treatise

I was talking via Skype to my brother the other day (which meant I could see him but he couldn't see me, because I have no camera) - and I thank him for making me laugh harder than I have in a very long time - we realized that there's a guy with his exact name (first name is common, but last name is not) who works in television in LA (as he does), and there's a woman with my exact name (first name is common, but last name is not) who is a musician here on the east coast (as I am). What are the chances? For me, it's already caused problems that aren't even interesting enough to go into, but they're problems nonetheless. She is the daughter of a cousin of mine. And he knew very well I existed when his daughter was born. Why he HAD to use the first name Amy (which isn't particularly compelling), I'll never know. But it's become problematic. I have to always make sure that my domain name is renewed (which I did this week) and correct confused people who wonder who she is (which happened recently re: a teaching proposal I put together). Suck it, other person with my name!

Author David Foster Wallace committed suicide recently (please read this article). Though I haven't read much of his stuff, I can tell that he was a writer's writer and much revered by his colleagues. I'm actually reading The Discomfort Zone right now, by his friend Jonathan Franzen, who writes with a similar emotional frankness. Here's a guy who was successful, respected by readers and peers alike, had what seemed like a great marriage, and he could not shake the depression. For years he struggled. And he could not find a way out of the dark, so he found a way out. It sounds like his family got that, though of course they're devastated. His sister said:

"Inevitably our thought was, if only he could have held on a little bit longer," says sister Amy. "And then we realized, he did. How many extra weeks had he hung in there when he just couldn't bear it? So we're not angry at him. Not at all. We just miss him."

This is not something I generally talk here about because people don't want to hear or read this stuff (watch how the comment count stays at zero) because it's uncomfortable. What's disheartening to me is that smart people and even some therapists don't seem to understand how deep and dark (depression) is. There is so much blaming the victim that goes on, even from professionals. Their compassion and professionalism seems to erode when they don't get the results they want in the time period they want. People I know who would NEVER suggest that being gay is a choice assume that being depressed is a choice. Fact is, NEITHER are choices. As I said to A:

I am also amazed that even therapists don't even seem to understand how deep and dark and how many tendrils depression bores into you, and how it's not just something you snap out of, even after years of struggle. It doesn't just go away with the right meds or having a wife (like he did) or professional success (like he had).

There is an element of comfort to it because it's what you know. That is DIFFERENT than wanting it. And people deal with it differently. C lashes out at people and treats them like crap. I internalize. Foster Wallace reached his limit. And I can only speak for myself, but I'd take a bucket full of drugs each day if they made me feel better. That's an issue I don't really wish to talk about, but it speaks to motivation that we (people suffering from depression) are often accused of not having or of forgoing. I am motivated.

What's horrible and fascinating is to watch people that supposedly love you fall away or give up. Most are likely operating under the "she just doesn't want to be happy, so I'm out of here" principle, but some likely don't know what to do or say, so it's easier to disengage than to continue to engage. How many people who loved Foster Wallace reached that point, distanced themselves from him, and now in death revere him? Do they feel a sense of relief (that he's gone), one that they'd never admit to anyone else? Maybe.

R and I have a mutual friend, an incredibly talented guitar player, who has suffered from depression for decades. He's tried to commit suicide at least a few times. Unlike me, he's always been very frank about what he's dealing with. Lately, R says, he's a new man. He's on some new medication and therapy that has really helped turn things around for him. I'm so glad and hope that things hold steady. I think the answers are often out there, but missed because of incompetent therapists and prescribing MDs with too little information about how psychotropic drugs do and don't work. Truly effective therapists often don't take insurance and are wildly expensive ($200/hr or more), making them out of reach for most people, especially when a recommended level of treatment is 1-2 times per week.

I don't know what our friend's chances are statistically. I don't know what mine are. But the fact that he's still here despite how he's suffered is, to ME, a testament to his strength, not his weakness. To suggest that one WANTS to live in an emotional abyss is beyond insulting. Yet it's a commonly held belief. It lets people off the hook when they decide they've reached their limits with (a depressed person). So if you know someone who is depressed, please try to look beyond your assumptions. Spend some time with them. Don't disappear. It will mean the world.

