First, let me pull this foot out of my rear...

...courtesy of Violet Sky. She gently (in her calm Canadian manner) reminded me that I promised to start blogging again. Last December. Did I actually promise that? I'm lucky these days if I wake up and can remember what day it actually is, I've been so busy.

A quick catch-up: Mrs. Nighttime and I are legally separated as of the beginning of this past December. I don't want to go too much father into that, out of respect for her privacy. I will only say that this has been the hardest thing I have ever endured. I feel as though I have severed a part of my own body off, and quite frankly, it was easier in many respects to endure a liver transplant than to leave my marriage. I know she is still incredibly angry with me, bu I'm hoping that with time, she will forgive me for what I felt was my only option.

In December, I did a play at Blackfriars. It kept me sane, and also provided me with one of the best acting experiences of my life. It was the best ensemble cast I have ever worked with, and there was a lot of laughter both on and off stage.

Nothing really new on the job front, however, an opportunity popped up two weeks ag that has turned into the most potential since the debacle I had back in October. Through the help of a friend, I am now the assistant press officer for one of the two leading candidates for mayor of Rochester. We're having a special election on March 29th, as the current mayor left office in January to become the Lt. governor of NY State. My friend became his press officer, and asked me to help him as his assistant. If our guy wins the election, there is the very good potential that we could all go to city hall with him.

That's all for now. Yes, it's boring, but it's a way to start blogging again.

Turning a corner.

Last week was a good week, on the whole. I scored a major public relations coup for my theatre, by pitching a story to an anchorwoman for one of the TV stations (the local ABC affiliate) to cover the planned move to our new performance space this coming fall. There was a local event called "TheatreROCS," which brought together most of the performing arts organizations in Rochester together for an evening of presenting the public a smattering of what they have to offer. It was also a way of bringing awareness to the public of smaller performing arts organizations that don't always get the exposure that the larger organizations (such as my theatre) do.

This anchorwoman is well known in the area, and is also a big theatre-goer herself. She emceed the TheatreROCS event, and I got the idea to approach her and pitch the possibility of covering our move to our planned move. We met for breakfast about a week later, and she LOVED the idea. It's not going to be a one-shot deal either, but she is going to cover it as an ongoing event, from the initial start of the move, right up to opening night this coming September. our artistic director and board president were thrilled, as this is something that doesn't happen all that often here; television coverage of the arts.

Don't get me started on why, as that is a whole other issue.

The same day that I bagged the TV coverage, I did a staged reading for a film script with a director from RIT that I have worked with in the past, a grad student by the name of Neal Dhand. Very talented guy, I acted in 4 of his short films already, and this was a presentation of his thesis film, a full-length feature that is still in development. To my shock, he cast me in the lead. I was surprised and humbled, and even more so when I saw that I was acting with some of the A-list people here in town, several of whom I know. Now, yes, it is just a reading, not the actual shoot. It was a presentation for Neal's professors, a sort of thesis defense, with a Q and A afterwards. It went off very, very well, and Neal's comment to me was "You showed me nuances in this character I had not considered. You were terrific."

Who knows, maybe I have a shot at the lead when he films it? Here's hoping.

Next week is a big week, as I am acting in a one-night production at the Strong National Museum Of Play, a live version of a 1940's USO-style radio show, complete with songs and commercials from the era. I'm playing the announcer, as singing is not something I do. Well, I can do it, but I don't have the vocal training for stage work. At least I know my own limits as an actor. The museum is the second largest children's museum in the U.S., but also has many programs for adults as well.

So with all the down stuff that has happened recently, it was nice to get some positive things under my belt. Now, if I can only make that independently wealthy thing happen.

Hope springs eternal.

