AllOne NovEmbark Tour 2016: 11/29-12/1 Family Rescue During A Traveler's Crisis (Massachusetts to NYC to Albany)
AllOne NovEmbark Tour 2016: 11/29-12/1 Family Rescue During A Traveler's Crisis (Massachusetts to NYC to Albany)
Welcome back AllOne family,
I am still catching up with my NovEmbark travelogues and now am jumping between writing these tour stories (stouries?) and editing episode two of my new weekly improv rap series "Spontaneous Sundays with AllOne" which you can check out at my Youtube Page. Episode 1 features Hi-Q of Kill The Inventors and this second episode I'm editing features Nox. For now, let us return to the road, when last we were on my lone NovEmbark journey, I was leaving the Drent manor of the Lefebvre family on a precipitous night to visit my family in Saugus, MA.
11/29-11/30 Calm conversation in the small grey town of Saugus, MA
The night of Tuesday the 11/29th after saying goodbye and thanks to Drent and Libby, post-video-shoot, I drove to Saugus. It took me about an hour and a half through the rain and traffic to get there. I listened to a few enriching and fascinating podcast episodes including
Tim Ferriss: Josh Waitzkin Distilled
Criminal Episodes: "Melinda and Judy", "Melinda and Clarence" "The Shell Game"
Tim Ferris has become one of my favorite people and his actionable and inspiring interviews have helped me shape a lot of positive habits and routines in my life and clean up a lot of different foibles and inefficiencies of mine. Criminal is one of my favorite podcast series as of last year, beautifully produced and very human stories that concern themselves with intriguing examples in history both distant and recent of the grey areas of the law or simply odd and fascinating legal events and struggles. The series has succinct episodes with great narration and conversational interviews that span the emotional spectrum of hilarious to tragic. Extremely recommended, click the links above for the examples!
When I arrived in the small town of Saugus, coasting up to Uncle Ken and Aunt Pat's small house built in 1912 in the cliche New England rain, I was greeted by Aunt Pat and Skye and Josie who are small wild dogs that act (and are treated like) small bratty children. They are overprotective and bark incessantly with an insane insistence. Aunt Pat had been through a lot of medical issues this past few years and she was humbled by them as well as insightful and hopeful. She and my Uncle Ken (who works overnights so he was asleep when I arrived) put so much love into family and their dogs are now the avatars for their children they lost a decade ago so that helps to explain why they spoil their beloved canine children in a such a human way.
Over homemade cookies and milk, Aunt Pat and I spoke a long time of the importance of family, friends and community (and how those ideally are all synonyms). She speaks with a sweet Boston accent in a calm patient tone, meandering with long pauses and no trace of profanity (a stark contrast to my Uncle who has a wildly shall we say colorful sailor's parlance? In Malcolm Gladwell's "The Tipping Point" talking about good salespeople, he remarks on research that shows that people in just a few short minutes meet somewhere in the middle conversationally through cadence and micro-expressions. I thought of this as my typically high energy, spastic and zany parenthetical mode of speaking slowed down to appreciate Pat's long pauses, to draw images and conjure thoughts in those breaths and let the stretches of speech settle into my head and to simply WAIT. It was a good reminder to relax myself and appreciate more in conversation, which was paired well with my conversational lesson that morning with Libby at IHOP (what luck I have with delicious foods and good conversation with older generous women in my life!).
It's funny to think that the last time I slept in their guest room was almost five years ago in January of 2012 on my small open mic tour. In that very bed I wrote lyrics that would be come the songs "The Inevitable Effort" as well as the first verse of "Work In Progress". To lull myself to sleep I finally finished reading Isaac Asimov's "The Currents Of Space" which I enjoyed rather a lot (and only recently realized it was the second in a Space opera trilogy!).
Wednesday 11/30 A Pleasant Day's Indulgence becomes a Spontaneous Jaunt Gone Awry
I woke, showered and started reading the fascinating celebrated travelogue "Sailing Alone Around The World" by Captain Joshua Slocum in which the author recounts his unbelievable excursions in an unprecedented 3 year journey circumnavigating the globe in a 31 foot sailboat he build called The Spray. I wanted the travel and first-person writing inspiration, and for all of the reading I've done of it thus far, I'm getting it in droves! I jumped out of my bed and dashed over to Kane's Donuts which just celebrated 55 years being owned and operated by a family and even recently opened a second location in Boston! This gourmet Doughnut shop is bright and colorful, smelling sweet and delicious with an overwhelming display of decorated pastries. I got myself an apple cider doughnut and a mini-coffee roll (which is bigger than your average DD coffee roll) and picked up some eats for my aunt and uncle.
