Everyone's got their Christmas traditions. From the traditional turkey to the alternative sushi, staying home or going away for the holidays, there are some things that never change.
Me, I've got three families at the moment. Four, counting me, Mrs. M and little Baby M as a "new" family who have to start our own traditions.
Every Christmas, we juggle/negotiate/contractually obligate ourselves to these three families: My mom, Marci's parents, and my dad.
Christmas with mom is always on the 24th, Christmas Eve. We get together for supper and beverages and camaraderie, and open our gifts to each other at that time.
Mom's a fun traditionalist with some flexibility; although she enjoys a turkey dinner, this year we had a whole passel of finger foods from M&M Meat Shops. Delicious, filling, and EASY TO PREPARE AND CLEAN UP, the hallmark of a very positive Christmas.
Mom and I are on the same page: Christmas is to be ENJOYED. Christmas is to be FUN. If there's stress involved it can just get its ass kicked RIGHT out the door, thank you very much. So when we had her sister, my aunt Darlene in from New Brunswick, in town for Christmas we determined to make everything as easy as possible. And it was! We, my brother, my cousin and her beau, my mom and my Aunt had a wonderful Christmas eve, thank you very much.
And to show the coolness that is my mom, for Christmas we repainted her apartment. I began the concept by Queer Eyeing it and saying I saw it as a Spanish Cantina sort of theme; antiquey and rustic but --y'know, muy caliente at the same time.
So my aunt and I bought the paint and glaze, my aunt had the whole place painted in two days (the women on Mom's side of the family being utterly obsessively crazy when they have a project to do) and I came in one evening to do the faux-finishing. Voila! Color gold and distressed-- beautiful.
Sorry I don't have any "before" pics-- the apartment used to be TAUPE-- but my Aunt started painting before either mom or I expected it. It's now Stuart Gold, and looks fabulous. Pictures to follow.
Christmas Day is traditionally for Marci's family. They're the polite family. The ones who never know quite what to make of her freaky actor husband with his New Brunswick background and alternative lifestyle references. They're a large bunch of Germanic descent, cousins and aunts and uncles everywhere, who get together in large groups necessitating lots of casseroles.
They're mostly Christian and soft-spoken and I tend to doubt they even know any dirty words. Needless to say, I kind of stick out in that crowd. The cartoon at left-- brought to you by the fine minds at Penny Arcade-- is the best description of how I feel when trying to explain my life to Marci's family. And look-- there's even a red-headed chick with glasses admonishing her two-tone-headed husband for his fabrications. Totally illustrative of a Marci family gathering.
Boxing Day is for my Dad. It's far less "traditional family" and more "yuppie brunch." Which is great, because can you imagine three days of turkey? Lord.
For the past three years we've gone to see Lord of the Rings as our tradition; now I'm sad because the trilogy is over, and I really enjoyed making that our "Christmas movie." I think next year we'll just have to pick another movie, because going to the cinema at Christmas just feels so much more FUN than merely renting a DVD.
Finally, Marci and I belatedly realized that we have a child now, and therefore we are OUR OWN family and need to start our own traditions. We stole time out of Christmas Day for just us, and I think it's going to continue that way-- we like things quiet, magical. Not for us the hullabaloo. We like to spend time admiring the tree and quietly sitting in each other's company, enjoying a mug of hot chocolate or a juicy mandarin orange.
I like each of these traditions. I enjoy the diversity, and most of all the CELEBRATION of the holiday. Because, after all, it is a celebration. Find the joy in your Christmas and, god forbid, if there isn't any-- MAKE some.
Happy Holidays to everyone.
Pray for me. Send me your good vibes, Agents: I just auditioned for a gig I really, REALLY would like to have.
It was for a horror movie. A SCHLOCKY horror movie, the best kind. It's some kind of slasher flick entitled "Santa's Slay." How cool is that?
I auditioned for the part of a cop. Officer #1. Oh yeah. In the scene I auditioned for, the cop walks in and sees that a Jewish man has been stabbed through the chest and pinned to the wall by his own menorah (that 8-candle candleabra that represents the festival of Hanukkah.)
His line? "Something's just not kosher here."
Come ON. It doesn't GET better than that.
Many actors have gone on to be superfamous after starring in perfectly horrid schlocky horror films. I want to be one of them.
It's campy, it's in poor taste, it's gory, it's horror. It is a VEHICLE, Agents, a poor geek actor's dream. I want to be the cop. I'm hoping he dies HORRIBLY. Covered in gore, stabbed with his own nightstick.
I'm including a picture of the outfit Agent CK was kind enough to lend me for the audition. I'm lookin' coppy-- in fact, I scared the director because he thought I was a REAL cop there to give him a ticket or something. That means major points for me, if I could convince him at first glance.
And lookit how the shirt fits-- I've got Cop Donut Bulge! Admit it, Mister Director, I'm a SHOO-IN!
