Snake in the grass

I'm sorry to be calling so late, man, but it's been quite a while...

It's good to hear from you, farmboy. It has been a long time since we talked. What's up with you?

Not much, man. Right now I'm standing outside this place called the Watertrough  Saloon. I'm here to see this band that I don't know the name of, but my friend Dan is their keyboardist. They're very good.

But, you know me. I have to have these fuckin' feelings all the time. I'm in this bar and it's like the land of thin young good-looking white people out for a Friday night of fun and trying to get laid. And here I am, older than everybody, fatter than everybody, just another fuckin' songwriter that nobody's noticing. I feel so fuckin' out of place.

Just focus on the music, farmboy. I know you can do that. It's good for you to be out, and you can always get value out of the music. I know that about you.

Yeah, that's what I'll do. I can always write lyrics too.

You're a resourceful guy. So have you been writing? Last time we spoke you were writing up a storm.

I'm always writing. Whether I come up with winners and keepers is a whole different thing. But, you know, I enjoy writing songs. I'm actually writing some poetry, too. It's mostly bad but there's a couple that I like all right.

And you're doing storytelling...

I've got a gig coming up at the University of Portland. I've already done a couple outlines, but I need to start getting it the way I want. I'll start that in the next couple days.

How are you doing emotionally, farmboy?

You know me, man. I'm fuckin' sad all the damn time. If I'm not depressed, it's right under the surface. It's always waiting, like a snake in the grass, ready to strike. 

You wouldn't believe all the things I've been doing to try to salvage this sad, miserable life of mine. I see my therapist at least once a week, sometimes twice. I go to the gym. I have a trainer. I track everything I eat. I have a storytelling mentor who I work with, I have a physical therapist, I have a psychiatrist that monitors the medications I take for this shit -- I'm up to four now. I write every day, I play music every day. I exercise, I meditate every day. I try to eat correctly. No junk food, no processed food.

I'm trying, man, I'm trying, I really am. 

You're feeling sad tonight, aren't you?

Ah, man, I'm feeling out of place and I'm alone. I'm enjoying the music, but I'm looking forward to being back home with a pipeful of weed. 

Yeah, I guess I'm depressed. But it sure feels good to talk to you, man.