Within Me, Without Me

As I write my "memoirs" of my life in show business, I feel as if it is actually over now. If I were already employed by a production company, I'm sure I'd have at least intermittent gigs, because I've been doing it since the eighties and know my stuff really well. Moving to Albuquerque in the depths of the worst economic crash in history was not a good career move unless the move was out of the career. I was the old man in the biz ten years ago. I'm still in Facebook contact with dozens of my coworkers in Massachusetts, and they have been working alternating weeks for a long time.

When I began to volunteer building scenery at Albuquerque Little Theatre, I saw my future in a man named Matthew. He's in his seventies, and volunteers one day a week when he's in town. At this moment he's in Sarasota, Florida being a snowbird. I expect him to return any week now, because it's getting ready to get unbearably hot down there. Anyway, he's a pretty good carpenter, but he's past the point where he could be a professional at it. Maybe it's not my future. Maybe I'm there.

I'm hoping to get started soon on the set for The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, and I'm hoping Colby has money in his budget to pay me for it. With a week-long trip to Meadville, PA coming up in April and a move to Meadville coming up in June / July, job hunting here has become little more than a habit. I'm spending more psychic energy wondering what life will be like in northwestern Pennsylvania. I'm certainly not considering jobs that specify the use of my reliable vehicle; I skip over jobs requiring certifications, extensive training or union membership; college degrees are out of the question; and salesmanship is just out of my range of abilities. I still scour the advertisements, and even occasionally find something to apply for. But those eighty guys that also apply for everything I apply for are still there, most still much younger, most in much more need than I am. Truth be told, although our resources are dwindling, we do still have resources. I know that many of those eighty guys are in much worse straits than we are.

Meanwhile, I have my blogs to keep my mind busy. I've long wanted to write these stories of my fascinating life, but never had the time. More importantly, Carmen has long wanted me to write them. The fact that nobody else cares about them is an unpleasant truth, but onward I plunge. Life flows on within me and without me.