Aunt Pat and I indulged in the massive, sugary and gluttonous pastry rings over dark bitter coffee, Uncle Ken came home and we caught up over breakfast before he passed out. He is hilarious and as I mentioned earlier he is feisty and vulgar, although debilitated recently by breathing issues brought on by years of consistent smoking, he is full of character. Uncle Ken collects coins and rare currency, he survived four tours in Vietnam. I asked him about this experience, which he told me enlisting was a decision based largely on the fact that he felt he needed to leave home and his town. He found himself getting into a lot of trouble and prior generations in his family had signed up (a motivation I get into in "Desert Diaries"). He saw this opportunity to serve as an exactly that, an opportunity to do some good, to learn some things, discipline himself and have an escape from a dark circle and cycle he found himself running in. He remarks that he is astounded that he got through all four tours, as he defied all advice and would volunteer for missions and extra assignments and work before he even knew what the work was. There was a desperate need for change and an extreme form of dedication and discipline, as well as reckless abandon that was really fascinating to me. What an incredible guy and story.
On a spontaneous whim, I drove into Boston and went into this small comic shop Comicopia and picked up a couple of issues of Brian K. Vaughan's "Paper Girls" after far too much perusing. The series is a riveting sci-fi mystery period piece with four female protagonist, paper girls who time travel into a weird dystopia. Highly recommended especially if you liked the Netflix Special "Stranger Things". When I came home I started watching The Martian, which was a blast and we ordered from a family owned Italian place, Victor's which had been open for 8 years and had a great reputation in the area. Based on my experience of Veal Parm over Wild Mushroom Raviolis, I can confirm that the reputation for deliciousness was well-deserved! A month and a half later as I'm writing this I can actually still call up the tastes of that meal (during which we were all quiet in our ravenous feasting). If you're ever in the area and have a hankering for Italian but don't trust it outside of NY, I'd say head to Victor's!
Succumbing To Self-Desctructive Magnets In Panicked Mind-Shadows
That night I initially planned to perform at an open mic in Salem, MA but my absurdly talented, altruistic and deservedly internationally celebrated Beatboxer/rapper/singer/multi-instrumentalist/performer friend Kaila Mullady invited me to play an event at Le Poisson Rouge with her group The Beatbox House which made for a very sudden late-night journey to New York City to perform with that incredible group, as it was a better opportunity. I gave my hugs and kisses to my Aunt and Uncle and started on the road to NYC. I had just a few hours to get into the city and attend the show and so time was against me. Traffic was against me too! Pretty soon, I would be against me as well! Hours went by listening to podcasts and music that I did not record in the neurotic mess of what was to come. Thanks to the miracle of the GPS system on all phones, I have been able to maneuver literally and figuratively around my abysmal sense of direction. For all my imagination I have a terrible time abstracting direction and geography in my mind and so I am so prone to getting lost that it is a recurring joke among anyone who knows me even a little bit (or at least one relied on my ability to arrive somewhere).
I managed to make it to the city just as the show was scheduled to start. Anyone who lives inside or outside of the city will tell you that driving through the dizzying, ornery technicolor maximalist metropolis is a nightmare. Now I was doing so in a rush. This is a recipe for a psychological meltdown. All of a sudden my fuse was shorter. I seemed to have sponged up the angry attitude of the cliche New York driver. The rain poured down, the cars honked loudly, I had to shut off my radio in that seemingly silly way to avoid distraction of one sense so that my other unrelated sense could concentrate on simple turns and directions. I found the venue finally! I couldn't find a parking spot. I started flashing back to all troubles I had a year or so ago when I couldn't find parking spots at shows and nearly missed them or actually missed them and then why I boycotted the city out of need to maintain my own fragile sanity. I dove dark into my head. All my insecurities were dredged up. Some of my inner diatribe looked like this:
"You're not good enough to perform with these legends-in-the-flesh!"
"they do fun and impressive organic talents, your style is overwrought, no fun and forced."
"You're going to show up late and people will be mad at you"
"What if you don't have enough money for the parking garage and your car gets stuck?"
"You're showing up to plug in a laptop to play beats when you're in a room of professional mouth-musicians?!"
Then it stopped being just about the logistics of the show and moved into more personal territory...
"Kaila is just doing you a favor, no one really wants you on this bill, or cares"
"Why are you on this tour? You're a joke"
"You're nearly 30 years old, you're traveling around playing open mics, you're a loser."
