up.
With the help of their teams, Kelowna and Lori Beth created wonderful places to go, that have led me directly and indirectly to a place where I am very happy with my life.
So that’s kind of why I go.
So… drunk guy… you’re saying you go primarily to look like a cool goth?
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
Work
I’m trying to find a way to tell the people I love–friends and family–that they really aren’t helping me. I’ve re-written this entry three times so far, starting from scratch with each attempt.
So I work for myself now. I’ve been at it for about two-thirds of a year, and things aren’t so bad. I have a little money in the bank. (Hopefully there will still be some left after I file taxes). I have a few new toys. I go out with my friends and have fun. I eat a little too much. At this exact point, I have taken everything good from my life before, and thrown out everything that was bad.
It doesn’t come without it’s share of hard work and mental anguish. I have several friends who tell me they have their own businesses. For most of them though, it means doing freelance projects in their off hours. I, myself, did exactly that for a long time. But even discounting the legal and regulatory differences, it’s really not the same. It’s kind of like going on a blind date versus getting married. The difference in dedication and responsibility is amazing. It’s impossible to even imagine before you go ahead and do it.
In the movies, this would be where I tell you how all my friends and family were wonderful; rallying around me. If only. In reality, the almost universal response* has been to question my decision, and openly wonder how long I could last. The short response, from me, to this is: I don’t need it. My own inner demons provide plenty of doubt and worry. I don’t need to hear you inquiring as to the likelihood of my failure as casually as you would critique my clothes.
Express ‘interest’. Ask me how things are going. None of you has enough details to criticize the actual business, and therefor to have any reason for worry. And even if you did… when has friendship and family been about anything other than unconditional support. If you really felt the need to intervene, there are intelligent, meaningful ways to do it. But in the meantime, if you glibly ponder wether I’m enjoying myself while it lasts, I may just tell you to go fuck yourself.
* I say “almost everyone” because, as always, one of my friends stands out different. They know who they are, and they’ve never been anything but what I need. While writing this, I also remembered one relative who also stood out; offering to help me whatever way they could.
—
I won’t deny that I like money. When a client sent me a payment for $10,000 a while back, I Xeroxed that fucker before depositing it. But I definitely think there’s got to be something more driving you, if you’re going to stick with anything like your own company. And nothing makes me feel better than making my clients happy. Not just satisfied… but happy. How often do you hear “God damn, you’re doing a good job!”? At my last job, it was just about never. In a good year, I might hear a single, rather Prozac-ian “We’re glad you’re here.” But since starting my own business, I’ve had a hell of a lot of messages from exuberant clients:
“that fucking rocks!” –J.G.
“I LOVE the second version! Let’s go with that one!” –A.P.
“Got the files and they look great” –R.C
“excellent!” –D.F.
“My husband loves the invitation.” –D.M.
“Got the banner yesterday…Looks great!!!” –R.C.
“Thanks….This looks great.” –J.B.
“Thanks….it looks beautiful. Great work! I’m amazed at all the links you found!” –S.M.
“That looks GREAT!” –R.C.
… and so on.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!