And to make sure I am, I'd like all you Agents out there to join me in putting the vibe out there to GET me this part. I wannit. I need it. I've GOT to have it! The script treatment even SAYS "Low Budget" on it. And they're shooting in Edmonton. Glamourous EDMONTON. If this doesn't have "career launchpad" on it I don't know what does.
Vibe me, Agents. Vibe Agent M for Officer #1.
Since it's Christmas and good ol' Agent M is out Christmassing instead of blogging, I thought I'd post one of those off-the-wall questionnaires about myself. Many of you veterans of the bloggiverse will be bored by that, but I urge you to read on: There's something for YOU afterwards.
1. If you could have any 3 Super Powers, what would they be?
Teleportation -- I really could be everywhere at once!
Forces control -- The ability to manipulate all forms of energy, from light to sound. Nothing like whipping up a thunderstorm to create drama. or being able to provide your own soundtrack. This would also provide me the ability to fly, since gravity would be my personal bee eye tee cee aitch, and give me telekinesis. You ever try opening your front door with your arms full of groceries, or forget to turn off a light before you get into bed at night? Sure would be handy...
Shapeshifting -- I'd love to see what the world looks like through another pair of eyes. Or spending the day as a cat, innocuously watching the goings-on.
2. What are your 5 all time favorite movies? No particular order.
Jumanji, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Fellowship of the Ring, The Frighteners, and Emperor's New Groove.
3. You're granted 3 wishes, what are they? (And please, no wishing for more wishes)
1) Enough money to establish a permanent power base of wealth, so I would never have to be concerned about money again.
2) To land a role in the coolest sci-fi or fantasy movie of all time.
3) The ability to turn my fantasies into reality. For example, having the super-powers listed above.
4. Who are your 3 current favorite comedians?
Rowan Atkinson, Denis Leary, and Courtemanche, a French Canadian mime/physical humourist.
5. Who are your 5 most hated bands?
Marilyn Manson; too contrived and sooooo PSEUDO-everything; Any and all hip-hop bands, especially those that have songs whining about how their girlfriend caught them with the girl next door; Kid Rock; Puffy, Puff Daddy or P. Diddy, whatever the hell he calls himself now; Eminem
6. Who are your 5 most beloved bands at this moment?
Tragically Hip; the 5.6.7.8's; Pink; Smashmouth; The Ramones
7. What were your 3 favorite board games as a child?
Monopoly; Masterpiece; Billionaire
8. Who are your 3 favorite horror movie characters of all time?
Jonathan Pryce as Mr. Dark in Something Wicked This Way Comes; Julian Sands as the warlock in Warlock; Gary Cole as Sheriff Lucas Buck in the TV Series American Gothic. I know it's a TV series, but it was so good it's worthy of mention.
9. What are 3 of your favorite scents?
Lilac, Tangerine, and freshly baked apple pie.
10. What are your 3 favorite holidays?
Halloween because it really is magical; Christmas because it feels like the world actually STOPS for a day or two; Victoria Day because it's a long weekend that pretty much heralds the beginning of Summer here in Canada.
11. What are 5 qualities you look for in the sex you are attracted to?
Intelligence, and all that that involves. If you're shallow or incapable of following anything more but the simplest conversation, you're not for me.
Charm. You need to be endearing in some way.
Wit. You need to be able to give as good as you get in the Humordome! And also be able to acquit yourself well anecdotally.
Knowledge and Interest in Pop Culture. Half my life is lived in the environs of pop culture-- if we don't have anything in common, it just won't work out between us.
Grooming and Hygiene. I don't judge people by the looks they were born with. However, if you're not willing to clean yourself up and make an effort to be presentable, I find that MORE repulsive than so-called "ugliness."
12. What are your two favorite types of candy?
The Aero Bar (I love the bubbles!)
Bubble Gum. No weird flavour, just bubble gum. Lately I'm liking Trident.
Okay. So now you've read my little questionnaire -- and I'd like to thank Catalytic for the inspiration, both for it and for the one below-- but now it's YOUR turn.
My blog, by and large, is about me because I'm the one writing it. But how, I wonder, do my readers perceive me? That's the curiousity and the risk. But I am a curious person, and I'm not averse to risk, so please have a read at the following set of questions and post your replies in comments.
Hope you're all having a marvelous happy holiday!
THE QUESTIONS:
01. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
02. Am I loveable?
03. How long have you known me?
04. When and where did we first meet?
05. What was your first impression?
06. Do you still think that way about me now?
07. What do you think my weakness is?
08. Did you think I'd ever get married?
09. What makes me happy?
10. What makes me sad?
11. What reminds you of me?
12. What is my best quality?
13. What is my worst quality?
14. How well do you think you know me, and what makes you think so?
15. When's the last time you saw me?
16. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
17. Do you think that I could kill someone?
18. Who would play me in a movie?
19. If I were to be a color, what one would I be?
20. Describe me in one word.
21. Do you think our friendship is getting stronger/weaker/or staying the same?
22. Do you think that I am stubborn?
23. Are you going to put this on your blog or livejournal and see what I say about you?
"Invest in yourself." It's a big Industry thing. It's a catchphrase. It applies to all walks of professional life.
