Things are settling. I have a job and I may get another job. I may have found a room in a house also. I have at least three bands and I might just have time to play shows with them all. Since I will not have to pay for transportation (aside from maybe purchasing a bicycle) I will be making enough money to pay off the credit card bill and the ill-thought-out return to Fresno City College. I am not doing music on my own because I do not have any instruments up here, but I will soon enough once the dough starts rolling in.
I'm having kind of a hard time getting used to the fact that this is what life after college is like. I mean I knew that there would be a lot of work and grown-up stuff etc. but I had no idea that a college degree was like some sort of personal vow to accomplish something through it. Working as a clerk and a counselor will find my knowledge of Faulkner and Dante and Baudelaire going to waste, not to mention my musical skills. I figure I should be working at a publishing house or as a producer or something, doing something that relates to what I've done before. I suppose this is the price I pay for not speaking to my professors or counselors ever. Maybe I should have been more arrogant and instead of thinking myself below them for not knowing as much about Russian Literature, thinking that I was their equal and could have taken them on. So instead of 'no, no questions Bill Nickell, I should have said 'hey, stop wasting our time with all this minutae, we've got to start learning!' and he would say 'yes! you are a bright lad, I'm giving you a card redeemable at any party in Los Angeles for a job at a recording studio in Culver City' and I'd say 'this is unlikely but highly appreciated!'.
But no, you have to try for those jobs and be arrogant and lie on resumes. Or just have a bunch of friends that smoke expensive cigarettes and take half an hour to put their pants on. Or be born upper middle class and have parents that can buy you a few work-free months in a town where important jobs are. For me, it looks like two years of blissful stasis. I'll work and then work and then sleep and then work and then work and then play a show and then sleep four hours and then work and sleep for eight extra hours and etc. I might miss holidays because the jobs are so demanding, but damn it, I'll be able to afford my teaching credential after 780 days of this and then I'll have evenings and summers free for recording albums. I'll be twenty five when this is over and maybe thirty when I start teaching, the same age as my second grade teacher, Ms. McQueen, who was not yet wise enough to bring anything of depth to our study of geometric shapes and seven deadly sins. But I will have been wise enough. Just not ready, because if I was ready, I'd be there already, wouldn't I?
I realize the 'big time' isn't for me, because I can't even visualize what the big time is like. Jay-Z, Billy Joe Armstrong, Rivers Cuomo, these people don't really have anything that I want. The attention, the entourage, the debauchery, yeah, I'm not wanting for any of those things. Airplay maybe, but what is airplay besides the successful selling of your melody? Maybe it is just that I will never apply myself. Maybe I'm not taking enough vitamins. Maybe there isn't enough conflict in my life for me to be writing interesting songs anymore. I feel like I could do it, I just don't currently have the means or the space. And once I get those things, whammo. I've taken multi-month breaks before, one more isn't going to kill me. And in the meantime, all I really want is some friends, a junky car that I can drive incredibly long distances if I feel like it, 50 compact disks, and enough money for the occasional meal.