"The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day." -David Foster Wallace

Foster Wallace gave the commencement speech at my college in 2005. Here is the transcript.

joyful

Via Penn on Facebook, this video of a David Byrne song is absolutely brilliant and adorable. Watch closely for the Pong tribute, too.

followups from last entry

1. So, yay, Bryan Cranston actually won a Best Actor Emmy last night for his work in "Breaking Bad", the show I just mentioned. He deserves it. The Emmys were fairly awful, though I did enjoy the "Laugh-In" bit with original cast members. But that's because I'm old.
   
   
2. The Melting Pot experience was kinda crazy. So much food. I was once more feeling sick before I left to go there, and I almost canceled. Because of that, I wasn't that hungry when I was there, but it was good nonetheless. Our server was very good and knew her stuff, though she did recite everything in an amusement park, "please keep all hands in the car and don't stand up until the ride comes to a complete stop" type of voice. Like it was completely scripted and she'd said it a million times before, which I'm guessing was actually the case.
   

on bras and red meat

I have a love/hate relationship with red meat. I like it sometimes, though there's an undeniable ick factor there that never goes away (which is why I don't eat other meats beyond fish*, chicken and beef and very rarely, pork). For years, I didn't eat red meat at all, but now I sometimes do, though I have only made it at home a few times. I will get it when I go out.

But often, red meat does not like me. It just doesn't do good things to me. Last night I had some and then went to a movie and, half an hour in, I had to leave the movie and go home. My stomach hurt so much and I thought I was going to throw up, something I haven't done in years. Today I feel ok. But I'm thinking that I need to cut out red meat again or really make it a rare (no pun intended) occurrence. That'll be better for me anyways. I'm already down some 15 lbs.

That said, I'm going to The Melting Pot tomorrow. And there may be some red meat involved.

Somewhat related, I went to see my nurse practitioner recently, and she had me have blood drawn. Just got the results, and everything's fine except that my white blood cell count is up. I wonder if this is related to my recent desire to eat red meat. They're going to draw it again to see if it comes out that way the second time. And if it does...I'm not sure what it indicates.

I also had a mammogram yesterday. It was the first regular followup after having to have a surgical biopsy last year. I've decided that the mammogram isn't as bad as the waiting room experience. Why? Because they make you put on a johnny, or a gown, and it never quite closes correctly, and then you're sitting, bra-less, in a waiting room with lots of other women. Yesterday's visit was compounded by the fact that "Malcolm In The Middle" was on the TV. And I despise that show, mostly because it consists of the mother SCREECHING and then SCREECHING, and that's followed up by some SCREECHING. Luckily, Bryan Cranston has moved on to "Breaking Bad", which is a fabulous new show with a nice, pleasant spouse.

But I digress. Those of us who are, I'd say, larger than a C cup are NOT comfortable bra-less. In fact, it's quite uncomfortable. This means that strapless things and little spaghetti strap things are out unless you get some sort of special architectural marvel of a bra to wear under them. So you're sitting there in this not-closing gown, bra-less, in a crowded, hot room with some screeching harpie on TV. Compared to that, the mammogram itself was downright pleasant. And afterwards, well, I was never so happy to be reunited with my bra. May we never be parted again (until there's a good reason for it, which...well, there are some good reasons...)

That's a picture of my current favorite bra, by the way. Please don't ever leave me, Vanity Fair Body Superior.

*And no, you are NOT a vegetarian if you eat fish. Man, that annoys me.

The Way

No, just no. And by that I mean, YES! And - the whole song!

millionaire salad

Millionaire salad, five cup salad or ambrosia, it's still yummy. I think you should make some today.

Yield:
12 servings (serving size: 1/2 cup)
Ingredients

* 2 cups miniature marshmallows
* 1 cup flaked sweetened coconut
* 2 (11-ounce) cans mandarin oranges in light syrup, drained
* 1 (20-ounce) can crushed pineapple in juice, drained
* 1 (8-ounce) carton low-fat sour cream
* 1 (8-ounce) carton plain fat-free yogurt

Preparation:
Combine all ingredients in a large bowl. Cover and chill.

big expensive circle

I just made a big geographical circle, spending money all the way. I first went to one gas station and got new wiper blades (first time I've replaced them on this car) and gas: $50; then dropped off a change of address for elections (free!) and gas bill ($100) at the post office; then to another gas station that has a car wash ($10); then to deposit a small check ($50); and get a sandwich ($6). So I spent $166 in one fell swoop and deposited $50. Total debit: $116. Ow.