The Fab Five would espouse this as buying a new suit, getting a new hairdo, redecorating your house.
The speaking-motivationally types would see this as attending a self-improvement seminar (one of theirs, naturally.)
The Hippie Love Gurus think it means taking time out to create a quiet, sacred space and give yourself some self-love time-- the kind that includes chamomile somewhere.
Whatever it means to you, take some time and do it.
As an actor, quite a lot of investing in myself involves either my appearance or my talent. Last year I took some courses in voice-over, and audition techniques, as well as How to Speak American. (No, that's not a joke: Canadians do sound quite a bit different from Americans.)
Therefore, when I had time (and money) to consider another Upgrade (What am I now, Agent M 5.2 or something?) I chose to this time invest in an new look.
My current head shot is 2 years old. That's WAY too old when you're supposed to keep your look CURRENT. So, I reasoned, it was time for a change.
Let me caution the men out there, since I doubt the women would need to be told this. If you are paying fifteen dollars or under for a haircut, then you are not getting your hair cut at a place where you WANT them to create your new look for you. You are playing Russian Roulette with your hair-- DO NOT DO THIS. Find a salon. Thirty dollars is a good price for a new look. (Once it's established, do what I do-- go back to the cheap places and say "See this? Keep it looking like this.")
For those guys out there who are "short-back-and-sides" types, don't talk to me. I can't help you.
So I went to just such a salon as I have described above; one of these places that doesn't just cut hair, they are an actual Day Spa.
Day Spa means: Tanning beds, manicurists, waxers, massage...the Total Groom Package. And I signed up for not quite the works.
I had my eyebrows waxed. For those of you that know me, you can see that the future held Gandalf for me. And cool as Lord of the Rings is right now, that's just not the way I wanted to go. Also, to some extent every man suffers from encroaching Unibrow-- you blond bastards can get away with folks not noticing as much-- and that needs to be taken care of as well.
So they put hot wax on my forehead, and RIPPED the unwanted hairs out. It's actually not that painful-- and the parts that are slightly ouchie are over in a flash. And they sculpted the shape, neatened them up a bit. My only stipulation was that I didn't want to look like either Joan Crawford or Divine.
Then came the hair. I'm regularly cast in thirtysomething "Dad" roles now, which is fine and dandy because I AM a thirtysomething Dad, but we all know that Young and Pretty sells. So I told them I wanted to look twentysomething without looking like some pathetic white guy trying to look "hip."
We talked style. We looked through magazines, my stylist and I. Checked out some celebrities' 'dos. I picked one, I forget whose it was, and then we talked color highlights. We fused caramel with copper to create an electricity that wasn't too brassy.
I bought product. Head and Shoulders may do the trick, but it really isn't good for hair in the long run. So I bought a shampoo and a conditioner. And, most importantly, I asked my stylist how I, the Guy at Home, could do my OWN hair at home and have it look salon-good. She introduced me to styling CLAY-- like pomade only solid. You warm it up in your hands and apply it to DRY hair. (Wet hair only dilutes your product, kids.)
I thanked her for a lovely day and paid for my hair, waxing and three products.
The bill came to just under TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS.
I was in shock. I expected more like eighty. But no, the highlights ALONE were seventy dollars. The wax, about seventeen. The cut was thirty. And the products were fifteen apiece while the clay was thirty dollars.
Shit, I said to myself.
I was still dazed when I came home and confessed to my wife how much I had spent ON MY HAIR. I mean, I could have bought a new leather jacket for two hundred dollars, right? God, what was I thinking?
I slept on it. And the next morning I put it into perspective. First of all, as a self-employed type, I get to write everything off. Actors get to write off cosmetic changes for roles or professional goals like a new head shot (which I can also write off.)
Secondly, I hadn't SPENT two hundred dollars. I had INVESTED it. I was creating a new look which, hopefully, will open me up to a more marketable age range other than "Chevy Chase" or "Dan Aykroyd." BOTH of whom are way chubbier than I like to be associated with, thanks.
It's not something I will make a habit of. Like I said above, I can now get my usual trimming done at a less ostentatious grooming establishment, one with "CUTS" in the name.
But after the shock wore off, I have to tell you something: It felt pretty damn good to have put that money into ME. Into self-improvement, even if all it gave me was a new look and two separate and distinct eyebrows.
Actually, that's not true: The new look is not all it gave me. It also granted me a new PERSPECTIVE on myself. I can be a person who is more than that guy who was always doing the same thing with his look. I can be adventurous. I can be, dare I say it, ALLURING. I dressed up for Mrs M. the day after the cut and she had to agree that this husband guy who'd been hanging around was suddenly pretty damn HOT in his size 36 jeans and tight black sweater.
I never thought of myself as a vain person, but hearing THAT from someone who's grown accustomed to my face was just electrifying. I was old and busted-- and now, the New Hotness.
Two hundred dollars is still a lot of money to me. But after the shock wore off, I've come to believe that it was indeed Worth It.
Go crazy once in a while and it might pay off-- especially if you Invest In Yourself.
Good morning.
No, really, it actually was a very good morning. I auditioned for a voice gig on Monday, got it, and performed it today. So yeah, it was one of those mornings.
I was skipping happily along afterwards, all bunny-hop-hop perky (the Caramel Macchiato sure helped) and I thought: "GEEZ, I've got a good agent."
It was one of those thanksgiving moments-- the ones where you realize that there are certain elements, or in this case people, in your life that help you to get where you are and/or help you to ease your passage down your chosen road.
In this case, my agent, Sue.
Sue is responsible for a lot of people. As a talent agent, she's on the phone constantly, lining up the gigs and the auditions, faxing like a madwoman, and dealing with any issues that might arise during the before, during, and after process of the work.
And let me dispel a myth about agents, Agents: Your agent does part of the work, finding out about auditions and stuff you might not hear about. This does not give the talent license to sit on their asses and wait for her to "get them work." It's a meet-me-halfway thing: Get OUT there. Be SEEN. Surf the WEB on occasion and do what it takes to keep yourself In The Groove.
Sitting at home doesn't do anyone any favors.
Secondly, realize that your agent doesn't just represent you, but a whole agency of other talent. And who do you think she's going to spend more time on? Well, the people that are out there. And that's not to say the people who are getting cast are better than you; it's just saying that if you're WORKING on getting work, you're more marketable and your agent will push that much harder to get you into auditions and interviews.
Ever been to a bar during a busy time? A dozen people jammed up against the bar all want drinks. The bartender is going to serve the people with the cash in their hands first-- because they're easier to deal with. They know what they want, their money's out, serve them and boom, they're on their way.
It's a lot like that in the acting world. If you want your agent to feel confident in you, and vice-versa, you need to belly right up to the "bar"-- in this case, get to know the casting directors and other industry players in town. Have your money out-- meaning, invest in yourself. Keep your head shot updated. Buy some nice clothes that best showcase the product-- you.
Once you've done that, good. You're doing YOUR part. Now your agent can do theirs.
Sue is fantastic that way; she's a fighter AND a diplomat. She knows when to push and when to back off. And being patient and asking questions really helps me to understand where she's coming from.
I hear horror stories about talent screaming in her ear because, for whatever reason, they aren't millionaires yet. And yes, as you can read on this blog, I myself have been frustrated at times. But Sue has seen this before, and knows how to deal with it. She can soothe an actor's fragile ego (if she thinks that's warranted) or give tough love.
Myself, I'd really rather have the tough love. Spell it out for me. Tell me what I'm doing wrong, and what I'm doing right. Let me know.
And she does! Sue has given me confidence by teling me just how the playing field works. I don't waste time trying to change the playing field; I just redouble my efforts to make sure I'm in the game and not warming the bench, to continue the metaphor.
I got into the voice thing on my own, but took Sue's advice on when to get my professional demo done. I then took a class (invested in myself), and made sure Sue had lots of copies of my demo to send out. She sent them out and I hit the pavement; we were working in tandem.
Now, I have a relationship with voice studios in town. Sue and I worked together to make that happen. I introduced myself and she beefed it up by making the calls and keeping those lines open.
This week I will be telephonically beating down the door to our local animation studio. I want to be a cartoon, dammit. And if I can just get my foot in the door, I know Sue will be there to back me up.
Another thing: I never have to get ugly with a client. SUE does. In voice, I'm discovering there's a great deal of "Oh, can you just come in and do this for an undisclosed rate? We'll tell you how much you made later, it's just we need your voice NOW." And that's crap, but complain too much and they will just find another talent, y'know?
Being too hard-assed can negatively impact me as a talent, even if I'm totally in the right. Enter Sue: She can negotiate, and even tell the client they're full of crap, and that's actually OKAY. Because, as an agent, they expect Sue to do that. And so, magically, the hard-assed rep doesn't come back to me- I'm still happy Golden Boy, even though my agent may just have gone up one side and down the other of the people I'm working for.
And you can't put a price on the ease, and peace of mind, that brings. I don't have an accountant, marketer or lawyer: Sue does all that for me-- and thank God.
Sue is a busy woman. Sue is a knowledgeable woman. Sue knows what she's doing and works WITH me. Sue makes me feel good about what I'm doing and reassures me when, against all better judgement, I allow doubt to creep in.
Sue works. I know-- I've been working with her for almost ten years. And I want to stop and take a moment to acknowledge the very positive influence she's had in my professional life.
Thank you, Sue. Here's to ten more years.
Now convince Disney and Warner Brothers that I'm the next hot voice in cartoons today. Oh, wait-- that's MY job. :)
The car of Life has once again pulled up to the four-way stop, Agents.
These are the times when one pulls up, looks left, right, or straight ahead, and chooses a direction. It can be a big crossroads, or just a normal everyday intersection. A really hard choice or a no-brainer. A clear-cut destination or a random turn because hey, you're lost anyway.
Right now, as the year comes to a close, I've come to another crossroads in my life, and it concerns the people in it.
Mostly, I've been ruminating on the New Year, and my goals and the direction I want to take in 2004. And that, of course, promotes reflection on 2003 and where I've been-- and, for the purposes of this self-examination, who I've been on the road with.
It came to me the other day that there are people in my life that I don't really want there.
This isn't a "Good GOD why won't they leave me ALONE" or "JEEZ I need to get away from them or gnaw my hand off to do so." This isn't one of those sharp, high-contrast Epiphanies that so often strike my brain. This was just a gradual realization of fact.
If you believe, as I do, that people come into your life for a reason, you must also beware of the caveat: Perhaps they're there only to serve as a cautionary tale. A warning.
No, none of the people I currently know go whoop whoop whoop with the red alert signal when I see them. But I am aware that sometimes, though these people have in fact come into my life through circumstance or coincidence or what-have-you, that it's up to me to get them out-- or move on.
And that's where I'm at lately. There's stuff I'm just not into any more. I want to move forward-- and in fact, HAVE moved forward in many ways-- and I can't just sit there and keep doing the same old same old. Especially when I'm just going through the motions.
How sick, and how lame, is that? Going through the motions? Why in god's name would anyone be "phoning it in" to THEIR OWN LIFE? The only one suffering there is you, Agent, so you'd best wake up and smell the rest of the world going by.
The Geek Social Fallacies thing really hit home to me. I was formed by a culture of acceptance and passive reaction. It took me years to realize that, soft and accepting as it was, it was never going to help me achieve my goals in life, the goals that lay "outside the womb," as it were.
My group of fellow geeks that I hung around with in my teens split into two major groups. I'll call them the "nice" and the "naughty." The "nice" were very kind, thoughtful, easy-going people. And as far as I can tell, to this day they still are. Yes, I'm generalizing.
I wasn't one of them.
I was with the "naughty" group. For whatever reason, we were (it seemed to me) more "worldly," more individual and less in need of the group. This was my first taste of moving on-- our group splintered, as is perfectly natural, and some of us evolved into our next phase and adapted to it.
Others, however, did not. Did not evolve AT ALL. Missed the boat. Didn't cross over. Didn't change. Sat on the bench. Retired early. Pick a phrase, I've got more.
And those are the kind of people I've got to avoid. The kind of people that I cannot-- DARE not-- waste my time with. Because it IS a waste of time.
I'm not talking about old friends that you're comfortable with. I'm talking about people whom, upon due reflection, you realize are not going to go where you're going. Who are not going to be there when you arrive at your destination. And who, horror of horrors, are incapable of perceiving you as anything other than what they pigeonholed you with when they met you.
That last one happens to me a lot, by the way.
And yeah, let's look at the flipside: There may very well be people who are reading this blog right now saying to themselves, "He just described himself. Who does he think he's kidding?" And hey, if you see me as that kind of person then for the love of God, do yourself a favor and get away from me. Quickly. I'm a hazard to your evolution as a person. I'm holding you back. RUN, don't WALK away. Avoid me at all costs.
This whole thing wasn't, as I said above, an Epiphany that struck me like lightning from the sky. There weren't any fireworks or a sympony. There was no "Eureka!". There was no drama. There was just the realization that this is the decision I have made for myself.
I have often fooled myself into thinking true change has to be catastrophic, loud, abrupt or dramatic; perhaps it's because that's the way I clean my house. It isn't CLEAN if I didn't go temporarily insane with the wall-washing and the under-the-couch vacuuming.
But life isn't like that, though-- or rather, it very rarely is. Change can be gradual, and sneak up on you like autumn at the end of August. It can announce itself with a whisper rather than an explosion. And for me, this is as gentle as can be: I have realized that there are people in my life that aren't good for me. No judgements, no recriminations.
These people haven't done anything to me. I'm not mad at them. I have not named them as being directly detrimental-- merely that they are not good for me to be around. (The difference being that "detrimental" involves them being ACTIVE in working to my detriment, which they are not.)
I'm just not That Guy anymore. And when I'm around them, I feel that's all I can be-- and that is patently untrue. I still have, at my tender age of 34, tons of untapped potential. And I want to realize it. I don't want to live a mediocre life. It's got to be onward and upward, and at my own pace. Some of you out there will go faster than I can. Some of you will be slower. But those of you that aren't moving-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I may (or may not) like you, but I have to let you go.
I wish you well. Wish ME well too, and we'll part happy. And who knows? Maybe we'll meet again in the future. I sure hope to see you there; I can't wait to hear about all the things you've done.