"How presumptuous and selfish of you to make a life of sharing creations, so self indulgent to make yourself into a commodity"
"your work is pretentious and derivative nonsense, you take yourself too seriously"
Meanwhile my head ached, my chest felt tight and my stomach churned while my anger seethed. My self loathing took on all sorts of shapes and sizes. The rain seemed to try coming down harder than I was on myself while parking spaces and lots were more evasive than my self esteem. Then I started critiquing myself for critiquing myself.
"Oh jeez are you really having some sort of breakdown right now?"
"You have it so easy you are privileged and have no problems in life, you're driving into the best city in the world to do what you love with people you love and you're freaking out?"
"Are you really so stupid as to not be able to just find a spot?"
"Oh wow mister publicly uplifting and positive is having a big hypocritical (and hyper critical) breakdown, now THAT is poetry!"
"You big baby, you know and love people with anxiety and depression and real problems, fighting illnesses and poverty and here you are, trivializing their issues freaking out dramatically about a parking spot and being tardy to an amazing opportunity?"
"You know how many people would PAY money for this chance, harder working people who are hungrier than you and you're just going to blow it?"
I did my best to muster up some psychological fortification against these maligning specters of self-doubt. I tried reminding myself that I decide all my emotions and I AM NOT MY EMOTIONS, I just have them and they are fleeting reactions that can be controlled, but this did not help. The effects of this brutal barrage of self-flagellation seemed to build off one another exponentially. I started rethinking my entire life and feeling foolish about this creative independent path I'd chosen. Clearly I wasn't cut out for it, I thought. I am ashamed to admit that I texted Kaila and let her know that I was having a sort of bizarre personal crisis and could not make it, that I'm so sorry and I hope her night goes well and I'm really grateful for the opportunity despite what my pathetic retraction and resignation would seem to imply. I drove back home, exhausted, now 7 hours in the car, fatigued, defeated, crying and feeling deeply isolated and shameful.
I arrived at my house finally, my roommates were surprised to see me and I was evasive and had few words to say (for once in my life), no perspective to articulately present these ideas from and no energy with which to explain myself or engage much. I mumbled vagueness and apologies. I sauntered off to my room. I too was bewildered that just that afternoon I was happy in little Saugus with my aunt and Uncle, and how far I had come just to go nowhere at all. On a "tour" I was yet again back to Long Island. I felt like a failure, I felt physically heavy and yet emotionally drained. I was useless and overwhelmed. I collapsed in my bed, not caring when or if I woke up. I had no plans for the next day and laughed at the prospect that I could possibly execute them or would be deserving of any positive experience. I fell asleep into fever dreams, nauseous at the drama and the thought of my own perpetuation of it.
Thursday 12/1: Waking Up Figuratively and literally, the fortitude of family and a return to Albany
I woke up in my house bewildered from the emotional hurricane of last night. I intentionally slept through my roommates schedules so I could avoid them. I decided I needed good energy and I needed to keep moving and doing things otherwise I'd fall into the trap of self-perpetuated stagnation. An emotional quicksand pit where every grain is a sediment of saddened sentiment. I called my grandmother up, who lives out by the city (yes, chiding myself for having driven an hour past her last night) and asked if she was free for lunch. She would be a loving presence to be around, a friend, a non-judgmental ear should I choose to expand on my issues or fine company if I chose to keep my low moment to myself. We agreed to meet, I showered, I swapped out some clean clothes and got myself feeling fresh, making external changes in hopes to inwardly reflect that too. Seems hokey right? Well, I'd rather be cheesy and hokey than feel like shit wouldn't you? I met my Grandma for a brunch, she is so funny and gentle and loving. We went to try the spanish restaurant in the strip mall adjacent to her house and clumsily ordered with no understanding of what we were getting and saying. There was a humbling and embarrassing language barrier. Grandma and I caught up over the delicious and strange food and I began to feel better. I realized that it was thursday, meaning that the Hudson River Coffee House that I played at on my Onederlust tour had an open mic still. My cousin Erica who I love but rarely get to spend a lot of time with now lives in Albany. Suddenly another adventure opportunity presented itself to me. Grandma laughed at my excitement and capriciousness as I called Erica and told her my idea, she said that she'd be happy to host me and would meet me at the coffeehouse. Just like that, I had an opportunity, a purpose, a mission and something to work forward to! It was that easy. Adventuring and plan making is always that easy if you choose it to be!