I have been in something of a funk lately. I would have thought with so many things going right, that the last thing I would have to deal with is being in a revolving blue mood. No, it's not the economy that bothers me, though it does impact me in some ways. It's not the stock market tanking worse than the Buffalo Bills did this season. It's just this odd feeling that I am not progressing as fast as I would like with my writing business, and in part that I need to get out of my current place of employment. Fast. Like, yesterday. Yes, I know I have expressed this opinion in the past, but the need to find a healthier work environment has never been more dire. It will mean giving up the nice, cushy environment of telecommuting every day, but at this point my mental health is of far greater importance. I'm just sick of my brain turning to goo every night that I log on to my work VPN and deal with the same stuff over, and over and over.

To that end, I have stepped up my job search efforts through relentless networking. I did get hooked up with a recruiter who was very supportive, and very impressed with my resume. They specialize in IT and healthcare, and this was the first recruiter that I have ever met that truly seemed personally interested in helping me. I need to follow-up with her today or tomorrow, but I am somewhat hopeful that she will be able to crack open some doors in places that I have not been able to get into in the past.

I also have needed to step up my business efforts. It's been a difficult transition to learn how to be a businessman, and I know a lot of it is my fault. I have been concentrating far more on the writing aspect, which is no less important, but I also need to concentrate on how to effectively market myself. I'm going to start next week by attending a local networking organization for small businesses to try and make more contacts and get better ideas.

I found some inspiration in my friend Sonia. She is a dynamic British transplant that has been living here in Rochester for many years, though she did a stint in Atlanta for a few years. She moved back here after deciding that two hour commutes was just not her thing anymore. Sonia was big in the PR community and film community here, as well as having an incredibly good outlook on life. We talked a lot about self-motivation, how we change and mature through different stages of life, and that she is going to use whatever contacts she has to try and help me out. We met at a local Starbucks, and between her and the cup of Sidamo, it was a much needed shot in the arm.

I have accomplished a great deal in the past year or so. I gained a great deal of traction in taking charge of my life again, like I used back in NYC. I lost a lot of that drive over the past few years, and worked like a dog to get it back.

I don't want to lose that momentum. I think it is time for a retread.

Broadcast me a joyful noise.

" We're sick of being jerked around
We all fall down."

I have a friend I will call "Sam." Sam is one of those people that look at life as something that is constantly out to get him. Mind you, he's had some rough going in recent years; multiple moves within a 2-3 year period, a job that he thought was going to be far better than it is, and dealing with a whole host of other ills. He's a friend that I have needed to step back from a bit, especially after a nasty incident last year that tested my patience. I can be a very loyal friend, but when I feel that friendship is being abused, I do not take it well.

All this aside, he is simply not an optimistic individual. It is not in his make-up, and therein lies the problem. Negativity. It seems as though over the past several years, I have been encountered too many people in my life that are of the "glass half empty" variety. It is especially difficult when I am trying hard to keep focus on carving out a new career, or rather an old passion that is turning into a new career.

The yin and yang that is life requires us to accept that which is inevitable; people in our lives come and go. They can energize us or depress us, but it is how we react to it that molds our outlook. I think that what partially fueled my depression in past years was the fact that all too often I paid too much heed to those that swung too far in the direction of that which is dark. It was easy, as misery does indeed love company. There was a certain solace in the fact that others were in an even more screwed up state than I was, which is pretty amazing looking back on it from a distance.

"Its been a bad day.
Please dont take a picture
Its been a bad day.
Please"

After going through my illness and transplant experience, you might think that it should be easy to look at life more positively, and on the whole, I do. Coming close to death (twice now, actually) made me understand that truth that I always knew, but never fully realized; life is fleeting. Enjoy your life now. One of my heroes, Joseph Campbell was asked by Bill Moyers, "You mean you are describing the search for the meaning of life?" "No." was Campbell's reply.
"I think that what we're searching for is an experience of being alive."

I think that this is what has allowed me to shift my view of who I am keeping company with these days. I don't deny the existence of the negative elements of my life, as this would be too Pollyana-ish of me. It would also go against the realistic, cynical part of my nature, which helps keep my common sense in tune. I do think though that it is far more important for me to maintain and nurture those friendships that help me keep focused on the energy that is positive, that will drive me towards making what I want to do a reality.

"Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings."

I'm resolute on not making any resolutions.

"New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." ~Mark Twain

As usual during this time of year, the standard question that is asked by friends and family is "So what resolutions have you made for the new year?" While I hate to sound moribund, I have come to the inescapable conclusion that making resolutions for the new year is the easiest way to break promises to yourself. I think having goals are a good thing, but, when ironclad resolutions are set-up, I think it is a recipe for failure, and extreme disappointment.

Even the term "resolution" carries with it the air of a non-committal attitude. Let's take a look at Congress. How many times have you read about them making "non-binding resolutions" regarding a particular issue? It is basically a way of saying "This situation sucks, we hate it, and we want to do something about it but don't have the power to." You can see the same thing done at the UN, the Hague, and just about every other governmental entity on the planet.

If we can't expect governments to stick to resolutions, why should we expect them in ourselves? I know, I know, we're better than the politicians, but still, we procrastinate, and we make excuses, and in the end, we don't commit to making the resolutions real, no matter how much we want to. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule, and even I fulfilled at least one resolution in my life, and that was to return to acting after my transplant. I don't know, maybe the whole "staring death in the face" thing had something to do with it.

There is a Zen saying: "When you seek it, you cannot find it." I think that this is what happens when you set resolutions.

I think maybe a better approach is to think; "What can I accomplish today that will mean something for this moment?" While I certainly have goals I would like to accomplish, I think that if you stay too focused on the far goal, you lose track of what is immediately important.

So, starting Monday, my two immediate goals are to look for a new job, and get my daily schedule in order with regard to my writing business. That, is the immediate concern.

Oh, and on an unrelated note, it was amazing to see Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey getting the Kennedy Center Award. (Ok, just ignore the fact that Bush is introducing them. That they're getting the award is what's important.) They rarely do it for non-Americans, much less not one, but two rockers.

Life in freefall...then back up again.

Sorry I have not posted in a couple of weeks, but life has been a bloody rollercoaster since just before Thanksgiving.

Turkey day itself went quite well, with the both my SIL's visiting from Buffalo with their families, as well as Mrs. Nighttime's aunt. A good time was had by all, but it was the events of just before and just after that made life interesting.

The Sunday prior, Mrs. N. got a phone call from an old high school friend and informed her that his mom died. She was sort of a second mom to Mrs. N, so as you can imagine, this hit her pretty hard. Her friend asked Mrs. N if she wouldn't mind singing at the funeral, which she gladly accepted. She went to Buffalo Tues. for the wake, stayed overnight with her aunt, and then went to the funeral Wed. morning. I was originally going to go to the wake, and then drive back to Rochester to go to work, but my place decided to call a staff meeting that I could not get out of. I probably should have just blown it off, but it was for all the work-from-home people like me, and it had to do with some big changes coming down the pike. In the end, I really didn't have a choice.

So, Turkey Day comes and goes, and then on Friday, I get a phone call from an old friend of about 35 years, who informs me that she just put her dad into hospice. He has been battling prostate cancer for about 5-6 years, but it appears as this time, it is going to win. I expect that at some point in the coming weeks, I will be making a trip down to NYC for a funeral. I guess that I am now at that age when I should be expecting more phone calls like this. Thank goodness my mom is healthy.

Now, on the plus side, the fundraiser for our new theatre with our alumnus, Donna Lynne Champlin went extremely well. She was wonderful to work with, and it was old home week for her as well. She has even told us that if she needs to come back for a second round of shows, she would be happy to do it.

Back on Halloween, I met an acquaintance that had left town for some time, and has now been back for the past few months. She used used to do PR for the local art house cinema that is near our theatre. Lovely British woman that I used to bring back boxes of PG Tips for on my visits to Canada. She is now in the media relations/PR dpet. of a large not-for-profit agency here in Rochester. I told her about my situation, the writing business, and how I am looking around for another job while building my business.