Can I state the blatantly obvious?
Caffeine is a drug. It's the most socially acceptable drug EVER, but it's still a drug. Great. Now I can't stop saying drug.
Like any drug, caffeine gets you high. It produces a feeling of energetic revitalization, a buzz, a high-- and generally brings you crashing down horrendously later.
It's addictive. It's in almost every beverage you can buy at the store. Even those so-called "smart" drinks you can get that are all-organic have alternatives to caffeine in them, because people still want the buzz but just want to feel better about it.
Caffeine is SOUGHT AFTER, Agents. Never doubt it.
When you're high on caffeine, you're on a trip. You're tripping. You're rollin' with the homies. You can turn the world on with your smile, 'cuz caffeine takes a nothing day and suddenly makes it all seem worthwhile.
Oh yeah. Drug city. Hey man, here's a can of soda-- want a hit? First one's free.
In Grade 9, in "Family Life," which is the class in which they teach you all of those taboo subjects like sex, drug abuse and your future chequing account, we had a course on drug abuse.
Getting addicted to a substance is a war of attrition. First time you use it, you're GOLDEN. So you use it again, to recapture that feeling. The more you use it, the more of it you NEED to use to get that feeling-- and the harder you come down every time.
Our teacher illustrated it as a peak and a valley; the first time, the peak is really high and the valley is barely a dip. Then the peak gets lower and the valley gets deeper. Until, finally, you're using just to get to the baseline of "normal" and the peak is totally gone. It's almost like you've developed an immunity to the drug, but you still need it just to function.
Hey, Jason? I'm talking to YOU here. You're Not A Well Man.
But then, in very general terms none of us are. I'm not advocating total abstinence here, because I am in NO way, shape or form a Caffeine Saint. But I do have an insight into this whole deal.
When I decided I needed to lose some weight (and generally improve my lifestyle) I cut down on the caffeine. For me, my fix came in the form of Pepsi and/or Slurpees, in case you're curious.
Then I did the Atkins diet-- and it was ZERO on the caffeine meter, and also nil on the sugar meter, too. I had two weeks of total, clean, water-only NULL caffeine lifestyle.
Yes, I did feel better; yes, my energy levels were more consistent and no, I didn't have a "crash" in the afternoon like so many nine-to-fivers. None of this, however, is my point.
I experienced a "break" in my routine, and through diet acheived a kind of "reboot" to my system.
The next time I had caffeine after my whole Atkins purge thing, it KICKED MY ASS. UP one side and DOWN the other. What a rollercoaster! Whoo HOO! Look at me way up high I'm FLY-ING!
Visitors to my brain, conducted via a cup of coffee at a blogmeet, can tell you that I was Out the hell There. And hey, it was great-- a group of fun people means a heckuva fun time!
However, there's a dark side, of course. As with any trip, you can have a bad one. Instead of being all "up" and happy, you can go horribly, horribly wrong-- and that same energy that used to feed your creativity then suddenly feeds other things.
Fear. Paranoia. Jittery, jumping at every noise freakishness. The kind where ONE THING can set me off to the point where I can't sleep because I'm so WIRED, so freaked out, that my mind keeps going over and over the fear again until I finally run out of juice.
And for once I could actually NOTICE it. Probably because I did take a break from the Caffeine Scene. I know that, on the surface at least, we're all "aware" of the dangers of caffeine; but I don't think we really pay attention. I mean, hey, it's an "everybody-does-it" thing, so we don't really think of what is actually, physically, CHEMICALLY happening to us, do we?
This is my cautionary tale of self-observation. One bad trip on caffeine and it made me aware that all those fun things that I take for granted when suckin' Starbucks with friends are really doing a number on me.
All I'm saying? Step back and look at just HOW much caffeine you have and how often. The numbers might surprise you.
Sweet Demon Caffeine is copyright Bruce Walters and Gareth Wood, 'cuz it was a song title they wrote while high on caffeine late one night at the Circle K. As Theodore Logan and Bill S Preston Esq. once said, "Strange Things Are Afoot At The Circle K."
The nitty gritty of the material I'm basing for this post was written by Michael Suileabhain-Wilson; please read the entire dissertation on his website.
Growing Up Geek would probably be just as apt a title for this blog as The M Files. My observations about life and the people around me are invariably colored, as are all people's, by my primary social upbringing-- in my case, Geek culture.
Michael Suilewhatsis has really put his finger on a word I've been yearning to use about the culture in which I was socially indoctrinated: FALLACIES.
Yes. For years I believed many of these erroneous, unhealthy falsehoods to just be the way things were. Let's have a look at them:
Geek Social Fallacy #1: Ostracizers Are Evil
Yeah. Start being the slightest bit discriminatory and suddenly YOU'RE the bad guy. It doesn't matter if every other person in the group can't stand the Cat Piss Man; we don't dare exclude him because, hey, that would be MEAN.
