Friday March 20, 2020
One week in and that bitch ass viral invader looks like he is here to stay. He walked onto my green pastoral shores, took a dump on my town, destroyed our economy, struck fear in the hearts of the population, killed several people and dug his tentacles or roots or whatever the fuck that non-nucleus still not sars or mers wannabe bitch ass has for limbs into the beautiful earth of the NW and said suck on this, people.
Yeah well you know what you can suck, Covid. My balls. That’s right. You can suck those, buddy. Suck them all the way. I’m still standing. I’m still here.
You walk into my town? You take center stage? Well, that, to me, is nothing more than an invitation to play.
So let’s play. Let’s go. Let’s get it on. You’ve made your offer, I got you, I see you…yep I’m breathing that in…
And my brain goes click, boom, bust, a swing, a punch, I post this to facebook, and the fight is on:
Why I hate that fucker Covid and want him to suck my balls
One of the great challenges in life is to continue to find ways to raise yourself up. This is what we get to do. This is our gift. Doesn’t matter where you start, doesn’t matter what you start with, every day you have a chance to raise yourself up. This is what we get to do until death comes and claims us and the journey’s over. Life is like a giant game of wack a mole or miniature golf. You’re racing to get all the holes in you can, pound all the moles, until the buzzer sounds. Some people wig the fuck out and try to smash all the moles and hide away and be safe and some people are like, hey this is the ride, whacking the moles itself, I’m going to enjoy it, and some people can’t find the course and aren’t sure what any of the games are and some people just bitch about the fact that the game ends, and some people can’t wait for it to end…and so on and so forth. There are endless varieties of the game and endless ways to play.
What I’ve found as I play this game is that I always have the chance to get better. To go farther. To dig deeper. To not just grab my putter and swing for the fences but really start to understand the nuances of the game. Oh yes. To maybe even one day be like Chevy Chase in Caddyshack, blindfolded, nailing it tight, being the ball. At least until I wig out during the tournament because I can’t play for money. Maybe it’s better to be Danny…
No matter.
While we’re playing we always have the chance to raise ourselves up. And by raising ourselves up, what comes to mind for me is the work of Abraham Maslow, the psychologist who devised the hierarchy of needs. The hierarchy of needs is represented in the shape of a ladder. It starts with security and safety at its base, then moves up the rungs from community, health, friendship, etc…to the highest rung, self-actualization. This is you, operating at your highest potential, you, being what you is, to your greatest ability. This is the human being operating from their frontal lobes, the human being creative, inventive, forward thinking, optimistic, positive, engaged, purposeful, deep…and beautiful. From this place we make beautiful things.
Well, a dumbshit non-nucleus fuck like fucking Covid stumbles onto our green pastoral shores and starts slinging his shit around and suddenly we quickly climb down the ladder. Like fast. We end up in that security place. The basement. We dive into our reptile brain. We’re shitting bricks. And we’re scared. And we stay there.
(Right now I’m listening to my wife, who is a teacher, have video conference calls with her kids, she’s legitimately excited to talk to them and they are excited to talk to her. I’m not in my basement reptile place right now, not when I hear that, no sir…beautiful woman doing beautiful things. Fucking a.)
Anyway, we’re in this reptile place. And that sucks. It sucks that some punk ass dipshit viral bug puts us here. And what really sucks is what is lost. What we can lose. What can disappear, if not forever, then for a very long time.
To complicate matters, there is a level, a rung on the ladder, where we as a society all collectively decide to live. Somewhere on the ladder we say this is where, communally, we are going to exist. It’s not the highest rung. It’s somewhere but it’s not there. Individuals, maybe organizations, they make steps to go farther. Artists do this. They want to explore, they want to create, they want to dig deeper. Scientists, inventors, authors, really good teachers — they do this too. It’s risky. And it’s hard. And it can be scary. It’s also a lot of fun. My family calls it that excited/scared place. A good place to be. When you make the decision to step out into the unknown and climb higher, you forgo a lot of the safety and comfort you receive just going along to get along. You’re living on the edge, you’re the most exposed, and you’ve got the farthest to drop when shit gets hard. In contrast, a reptile brain place has different perks. You’re safe. You’re secure. And because safety and security are your primary desires, you spend your resources and energy making sure you meet these basic demands. The more life gets crazy, the more you make sure you’re covered, and so on and so forth, until you die or live in peace for a long time or that bitch ass Covid lands. It’s a choice. An exchange. Constantly. For both the individual and the society they live in.
To quote Momo, an artist friend I met while doing a show in the kind of place I hope survives this shit…
“You can feel comfortable, or you can feel alive”.
That is why I want Covid to suck my balls.
Seattle, for me, has been the highest rung on the ladder. That’s what this town has offered, and that’s what I’ve been able to do here. I’m a writer and an artist and in this town for the last few years all I’ve done is play. And everywhere I’ve turned, I’ve seen people and places operating at their highest rung on the ladder. It’s absolutely beautiful to witness, inspiring to participate in. It’s been the best.
I’m not interested in letting Covid destroy this. For me. For others. For my kid.
I know how delicate and fragile such places can be. Whether it is a theater, an artist group, or just a state of mind…these places take work, and dedication, and can quickly be lost, forgotten, gone. The longer, and tougher, and darker Covid’s presence on our shores gets the more will be lost in areas where it really truly counts.
I’m not anything special. I’m just someone who cares a lot about these places and the life they offer, and is committed to climbing the ladder and hanging on to the highest rung I can.
I figured the best thing to do now that that reptile-brain bitch ass non-nucleus asswipe was here was to pick a fight with the motherfucker.
I’m seven rounds in. It’s been a bit of a struggle. Not much has worked to this point. Truth is Covid is kicking ass right now.
But I’m in. And I want to see him sucking my balls soon, and see my daughter and my town climbing that ladder.
You can follow along at www.livefromtheepicenter.com