We were planning to get together for coffee, when she asked me if I would be interested in possibly doing some freelance PR work at her agency, that there may be a need for such things in the coming month. I told her I sure was, and e-mailed her some clips from my portfolio. (Articles I have written, PR releases, etc.) Out of the blue this past Wed. I get a phone call from her co-worker, who asks me if I might be interested in a full-time position there as a PR/media relations specialist. Apparently, my friend passed along my clips to her, and I have an interview this coming Tuesday.

Now, this is to fill the position for a woman on maternity leave until March, and who may (or may not) come back. Either way, it is a foot in the door and an opportunity I have been looking for a very long time. I have always known the value of networking, and hopefully, it will pay off in a big way now.

So, I am grabbing on to the bars, and just riding the rollercoaster to wherever it leads. Wish me luck on Tues.

Rough Boys.

While my musical musings these days tend to lean towards jazz and blues, I still have a deep fondness for rock, especially the rock of the late 60's and through much of the 70's, which I grew up with. I still remember with great clarity, listening to "Abbey Road," "Let It Be," and other Beatles albums with my friends, stealing them from their older brother's and sister's record collections. I was about 10 or 11 when "Let It Be" came out; myself, Camillo, Mark, and Craig all singing the title song together, but sounding more like the Mormon Tubercular Choir.

Around the same time, there was one album that came out that fascinated me. I didn't quite grasp what it was all about, but I recognized that the music was unique. That album was "Tommy," by The Who. It was the beginning of a love of this group that has lasted until today. While I enjoyed everything they put out, it wasn't until 1974 that one of their albums hit me square in the face, and spoke to me on a personal level as no music had ever done so.

"Quadrophenia." A loud, (Well, now what Who album isn't loud?) biting, heartbreaking piece of work by Pete Townshend. While it was a generation removed from me, set during the Mod movement of the early 60's, the themes it presented were something that any kid of 15 or 16 (which I was) could readily identify. Trying to fit in with the crowd, fashion, impressing girls, betrayal by friends, drugs, disillusion with one's heroes - these are all things that were the same whether you grew up in the Bronx, or Shepard's Bush, whether it was the early 60's or the mid-70's. I became a rabid Who fan, and in particular of Pete Townshend's writing ever since then .


"I see a man without a problem
I see a country always starved,
I hear the music of a heartbeat,
I walk, and people turn and laugh.

Is it in my head
Is it in my head
Is in my head here at the start?
Is it in my head
Is it in my head
Is it in my head, or in my heart?

I pick up phones and hear my history.
I dream of all the calls I miss.
I try to number those who love me,
And find exactly what the trouble is.

Is it in my head [etc.]

I feel I'm being followed,
My head is empty
Yet every word I say turns out a sentence.
Make love to a stranger
Just asking for directions
Turn from being help to being questions.

I see a man without a problem."

("Is It In My Head" - from Quadrophenia.)


The Who were the prototype for the punk bands of the 70's, and have often been referred to as rather aptly by the way, as the godfathers of punk rock. The death of Keith Moon, their insane, brilliant drummer crushed so many of us, and changed the style of the Who from that point on. They weren't the same after Moon the Loon died.

Musically, they were all incredibly talented, but the one that always made me drop my jaw was their bassist, John Entwistle. He was more than a bassist; he was a true musician, with abilities on other instruments as well, including the French horn. His style of bass playing changed everything, as he played the instrument not just to hold down the groove, but as a lead instrument. Listen to so many Who records and you'll see what I mean, but, this is a perfect example. This video is from their movie, "The Kids Are Alright," made shortly before Keith Moon died in 1978. It is an isolated camera shot of Entwistle during their performance of "Won't Get Fooled Again." Anyone who has ever seen the original clip from the movie knows how powerful that performance was, and then seeing Entwistle's contribution, you understand just what a genius he was. As Townshend has stated, "He realized he had the power to change the fucking instrument!"