I spent a couple of years in a Star Trek club because they did fun things; however, there were some REAL doozies of (not just) social bombs, but actual, AGGRESSIVELY socially inept people. Like the guy who rationalized that if he didn't like the service at the restaurant we went to after meetings, that he didn't have to pay...for his meal. Cripes. But did the Club president do anything about it? No.
And what happens? Michael S. puts his finger on it: People start to clandestinely plan outings without telling so and so when and where it is. No, no, noone would ever just TELL the offender that he's unwelcome at future events. We'll just hide and do things in secret like we were all in grade school until he hopefully gets the hint; which really demeans the whole situation on both sides.
TO THIS DAY I have friends who won't put their foot down and tell a certain geek to STOP COMING to things he's not invited to. He KNOWS he shouldn't come to these functions, that they're closed, private get-togethers, but he comes anyway. And will continue to do so because no one will put their foot down and say, sorry, closed to YOU, pal. And so they all suffer.
I'm not saying OSTRACIZE. I'm saying DISCRIMINATE. I'm saying set boundaries. Not everyone has to be at everything. And I bet you'd find that your group is a lot happier.
Geek Social Fallacy #2: Friends Accept Me As I Am
Ah, the Friendship card. In Geekdom, it's just so much harder to point out to a FRIEND that they're being an asshole than it is to do so to or about a stranger.
This also carries with it the corollary that around your friends, you never have to try hard to improve or in any way change anything about yourself, because hey, you've got friends and they'll understand, right?
My friend Bruce ran up against that when he became a gamer; on his blog he tells about how he pretty much gave up HIS life to game with friends, and came out the other side wondering how he could have given up on all his interests.
Well, everyone else was gaming, and we're all friends here, right?
(Odd sort of backlash: Throughout my geek social life, I was the guy who really fell under this category; I would go OUT OF MY WAY to accept everyone as they were. I was the mediator, the "let's-all-get-along" guy. And yet, among my friends, I was the one always chosen to get snippy with. Social losers with no hope of any kind of interaction outside the Geek Bubble would actually try to put me down, cut me up, and not in a very gentle or kidding way. The hell is up with that? That is one of the reasons that I was able to see how dysfunctional the "We're All Friends" system was, Agents.)
Geek Social Fallacy #3: Friendship Before All
This is kind of a corollary to GSF #2, above. It basically states that Friendship must transcend even the most blatant of realities; a friend would do anything for you and if they don't, they're not a friend. In my experience this usually wasn't put to the test; Geeks I know are more passive than that. They'd never "test" a friendship for fear it would all fall apart.
However, Negativity Grrl would test it constantly; "I'm suffering and if everyone doesn't run to my aid, and PROVE that they would by coming over at 2 in the morning, then they're not real friends. If I were Evil Willow (from Buffy) no one would care enough to stop me from destroying the world." (Hint: If you can encapsulate your pain in a Buffy reference, you are well and truly deep into the Geek.)
That kind of shit just doesn't fly. Maybe I knew a better class of Geek than I thought; this kind of thing didn't happen too much around me. Once, I became sick as a dog at a geekmeet; would my friend please give me a ride home? No, he was busy playing videogames. It pissed me off, but it didn't destroy our friendship.
Geek Social Fallacy #4: Friendship Is Transitive
"Wouldn't it be great if I invited ALL of my friends over for one big party?"
I tried this twice. Once at my first apartment, and once on my birthday. IT DOES. NOT. WORK. In fact, it's a disaster. I mean, I actually saw the Dividing Line down the middle of the room; one group of friends hiding on one side, the other group plastered against the other, and only I had the POWER to cross the line. Truly fearsome.
This fallacy states that if all your friends like YOU, they must therefore all like EACH OTHER. If you have two friends that don't get along, then one of them must not be your friend, because shouldn't everyone that likes you like each other? So you'll have to DROP one of those other friends because they're being unmutual.
Geez. It's no reflection on YOU if THEY don't get along. I suffered with this one once upon a time, and it's related to the whole "Mediator" thing I mentioned above.
Simple solution, kids: Different circles of friends don't mix. Period. I once wrote about these "Circles" on my old website; if I ever can find an archived copy I'll re-post it here.
Geek Social Fallacy #5: Friends Do Everything Together
God forbid someone you know should go out and do something without you. I'll admit that when I moved into my current neighborhood, seven doors down from Agent ACK, I worried about the social etiquette of two friends living so close together.
Would we be expected to do EVERYTHING together? Would one of us be pissed off if the other was home, but didn't want to do anything that night? [BRRRING!] "I can see you through your living room window, M, you bastard! You're just watching TV! Get your ass over here now...!"
...as it turned out we were ADULTS so everything turned out just fine, but you can see how Fallacy #5 stuck with me even into adulthood. I'll tell you this: From the ages of 16 to about 20, I spent EVERY WEEKEND with the same group of friends. We did EVERYTHING together. It was euphoric; like I got a high off of just being with these folks. It was a sudden, tragic realization to me when I figured out that I didn't have a lot in common with them any more, one fine day during a group picnic when I looked around and thought, "What am I doing here?"
