The Most Important Thing

I was watching an advertisement for Masterclass on YouTube with Spike Lee.  At the end of the piece, he said something which brought tears to my eyes:  "The majority of people live, work and die and hate every minute of it.  So if you can make a living doing what you love -- you've won."
And yet, why is it so difficult to do that very thing?  So many people strive to win and fail.  Or do they not try hard enough?  Or do they even know what it is they enjoy doing?
I've thought about this about my own life for many years.  No one wants to grow up to be a copier repairman.  It's a stressful and thankless job, not to mention an underpaid one.  Most Eastern philosophies such as Taoism, Hinduism and Buddhism think one must accept their lot in life and make the best of it.  Basically, bullshitting yourself into thinking you like your job when, in fact, you don't. 
I think the only way to win this game of life is to get serious.  To blast out of your life all the various and sundry accoutrements that halt and hinder your progress toward doing what you love and making a living doing so.  How to do so?  One has to isolate and categorize the rungs of the ladder:

1)  What is it you love to do?

2)  How is one recognized for doing it?

3)  What careers are available for those who do it?

4)  How long will this take?

5)  What must you sacrifice in order to do it?

6)  Is it worth it?

7)  If you're serious about it, never give up.

I love writing.  This is the one thing I have done since I was a child and continue to do to some extent throughout my life.  But I could fill a warehouse with the failed attempts at novels and scattered poems that I've never even had the courage to submit.  But I think, now, I will submit those poems.  I did this once when I was in high school, but I was had.  It's called 'vanity publishing' and my vanity was certainly hooked.  I won a 'Silver Certificate' and had my poem published in an anthology called 'Poems of the Western World'...wha??  It only served to add importance and significance to those so-called poets who pined for such things.  I guess the fact I still have the ponderous tome in my library is evidence enough that my vanity has not waned in the interim.
But this time my submissions will be to actual poetry magazines and publications.  I want to know what the world thinks of them and how I can improve my craft.  Time will tell.  And I will keep whoever reads this blog appraised of the situation as it develops.
Until then, I am recalibrating my compass for a different pole... maybe I'll win.

The Sleeper Must Awaken!

What's it been?  Almost four years since the last installment?  Brian, why don't you just let this blog die? 
Just moved into Sacramento this past December.  I like the space and the cleanliness of the place, but I can't stand big cities.  My neighbor smokes on her balcony casually dropping her butts onto my front porch while playing hip-hop music, loudly, from her smartphone.  I open the front door of my apartment and the wonderful smell of tobacco smoke assaults me.  My tub takes twenty or so minutes to drain after a fifteen minute shower.  It is not uncommon to find homeless people digging for grubs in the back of the building, nor for police choppers to announce overhead to call 911 if you find a medium-sized built man in his late 20's with grey sneakers and a black hoodie.  I've heard residents call it the "Ghettocopter".   Yesterday, I opened my windows to air the place out for once, taking advantage of the warm, clear, spring weather, and played some of my favorite classical pieces at a good volume to discourage the upstairs neighbor from her usual, musical pursuits.
Why did I move?  Well, it made sense for a couple of reasons.  Gone are the 70 mile commutes (140 miles both ways), and the landlord raised the rent by $150 twice in two years.  I knew it was going to happen.  When the 11th St. bridge was finished in October of 2017, I told myself that that was going to start a surge of rent increases in the downtown area.  Sure enough.  It wasn't a week later that I was told the inevitable news.  So, I found myself a place for $1,000/mo. and so far, so good.  Overall, I am a happier person for the change.  I am sure my car thanks me for it as well.
There was a game convention not a few miles away from my new residence this past month called Sac ConQuest.  I didn't go.  I felt the twinge to go.  I wanted to play games and have some fun.  I wanted to meet new friends in the hobby of board and card games, but I was afraid of what I would find.  You see, I quit going to game conventions some years ago because I saw the same people that I couldn't stand over and over again.  Look, there are two types of gamers:  Those that perform ritual acts of hygiene and Those who do not.  I hate to bring up such a trope, but it's a truism.  I also find that those who do not partake in establishing good hygiene also have mental issues:  OCD, ADHD, Asberger's, and a host of little to large placements in the Autism Spectrum.  The pot is calling the kettle black here because I inherited my ADHD from my father who also has it.  But just because I have a condition (however innocuous) doesn't mean I have to like everyone who has it.  There is a frequent condition in gaming (particularly board gaming) called AP or Analysis Paralysis; this is a condition where a person will sit there for an egregious amount of time thinking over every possible combination of moves to come up with the winning one, or at least, the best one.  I understand that behavior if it were a world championship chess match worth half a million dollars in prize money, but for a friendly game of Caylus at a game convention?  And these were the main reasons I didn't go to the convention.  The weariness of having to endure people versus the fun to be had in a board game.  I found the former to outweigh the latter in my mental balance (or perhaps imbalance).
So, I have decided, therefore, to call my gaming days quits, at least for board and card games.  I'll stick with my old pals role-playing games and video games (PC only - screw consoles!). 
And I have decided to go back to being a wordsmith and penning and reciting some poems.  I will try to link up with the Sacramento Poetry Center again and see if things have changed.  (I have already looked at their website and - damn!  Things have changed!)  The last time I graced their podium was in August of 2005.  Now, I will have to screw my courage to the sticking post -- again.
Thanks for enduring me for another quadrennial blogpost.  Hopefully, I will write again sooner rather than later.