Grandma packed me up with all sorts of snack vittles for traveling, as is the nature of her and all generously maternal grandmothers probably since there was a third generation in existence. With lunch had, conversation volleyed then kisses and well wishes I was on my way. I was off! I drove for a few hours listening to Steven Dubner's Tell Me Something I Don't Know podcast as well as the investigative journalism podcast Revealed on my way up, two sources of knowledge from the opposite ends of the emotional spectrum, TMSIDK is whimsical trivia information with charming personalities and a game show sort of set up and then Revealed is a very stern and informative reporting program that is very sobering and eye opening in the shocking subjects of its presentations. In it a learned about some of the wild things that occur in the ridiculous set up of Welfare systems. On my drive at lights (dubiously advisable I know) I penned a bit of a verse that will probably end up in a song at some point, reflective of my travels, both the joy, the cynicism, the strangeness that being alone on the road induces...(by the way, if you read this blog, thank you...I was obviously full of doubt and not talking about you when I wrote this...)
"Groggy and weary, I start talking to Siri,
arguing weirdly serious, obviously delirious
oddly concocting preposterous theories
logging my thoughts for a blog ya'll are not really reading
chicken scratch in a moleskine
in a lap with one hand jotting and steering,
eyes irritated.
I irritable.
thank you cruise control.
no thanks ruthless tolls!
Content to contend with two bridge trolls
as opposed to spending tender to bridge tolls
shit, who would know?!
The miles amalgamate,
as does every calendar date,
but smiles, towns and faces,
all enrich me to a grounded state
when I'm out of state, I'm proud to say..."
I arrived at the venue feeling nostalgic and in disbelief that it had been two and a half years since I last visited. The artsy bohemian vibe of the garden level cafe that doubles as a performance space and an art gallery of sorts for various mediums was blessedly still intact! This cafe is a gem. Anton is a young man who owns the place, he is encouraging, kindhearted and surprisingly young! I learned that this open mic was the 301st consecutive weekly open mic they had thrown there... how incredible!! Poets, comedians and musicians of all styles were performing originals, covers and jamming! Erica met me with a friend and we hung out by my little makeshift merch table. I performed "Zoned Out" and "Travel Baggage (Carry On)" to which the impressively crammed and jam-packed room of folks both young and old responded to very very well! A lot of people came up to me after with questions and bought albums and tapes and took stickers. It was a great feeling and I noted that there was such a contrast to my feeling from last night and thought of all the support I have if I just reach out for it either with family and people I know, or as was evidenced here, with people I don't even know! It felt amazing to be There was even a beat-boxer named Alex Martin who had a friend Chiggy who played guitar and he invited me up after my set to freestyle with them so I did and that improv session actually went over really well! Catching up with Erica and seeing all the creative energy and taking in the art and the performance was just such an uplifting experience and a very efficacious panacea for me.
After that, I retired to my cousin Erica's apartment. Erica is the next oldest person in our generation in the family. She is an inspiring and remarkable human being. From the onset of her life, she has been completely emotionally wonderful, with such a strong degree of empathy and compassion for others. She drives herself to work so hard and accomplishes everything she puts her mind to with seemingly Herculean psychological fortitude. Her strength and determination, as well as her brilliance is certainly a genetic blessing passed down from our Poppy (for whom Pennsylvanian Patriarch was written). She recently passed the Bar exam on her first try and is working hard to make change for those who need it. Her apartment was very neat, clean and classy. She and her kind roommate Brittany whose lengthy study session we interrupted upon arrival were already decorated for Christmas. We chatted for a while about life, our love lives and thinking about career trajectory and what we can best do for the world with our skill sets and what we enjoy most. We sort of tried to digest and process the story that I just told you, the weird sinking into depression in the midst of nearly capitalizing on an amazing opportunity to do yet another thing that I loved and what my weakness and sadness meant. I think we surmised that it amounted to nothing, sometimes we just have weak moments and we just have to accept them and push past them. "Keep Pushing // Pull Through" as the immortally inked reminder on my forearms suggests from my song "Brainstorm Of The Century". All these lyrics and word-musings are just reminders for me anyway while I process this wacky ride linguistically. I curled up in my sleeping bag after finishing reading the incredible Volume 2 of Brian K Vaughan's "Paper Girls".
