Tonight I drove for 90 minutes to headline a bar show. It went well. After the show, a bar patron (clearly a regular) shared his experience with Type II Diabetes with me, and said that guys our age really need to watch ourselves. He was 62. I was 46, and that knowledge shocked him because he thought I was much older. Now, in his defense, he was drunk, and an idiot. But its also undeniable that since going back to regular performing in 2011, my weight has ballooned and Im in far worse shape. I will be working on this. But the drive home did give me time to think. Even if I subsist on a diet of kale smoothies from here on out and find the time to work out once a day, theres still the lack of sleep and the body stress of adrenalin rushes. Its 1:25 am and the fumes of adrenalin are finally dissipating, and I will go to bed soon. And wake up at 7 and try to make it through the day with coffee as a supplement. The body wears out, you know. It just does. Its why my least favorite question is Where do you see yourself in five years? Theres no plan here. Im not moving. Ill just be 51. There will be no quitting of the day job to do this full-time, or any hope of ever becoming famous doing this, and Im truly fine with that. But at some point, it will just have to stop. Tonight, though, a woman came up afterwards and said she laughed so hard she did herself physical damage, and the small crowd who had never heard of me before (and wont remember my name tomorrow) laughed so hard and long that I dropped my final six minutes from my planned set because they didnt let me get there in time. In a room above a bar in St. Charles, Illinois. So one day I will have to quit. But it sure as shit wont be tonight.
Posted on: Thu, 30 Oct 2014 06:33:47 +0000
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