Although, my old cell phone has been received by Flipswap, so I should get a check soon. Wee!

I really need some hope now. There may be some on the horizon, but I best not talk about it yet.

you win

you dropped a quarter in my car
i saved it
segregated
from the other coins
sentimental fool
today i put that quarter
in a meter downtown
it bought me 15 minutes
of a 90 minute block
indistinguishable
from the other quarters

I needed that

I recently went to a pet store here in town for the first time, specifically looking for some premium cat food. Most of the cat food (and other pet foods) in grocery or big pet stores is mostly fillers like corn. It's food that is comprised mostly of corn or other grains that aren't beneficial to animals but keeps them alive. So the guy at the store recommended this Solid Gold Katz-n-Flocken (yes, I know!) food, which is a lamb-based food. Look at the list of ingredients in that link. Good stuff. If you compare to lesser foods, you'll see a big difference in ingredients.

So actually, he'd recommended something else first that they didn't like, but they do love the Katz-n-Flocken. Lamby delicious. And it's fairly high in fat, which is good, as I'm trying to get Shirley to gain. Problem was that after the first time I got it, they never had it in. The same guy kept telling me it was supposed to come in but hadn't, and he didn't know when it would actually come.

So, down to the dregs of the chicken-based food I'd gotten as a sub, which they didn't like much, I found a store in Salem that actually had what I wanted, and went over there today. Fascinating as all this surely is to you, all of this is a setup to tell you that the store owner, when he saw my name on the credit cards, said, "You're the singer, right?" and then went on to tell me how he used to be a DJ and he loved the song I did w/Raymond, "Let The Wind Blow", and he used to play it all the time, and how he even played it in his store sometimes, etc. He seemed so happy to meet me, which was so nice. I think I really needed to hear that, since I'm feeling so low owing to this week's...situation and just feeling like I'm working hard to reclaim my life as a musician. So, thanks Katz-n-Flocken. And Jeff at The Barking Cat.

uh huh

As a side note, I'd be very interested to see a comparison of children raised by parents (who are) open about sexuality, who deliberately and early on teach their kids about sex, its consequences, and birth control (when necessary) in a frank manner - such as my parents did - vs. children whose parents told them nothing, or left it to the schools or their peers, or told them to remain "pure" until marriage. I'm guessing that the incidence of teen pregnancies, let alone unhealthy sexual adults, is MUCH higher in the families where there's secrecy, fear, and no sex ed. Using myself as an example again, none of the kids in my family ever had an abortion, had children out of wedlock, had affairs, and noone's gotten divorced. And my family was VERY open about sex, did not forbid premarital sex, but made it clear that there's a time when you're READY, and you're probably not ready as a teen, etc. Open lines of communication, frank talk, no religious fear or guilt. It actually WORKS. The opposite does NOT. See: Bristol Palin.

wherein the lesson is: don't say "maybe next time"

This past week has been horrific and interesting. I'm still processing through both halves of it. I can't talk about the horrific stuff. And it's really painful. What positive I can wrench out of it (as of today) is that I've lost about 15 lbs due to stress (and walking). Just haven't felt much like eating, for the most part and I'm nauseous a lot. And that's new and weird. I'll have, generally, two meals a day.

Last night went to see HJ and to have dinner with Don and some of the HJ guys. Before that, I picked Austin up at the airport Hilton and brought him back up here for lunch. That was nice. He's such a smart, connected, dynamic guy. He played me a gorgeous song about his recent breakup with his girlfriend, who he'd been with for a long time. It was a song that I immediately wanted to hear again, which is my simple test for how I know it's a good song (at least IMO).

Dropped him back off and came back up here. Got ready and went to Cambridge to have dinner w/Don, who I was meeting for dinner. I'm doing some work for Don, who is involved in all sorts of major projects, all a cappella related. And just in the past few days some incredibly HUGE projects have become realities. Including a major motion picture, a PBS special (leading to a yearly franchise), a reality show, and a potential Broadway musical. And these are not "I have a sister in law who works on the Universal lot and might know someone who knows someone" types of things. These things are actually in process (because this guy does not play around), with millions of dollars going in. For example, the movie script is on draft two by Brad Hall; the PBS special is now under the auspices of the woman who created "Antiques Road Show" and got ballroom dancing competitions on PBS, where they're apparently very popular.

We had amazing tapas and started out dinner with one colleague who soon had to leave, and he was then replaced by Deke and Austin, who both have lots of exciting things going on. I must say it left me wondering what I was doing with all these incredible people. I felt a bit...lesser (understatement - I felt downright ridiculous). But I'm grateful to call them friends, and Don seems to think that there will be more ways for me to continue to be involved. I feel like I need to be wrenched back into the world or I'll retreat completely, so I'm putting myself out there. I also think I'll be joining the CASA board, since this week there was an exodus of 3 people who'd had a very negative long-term stranglehold on the organization. The same people (who just left) were responsible for replacing me as editor-in-chief of the website (at which point it became what it is now - virtually dead) despite the protests of everyone else.

The HJs were, as they always are, incredible. I always try to get new people to hear them, because it's something you MUST hear in person, but so far I've failed miserably. I've heard a lot of "welllllllll, maybe next time", and each time I'm there listening to them, I'm so sad that I cannot get across how astounding they are, and that it REALLY would be worth their while to make the effort to get to a show (which doesn't happen all that often in this area). But they (the band) did ask the audience who there was seeing them for the first time, and many were, so at least other people aren't failing at getting friends to join them. And they sell out the room each time. Their genius is that they're incredible writers, arrangers, and singers. But they also are brilliant at including the audience such that it feels like a party and everyone's in on the joke. In each show, they do a requests section where they'll sing anything as long as they've not rehearsed it before. Their encyclopedic knowledge of all types of music, that they can arrange 5 vocal parts on the fly and it's GOOD, is incredible. Last night's songs included "Muskrat Love", "Baby Got Back" and "The Hallelujah Chorus", among several others. If you've ever seen Wayne Brady improv songs and wondered how the hell he could do that on the fly, well, imagine the same thing but with 5 people. I'm just sayin', if you have the chance to see them, don't say "maybe next time". Seriously, I'll refund your money if you're not absolutely blown away. Oh and they're absolutely adorable too. I know lots of women who have crushes on Austin, but he's actually not my choice of the group. Don't you wonder who is?

Now I must get work done that I didn't get done yesterday. Boo.

conversation w/V

V: Are you gay?*

A: I wish. Are you gay?+

V: What day is it?

A: Wednesday

V: What time is it?

A: 1:00

V: Yes, today I'm gay until 3.

*He well knows I'm not
+I well know he's not

full range of emotions

I have the MDA Telethon on while cleaning and they just did a story about a local guy, my age, who has MD. They're talking to his personal assistant, and she says, "Scott is never down, never sad..."

What is our obsession with being NEVER sad? Sad is part of the human condition. If we were never sad, the world would be filled with creepy, smiling, dead-eyed Stepford People, all devoid of the full, beautiful range of human emotion. We can't appreciate what being happy is without having sadness in our lives. Happy without sad has no context, and thus no meaning. Sadness isn't something to rid ourselves of (unless there's too much of it). I can understand saying how this guy is generally positive, or how he carries on despite his condition. But he should be ALLOWED to be sad sometimes, and to wonder about what could have been if he didn't have to deal with this terrible disease. That's not weakness or a character flaw. That's what thoughtful, contemplative people do, no matter what their condition.

I always find that people who crow constantly about how HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY they are are the ones who are actually the least so, but who have the most to lose by facing their own emotions. If you have to constantly announce that you're happy or that you're the life of the party or that your natural state is POSITIVE!!, that should raise red flags to everyone around you. Because I find that the people who are truly happy 1.) don't announce it, and 2.) are open to feeling truly, honestly, utterly SAD sometimes, because they know that a life that offers only chocolate and no other flavor is a life where chocolate would quickly become tedious.