By the time I woke up, Erica was racing around to leave for work, she gave me a pile of snacks to leave (Guess she got aspects of both of our grandparent's good traits!) and told me to make coffee and/or do whatever I need to do. We exchanged hugs and gratitude. It's rare that I get to spend time with her and it was nice to just connect and share insight and philosophy and laughs as two grown human beings. It is thrilling and inspiring to know that I share blood with someone who is so driven, gifted and loving. I get myself some tasty bars, drank coffee out of an adorable porcupine mug and took turns writing morning notes/ideas and reading more of Paper Girls. I packed my items shortly after and headed off to revisit Syracuse to perform at Funk N Waffles feeling uplifted and hopeful.
These travelogues will continue in another final chapter in my upstate NY journeys, coming soon! As always, thank you for reading, I hope you found some new media that you can enjoy and some nuggets of inspiration here and there in these meandering ramblings! I love you dearly.
Welcome back AllOne family,
I am still catching up with my NovEmbark travelogues and now am jumping between writing these tour stories (stouries?) and editing episode two of my new weekly improv rap series "Spontaneous Sundays with AllOne" which you can check out at my Youtube Page. Episode 1 features Hi-Q of Kill The Inventors and this second episode I'm editing features Nox. For now, let us return to the road, when last we were on my lone NovEmbark journey, I was leaving the Drent manor of the Lefebvre family on a precipitous night to visit my family in Saugus, MA.
11/29-11/30 Calm conversation in the small grey town of Saugus, MA
The night of Tuesday the 11/29th after saying goodbye and thanks to Drent and Libby, post-video-shoot, I drove to Saugus. It took me about an hour and a half through the rain and traffic to get there. I listened to a few enriching and fascinating podcast episodes including
Tim Ferriss: Josh Waitzkin Distilled
Criminal Episodes: "Melinda and Judy", "Melinda and Clarence" "The Shell Game"
Tim Ferris has become one of my favorite people and his actionable and inspiring interviews have helped me shape a lot of positive habits and routines in my life and clean up a lot of different foibles and inefficiencies of mine. Criminal is one of my favorite podcast series as of last year, beautifully produced and very human stories that concern themselves with intriguing examples in history both distant and recent of the grey areas of the law or simply odd and fascinating legal events and struggles. The series has succinct episodes with great narration and conversational interviews that span the emotional spectrum of hilarious to tragic. Extremely recommended, click the links above for the examples!
When I arrived in the small town of Saugus, coasting up to Uncle Ken and Aunt Pat's small house built in 1912 in the cliche New England rain, I was greeted by Aunt Pat and Skye and Josie who are small wild dogs that act (and are treated like) small bratty children. They are overprotective and bark incessantly with an insane insistence. Aunt Pat had been through a lot of medical issues this past few years and she was humbled by them as well as insightful and hopeful. She and my Uncle Ken (who works overnights so he was asleep when I arrived) put so much love into family and their dogs are now the avatars for their children they lost a decade ago so that helps to explain why they spoil their beloved canine children in a such a human way.
Over homemade cookies and milk, Aunt Pat and I spoke a long time of the importance of family, friends and community (and how those ideally are all synonyms). She speaks with a sweet Boston accent in a calm patient tone, meandering with long pauses and no trace of profanity (a stark contrast to my Uncle who has a wildly shall we say colorful sailor's parlance? In Malcolm Gladwell's "The Tipping Point" talking about good salespeople, he remarks on research that shows that people in just a few short minutes meet somewhere in the middle conversationally through cadence and micro-expressions. I thought of this as my typically high energy, spastic and zany parenthetical mode of speaking slowed down to appreciate Pat's long pauses, to draw images and conjure thoughts in those breaths and let the stretches of speech settle into my head and to simply WAIT. It was a good reminder to relax myself and appreciate more in conversation, which was paired well with my conversational lesson that morning with Libby at IHOP (what luck I have with delicious foods and good conversation with older generous women in my life!).
It's funny to think that the last time I slept in their guest room was almost five years ago in January of 2012 on my small open mic tour. In that very bed I wrote lyrics that would be come the songs "The Inevitable Effort" as well as the first verse of "Work In Progress". To lull myself to sleep I finally finished reading Isaac Asimov's "The Currents Of Space" which I enjoyed rather a lot (and only recently realized it was the second in a Space opera trilogy!).