Wake-up calls like that can be scary, Agents. But it was for the best. How does one grow as a person unless one gets little hints every now and then?
Beware the Fallacies, Agents. They're subtle and, if you're surrounded by them on all sides, it may take you quite a while to realize that this isn't the way the world should work.
I'd like to thank Cargoweasel for pointing Michael S's website out to me. Putting into concrete terms what I have been observing my whole adult life really helps put things into perspective.
So the last time I wrote I was babysitting; Solitary Dad Duty for three days.
It worked out well; Little Agent P has his own way of doing things, thankyouverymuch, and wants to be left alone to do them-- provided a parent is still in the room to observe him. But the parent must be FACING him, y'understand, so that he knows he's the center; but not touching him or trying to interact with him because he's doing just fine on his own, thank you.
In other words, I have an XBox Kid. Meaning that if I'm alone with him I'd best rent an XBox game because at least then I'm facing him, not turning away to look at a computer screen.
My next computer, I've decided, WILL be a laptop. Kid-friendly, go-anywhere, daddy-can-get-some-WORK-done laptop.
Then I get back to the computer. And everything promptly goes STRAIGHT to Hell.
My server switched providers, thus screwing up my DNS for three days. No blog entries there. Then my email goes wonky, meaning SOME people can get through but only, apparently, if they're not CLIENTS with important TIME-SENSITIVE email.
Then hits The Busy: Murder mystery performances every evening and on the weekends. Both weekend shows are out of town. Crazy!
It's the season, don'cha know. Christmas. Everything in general gears up to a frenzied pitch, and that's especially true of the Arts and Entertainment industry. More advertising, more commercials, more more more.
In a frenzy of consumer culture, the Powers That Be fling out their tendrils to snare artists and entertainers to keep their Christmas machine going full steam ahead.
Whew. It's a little disconcerting.
But as of today, I have my email back, I've reduced the spam, I've got my schedule back under control, and I can WRITE. Thank you, God-- thank you. My organizing things in my head skill is still on the fritz -- thanks to holiday overload-- and oh look, I JUST NOW got a phone call booking me for ANOTHER murder mystery-- and there's an email reminding me about ANOTHER one-- Yee.
This is all positive, though. Make money for the holidays, and do exciting things; to me, that's a GOOD stress. Yes, it makes for a slight surreality, but hey-- I chose to be in the arts. If I wanted normal I'd have been an accountant. THEN my life would only get surreal around Income Tax time.
But at the risk of sounding too George Bailey, It's a Wonderful Life.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I apologize for not updating lately; at first, there was a three-day hiatus while I moved servers. Then there was some kind of path glitch which meant not only could I not update, the rest of you couldn't comment.
Yesterday and today are entirely different; I'm in the middle of a combat zone. The playing field: My home. The enemy: Time. The goal: Taking care of Baby M ALONE.
Mrs. M has been given a field assignment to paint windows for Christmas, which takes her all over the city. Yesterday she was gone for about TEN HOURS.
Yesterday I had Agent Mom over to help-- and when I say help, I mean SHE took care of the baby entirely on her own, and I was just there for company. (But I'm not allowed to just go down and work on the computer here; a), I'd feel guilty, and b), Woman started CLEANING MY HOUSE as well as taking care of baby, and she had my brother's DOGS with her and was going to try walking them WHILE taking the baby out in his stroller and generally being Superwoman.
I trembled in awe and shame at her consummate Holding Down The Fort for me (AND my brother) at the same time. How could I not attempt to rise to the occasion?
So I went and got coffee at Tim Horton's. WITH two hyperactive dogs in the car. Picture me balancing two coffees on the front seat in one of those cardboard trays while convincing the dogs NOT to jump over onto the front seat and eat the doughnuts, in a 1987 Dodge Aries K car with my knees up by my ears while driving, and you can get a whiff of the tension THERE.
Then we cleaned. I did the shower in the bathroom while mom vacuumed. I unloaded the dishwasher and she drymopped the floor. During all this, baby M is just having a grand old time noshing a cookie and turning it over and over in his hand, creating Kaleidoscop Cookie Art and experimenting to making toof prints with his four new teef.
He didn't sleep at ALL yesterday. We tried. But nossir! He would not go down. When that happens, it's best to have two people in the house. You can spell each other off. (Of course, in the case of Agent Mom, you're only there to talk to her while she does all the baby stuff. And lectures you about what YOU should be doing with the baby when she's not there.)
But today, Agents, I'm On My Own. Single Dad. I've done it before, for short periods-- but yesterday was TEN HOURS. Mrs. M assures me that today will only be four-- tops-- but I'm battening down the hatches.
If you don't hear from me again for a while, you know why.