I only saw The Who once, as I never had the money to see them in concert way back when. I saw them in 1989, on the 20th anniversary of Tommy tour, and still have the concert shirt. I have most of Pete Townshend's solo work, and still hope to get to see him when he comes around at some point. Oh, and if you think that they were just another dinosaur rock band, check this clip from the 2001 "Concert For NY," which was done not long after 9/11. "Won't Get Fooled Again," by a bunch of then almost 60 year-olds, that by everyone's estimation, stole the show.

"A tough guy, a helpless dancer.
A romantic, is it me for a moment?
A bloody lunatic, I'll even carry your bags.
A beggar, a hypocrite, love reign over me."

I gotta get outta this place...

...if it's the last thing I ever do.

The job. As if it were not already the most mind numbing thing I can think of, along comes two things that just add to my own sense of impatience of getting out sooner rather than later.

Late last week, I get an e-mail from the supervisor that handles all of our training regarding some more responsibilities that will be foisted upon us, not that we had a say in the matter, mind you. The pain has been spread out amongst everyone on this program, not just us telecommuters. So yesterday I had to take two hours out of my day to learn a new two new skill sets that, truth be told, could just as easily have been handled with handouts. (Even the trainer admitted this.)

Is there more money to be added to our regular bi-weekly pittance for having these new skills? Yeah, right, I should know better.

So, off I go, log onto MS Web Meeting, and sit through two useless hours of following a PowerPoint presentation that really was not necessary. For those of us that have been on this program for some time, myself included, there was really no need to undergo this. All they had to do was give us the handouts, (in our case, via e-mail) and some very brief, concise instructions on parameters for using them, and all would be good.

Actually, we got lucky; the client wanted a 7 hour training on this!!! Insane? You bet. Thankfully our trainer talked them out of it. The only saving grace was two hours of overtime in the coffer.

However, what has finally got my goat is the fact that our new schedules have come out, and I was not given the times and days off I have requested. It was not all that different from what I have now, but it was the fact that this was the umpteenth time that I have not gotten the schedule I have asked for. Mind you, I was:

A. One of two people that were the prototypes for this telecommuting program and proved that it could work.

B. Have been given an award for work that I have done regarding assisting people in the IM chat room we have for us that telecommute.

C. Was one of two people that field tested a prototypes virtual work environment that is planning on being implemented.

I didn't think that after all of this it would be too much to ask for a schedule that suits my needs. As a result, I may not be able to audition for a show I have had my heart set on going for, as I may not be able to fit in the rehearsals if I do make it in.

I am tired of having my working life dictated to. When I started my freelance writing business, I made a plan to at least be able to drop to part-time at my job within a year. (In other words, at least 50% of my income would be generated from the freelance writing to make that a reality.) I have decided to move that timetable to six months. One way or another, I am going to drop this god-forsaken job by early next year, if it is the last thing I ever do. I am going to also start delving hot and heavy into learning editing and proofreading, as this is really where there are a ton of opportunities.

Yes, I know, I should feel lucky I have a job. It's just not enough anymore.

The best payback..........

In between coughing fits, I did find time to laugh hard......which then made the coughing worthwhile......The moral of the story below? Living well is the best revenge.
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All women should live so long as to be this kind of old lady!

Toward the end of Sunday service, the Minister asked, 'How many of you have forgiven your enemies?'
80% held up their hands.

The Minister then repeated his question.

All responded this time, except one small elderly lady.

'Mrs. Neely?'; 'Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?'

I don't have any.' She replied, smiling sweetly.

'Mrs. Neely, that is very unusual. How old are you?'

'Ninety-eight.' she replied.

'Oh, Mrs. Neely, would you please come down in front & tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years & not have an enemy in the world?'

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said:
'I outlived the bitches.'