Wednesday 11/30 A Pleasant Day's Indulgence becomes a Spontaneous Jaunt Gone Awry
I woke, showered and started reading the fascinating celebrated travelogue "Sailing Alone Around The World" by Captain Joshua Slocum in which the author recounts his unbelievable excursions in an unprecedented 3 year journey circumnavigating the globe in a 31 foot sailboat he build called The Spray. I wanted the travel and first-person writing inspiration, and for all of the reading I've done of it thus far, I'm getting it in droves! I jumped out of my bed and dashed over to Kane's Donuts which just celebrated 55 years being owned and operated by a family and even recently opened a second location in Boston! This gourmet Doughnut shop is bright and colorful, smelling sweet and delicious with an overwhelming display of decorated pastries. I got myself an apple cider doughnut and a mini-coffee roll (which is bigger than your average DD coffee roll) and picked up some eats for my aunt and uncle.
Aunt Pat and I indulged in the massive, sugary and gluttonous pastry rings over dark bitter coffee, Uncle Ken came home and we caught up over breakfast before he passed out. He is hilarious and as I mentioned earlier he is feisty and vulgar, although debilitated recently by breathing issues brought on by years of consistent smoking, he is full of character. Uncle Ken collects coins and rare currency, he survived four tours in Vietnam. I asked him about this experience, which he told me enlisting was a decision based largely on the fact that he felt he needed to leave home and his town. He found himself getting into a lot of trouble and prior generations in his family had signed up (a motivation I get into in "Desert Diaries"). He saw this opportunity to serve as an exactly that, an opportunity to do some good, to learn some things, discipline himself and have an escape from a dark circle and cycle he found himself running in. He remarks that he is astounded that he got through all four tours, as he defied all advice and would volunteer for missions and extra assignments and work before he even knew what the work was. There was a desperate need for change and an extreme form of dedication and discipline, as well as reckless abandon that was really fascinating to me. What an incredible guy and story.
On a spontaneous whim, I drove into Boston and went into this small comic shop Comicopia and picked up a couple of issues of Brian K. Vaughan's "Paper Girls" after far too much perusing. The series is a riveting sci-fi mystery period piece with four female protagonist, paper girls who time travel into a weird dystopia. Highly recommended especially if you liked the Netflix Special "Stranger Things". When I came home I started watching The Martian, which was a blast and we ordered from a family owned Italian place, Victor's which had been open for 8 years and had a great reputation in the area. Based on my experience of Veal Parm over Wild Mushroom Raviolis, I can confirm that the reputation for deliciousness was well-deserved! A month and a half later as I'm writing this I can actually still call up the tastes of that meal (during which we were all quiet in our ravenous feasting). If you're ever in the area and have a hankering for Italian but don't trust it outside of NY, I'd say head to Victor's!
Succumbing To Self-Desctructive Magnets In Panicked Mind-Shadows
That night I initially planned to perform at an open mic in Salem, MA but my absurdly talented, altruistic and deservedly internationally celebrated Beatboxer/rapper/singer/multi-instrumentalist/performer friend Kaila Mullady invited me to play an event at Le Poisson Rouge with her group The Beatbox House which made for a very sudden late-night journey to New York City to perform with that incredible group, as it was a better opportunity. I gave my hugs and kisses to my Aunt and Uncle and started on the road to NYC. I had just a few hours to get into the city and attend the show and so time was against me. Traffic was against me too! Pretty soon, I would be against me as well! Hours went by listening to podcasts and music that I did not record in the neurotic mess of what was to come. Thanks to the miracle of the GPS system on all phones, I have been able to maneuver literally and figuratively around my abysmal sense of direction. For all my imagination I have a terrible time abstracting direction and geography in my mind and so I am so prone to getting lost that it is a recurring joke among anyone who knows me even a little bit (or at least one relied on my ability to arrive somewhere).
I managed to make it to the city just as the show was scheduled to start. Anyone who lives inside or outside of the city will tell you that driving through the dizzying, ornery technicolor maximalist metropolis is a nightmare. Now I was doing so in a rush. This is a recipe for a psychological meltdown. All of a sudden my fuse was shorter. I seemed to have sponged up the angry attitude of the cliche New York driver. The rain poured down, the cars honked loudly, I had to shut off my radio in that seemingly silly way to avoid distraction of one sense so that my other unrelated sense could concentrate on simple turns and directions. I found the venue finally! I couldn't find a parking spot. I started flashing back to all troubles I had a year or so ago when I couldn't find parking spots at shows and nearly missed them or actually missed them and then why I boycotted the city out of need to maintain my own fragile sanity. I dove dark into my head. All my insecurities were dredged up. Some of my inner diatribe looked like this:
"You're not good enough to perform with these legends-in-the-flesh!"
"they do fun and impressive organic talents, your style is overwrought, no fun and forced."
