All The Other Crap

What I’ve Missed

I’ve missed a lot of things in my life, and, yes, I have regrets.

I’ve missed

a great deal of my kid’s childhood because I’ve had to work or otherwise sacrifice to protect her from the insanity that was my marriage. You know what I mean, you b___. Not you – her. Yeah: you’ll figure it out one day.

my family, despite their quirks, because of misplaced anger from my siblings that, if anyone looks at the facts, could have nothing to do with me because I wasn’t even effing there. How mature is it to blame me for being born? Pretty moronic, I’d say. But I would forgive it if you’d have the courage to argue it. Otherwise, you’re just a lazy drunk coasting toward death. Really? That’s the whole of it? Pretty disappointing.

my music career, because I thought that it would peter out and I wanted to quit while I was ahead while now, thirty years later, my band plays on, without me. And, they were kind enough to ask me back but I’m too entrenched in my own desperation to bone up and show up. So, eff me. Too right.

the royalties from aforementioned musical activities, because I signed them away, because, who knew that I would effing hear that same stuff on the radio, day after day, decades later and even in frickin’ TV commercials. Kindly of stupid to use that music in gadget commercials, but, hey. I don’t have a say, do I?

the opportunity to go to the Far East as as publicity photographer for a large Korean conglomerate. Two year contract. I was eighteen. But then, no music.

one really serious relationship that I basically killed because I had no vision whatsoever for the long term and responded with my own directed perceptions resulting in panic, effectively manipulating myself. Fear is powerful, but the answer is to do nothing – just wait. Thanks, Ghenghis. Couldn’t have laid that on me before I got old?

the chance to have had a long career in business and law because I thought I knew better that my own best counsel – myself. Instead, I sacrificed my honour to protect another which was, in of itself, unethical. So, yeah, I got me. Look it up. Public record. F*cking idiot that I am.

time I should have spent with my mother who I now miss every day, who I know understand better than before and who I regret I will never get to know in her prime. Plus, there’s stuff I would call her on.

time I should have spent with my father who, though still tickin’, is not the guy he once was. I mean, give him a break, he’s freakin’ ancient. But he’s still there, lucid and hasn’t forgot a thing, including sage advice that I have taken and has always, always, always turned out to be at the very least helpful. Peasant, my ass.

So, I’m short on time. How shall I use it? How to avoid racking up more regret? Help at the soup kitchen? I’m too much of a nihilist for that – sorry. I’d be perfectly happy donating money to a worth charity – like Trees For Israel – rather than scuffing up my shoes amongst the great unwashed. Teach? Busy work. Learn on your own – I did. Start another business? I dunno. Seems like a long row to hoe and I don’t work well without a worthy partner and I’m too self-absorbed to be social enough to find same, so, there’s that. Write? I’m doing that now: do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to be disciplined enough to draft, rewrite, throw away, redraft and sculpt, rewrite again, the same vision? Lots, buddy. Art is hard.

Whatev. Objectively, the best place for me for the foreseeable future is an ashram somewhere where I can scope my self down to a fine point, or an amorphous one. But, you know, something’s gotta give.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *