Making It
 

      So, I turned 40 on Monday. I celebrated by taking the senior bus to McDonalds, where I hung out for awhile drinking coffee, (careful not to scald) before catching BINGO at the Elks, (the pot was up to $90!). Then I lost control of my bladder and went to bed early.
 
A friend said something to me that caused me to take pause. She said, "You're starting to get 'up there', Jalan. If you're gonna Make It, you'd better do it quick." She was refering to the music biz, of course. There is a mindset that somehow as a musician you are not valid unless you're on American Idol or singing vaccuous, safe, predictable, prefab, WAL-MART-friendly songs through an electronic vocal pitch corrector on the CMT Awards.

 
Don't get me wrong, I have no objection to having a BIG HIT SINGLE and getting to ride in an 80-foot tourbus with a wetbar and a spa and a built in cabinet for sex toys and being able to light farts with $100 bills. I harbor no grudge against gettin famous and havin my nicotine-stained grin plastered SO BIG on the sides of city buses in Vegas that tourists could go spelunking in my pores. And, incidentally, I'd like to do Sarah Palin. What I do take issue with is sacrificing personal and artistic integrity in pursuit of it.


Long ago, I endured a string of loathsome jobs including, but not limited to, factory assembly line, road construction, fencing (not with swords), etc etc etc, under generally awful conditions and for shitty wages. Nothing against factory-road-constructing-swordfighters. It just wernt for me. It finally occured to me, around 20 years ago, that I couldn't have a lousier time nor make any less money by quiting, and trying to do something I enjoyed for a living. I was wrong, at first..


I took stabs at a few different occupations, (none of which are even considered to BE occupations, except by the chattering, L-shaped, eyelickers at the fringe of sanity). Among them were Chess, Art, & Music, because they were fun and I was kinda OK at them. Chess was an immediate failure. To hell with those nerdy assholes anyway, with their braaaiins and smartiness. My standard of living would have had to drop precipitously to survive on an income of chess tournament winnings. There were no good after-parties anyway. Art almost worked but I was still at an income level below most 9 year olds' allowances. Music showed promise. From the first time I whanged banjer for a near-empty room of people watching NASCAR, got paid 50 dollars, and got drunk, laid, and puked on the same night, I knew that God was working with these hands. I stuck to it.

Though there has been no lack of intense effort invested, from that day forward I've never really felt like I've endured a day's work, in the JOB sense. I've never gone to bed, dreading the morning alarm clock, nor felt as though my short hours on this Earth were being squandered for the Man. Incidentally, I've never done Sarah Palin. My life has been fun.

 

So, here I am at McDonalds again. OUCH, scalding coffee! Here I am, considering how much time I have left to Make It. I have pissed away the past 20 years, coloring with Crayons, losing at Chess, and whanging a banjo for people. Fuck, dude, I made it 20 years ago.