"You're going to show up late and people will be mad at you"
"What if you don't have enough money for the parking garage and your car gets stuck?"
"You're showing up to plug in a laptop to play beats when you're in a room of professional mouth-musicians?!"
Then it stopped being just about the logistics of the show and moved into more personal territory...
"Kaila is just doing you a favor, no one really wants you on this bill, or cares"
"Why are you on this tour? You're a joke"
"You're nearly 30 years old, you're traveling around playing open mics, you're a loser."
"How presumptuous and selfish of you to make a life of sharing creations, so self indulgent to make yourself into a commodity"
"your work is pretentious and derivative nonsense, you take yourself too seriously"
Meanwhile my head ached, my chest felt tight and my stomach churned while my anger seethed. My self loathing took on all sorts of shapes and sizes. The rain seemed to try coming down harder than I was on myself while parking spaces and lots were more evasive than my self esteem. Then I started critiquing myself for critiquing myself.
"Oh jeez are you really having some sort of breakdown right now?"
"You have it so easy you are privileged and have no problems in life, you're driving into the best city in the world to do what you love with people you love and you're freaking out?"
"Are you really so stupid as to not be able to just find a spot?"
"Oh wow mister publicly uplifting and positive is having a big hypocritical (and hyper critical) breakdown, now THAT is poetry!"
"You big baby, you know and love people with anxiety and depression and real problems, fighting illnesses and poverty and here you are, trivializing their issues freaking out dramatically about a parking spot and being tardy to an amazing opportunity?"
"You know how many people would PAY money for this chance, harder working people who are hungrier than you and you're just going to blow it?"
I did my best to muster up some psychological fortification against these maligning specters of self-doubt. I tried reminding myself that I decide all my emotions and I AM NOT MY EMOTIONS, I just have them and they are fleeting reactions that can be controlled, but this did not help. The effects of this brutal barrage of self-flagellation seemed to build off one another exponentially. I started rethinking my entire life and feeling foolish about this creative independent path I'd chosen. Clearly I wasn't cut out for it, I thought. I am ashamed to admit that I texted Kaila and let her know that I was having a sort of bizarre personal crisis and could not make it, that I'm so sorry and I hope her night goes well and I'm really grateful for the opportunity despite what my pathetic retraction and resignation would seem to imply. I drove back home, exhausted, now 7 hours in the car, fatigued, defeated, crying and feeling deeply isolated and shameful.
I arrived at my house finally, my roommates were surprised to see me and I was evasive and had few words to say (for once in my life), no perspective to articulately present these ideas from and no energy with which to explain myself or engage much. I mumbled vagueness and apologies. I sauntered off to my room. I too was bewildered that just that afternoon I was happy in little Saugus with my aunt and Uncle, and how far I had come just to go nowhere at all. On a "tour" I was yet again back to Long Island. I felt like a failure, I felt physically heavy and yet emotionally drained. I was useless and overwhelmed. I collapsed in my bed, not caring when or if I woke up. I had no plans for the next day and laughed at the prospect that I could possibly execute them or would be deserving of any positive experience. I fell asleep into fever dreams, nauseous at the drama and the thought of my own perpetuation of it.
Thursday 12/1: Waking Up Figuratively and literally, the fortitude of family and a return to Albany
I woke up in my house bewildered from the emotional hurricane of last night. I intentionally slept through my roommates schedules so I could avoid them. I decided I needed good energy and I needed to keep moving and doing things otherwise I'd fall into the trap of self-perpetuated stagnation. An emotional quicksand pit where every grain is a sediment of saddened sentiment. I called my grandmother up, who lives out by the city (yes, chiding myself for having driven an hour past her last night) and asked if she was free for lunch. She would be a loving presence to be around, a friend, a non-judgmental ear should I choose to expand on my issues or fine company if I chose to keep my low moment to myself. We agreed to meet, I showered, I swapped out some clean clothes and got myself feeling fresh, making external changes in hopes to inwardly reflect that too. Seems hokey right? Well, I'd rather be cheesy and hokey than feel like shit wouldn't you? I met my Grandma for a brunch, she is so funny and gentle and loving. We went to try the spanish restaurant in the strip mall adjacent to her house and clumsily ordered with no understanding of what we were getting and saying. There was a humbling and embarrassing language barrier. Grandma and I caught up over the delicious and strange food and I began to feel better. I realized that it was thursday, meaning that the Hudson River Coffee House that I played at on my Onederlust tour had an open mic still. My cousin Erica who I love but rarely get to spend a lot of time with now lives in Albany. Suddenly another adventure opportunity presented itself to me. Grandma laughed at my excitement and capriciousness as I called Erica and told her my idea, she said that she'd be happy to host me and would meet me at the coffeehouse. Just like that, I had an opportunity, a purpose, a mission and something to work forward to! It was that easy. Adventuring and plan making is always that easy if you choose it to be!
Grandma packed me up with all sorts of snack vittles for traveling, as is the nature of her and all generously maternal grandmothers probably since there was a third generation in existence. With lunch had, conversation volleyed then kisses and well wishes I was on my way. I was off! I drove for a few hours listening to Steven Dubner's Tell Me Something I Don't Know podcast as well as the investigative journalism podcast Revealed on my way up, two sources of knowledge from the opposite ends of the emotional spectrum, TMSIDK is whimsical trivia information with charming personalities and a game show sort of set up and then Revealed is a very stern and informative reporting program that is very sobering and eye opening in the shocking subjects of its presentations. In it a learned about some of the wild things that occur in the ridiculous set up of Welfare systems. On my drive at lights (dubiously advisable I know) I penned a bit of a verse that will probably end up in a song at some point, reflective of my travels, both the joy, the cynicism, the strangeness that being alone on the road induces...(by the way, if you read this blog, thank you...I was obviously full of doubt and not talking about you when I wrote this...)"Groggy and weary, I start talking to Siri,
arguing weirdly serious, obviously deliriousoddly concocting preposterous theories
logging my thoughts for a blog ya'll are not really reading
chicken scratch in a moleskine
in a lap with one hand jotting and steering,
eyes irritated.
I irritable.
thank you cruise control.
no thanks ruthless tolls!
Content to contend with two bridge trolls
as opposed to spending tender to bridge tolls
shit, who would know?!
The miles amalgamate,
as does every calendar date,
but smiles, towns and faces,
all enrich me to a grounded state
when I'm out of state, I'm proud to say..."
I arrived at the venue feeling nostalgic and in disbelief that it had been two and a half years since I last visited. The artsy bohemian vibe of the garden level cafe that doubles as a performance space and an art gallery of sorts for various mediums was blessedly still intact! This cafe is a gem. Anton is a young man who owns the place, he is encouraging, kindhearted and surprisingly young! I learned that this open mic was the 301st consecutive weekly open mic they had thrown there... how incredible!! Poets, comedians and musicians of all styles were performing originals, covers and jamming! Erica met me with a friend and we hung out by my little makeshift merch table. I performed "Zoned Out" and "Travel Baggage (Carry On)" to which the impressively crammed and jam-packed room of folks both young and old responded to very very well! A lot of people came up to me after with questions and bought albums and tapes and took stickers. It was a great feeling and I noted that there was such a contrast to my feeling from last night and thought of all the support I have if I just reach out for it either with family and people I know, or as was evidenced here, with people I don't even know! It felt amazing to be There was even a beat-boxer named Alex Martin who had a friend Chiggy who played guitar and he invited me up after my set to freestyle with them so I did and that improv session actually went over really well! Catching up with Erica and seeing all the creative energy and taking in the art and the performance was just such an uplifting experience and a very efficacious panacea for me.
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| Performing at Hudson River Coffee House, Albany. Photo by Erica Pandolfo. |
By the time I woke up, Erica was racing around to leave for work, she gave me a pile of snacks to leave (Guess she got aspects of both of our grandparent's good traits!) and told me to make coffee and/or do whatever I need to do. We exchanged hugs and gratitude. It's rare that I get to spend time with her and it was nice to just connect and share insight and philosophy and laughs as two grown human beings. It is thrilling and inspiring to know that I share blood with someone who is so driven, gifted and loving. I get myself some tasty bars, drank coffee out of an adorable porcupine mug and took turns writing morning notes/ideas and reading more of Paper Girls. I packed my items shortly after and headed off to revisit Syracuse to perform at Funk N Waffles feeling uplifted and hopeful.
These travelogues will continue in another final chapter in my upstate NY journeys, coming soon! As always, thank you for reading, I hope you found some new media that you can enjoy and some nuggets of inspiration here and there in these meandering ramblings! I love you dearly.
Working on your love is still work,
but the ends may justify the means.
You are not defined by your lowest moments
but your reactions will define how long those moments last.
Why fear reaching out if you're already feeling stretch thin?
...Keep Pushing & Pull Through...
-Bruce "AllOne" Pandolfo
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| Erica and I at her August graduation party! |
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