captkevman

Last week, I managed to come down with this season’s flu, along with a bit of pneumonia. Over the course of the past few years, I’ve managed to get West Nile and H1N1, but neither of them kicked my butt like this year’s one-two punch of Flu + Pneumonia. On Day Four, I managed to get to the doctor’s office, where I was prescribed an antibiotic, as well as a steroid to combat my combined ailments. The steroid was prednisone, and the dosage went something like this: 6 pills on Day 1, 5 pills on Day 2, 4 pills on Day 3, etc.

On Day 2 (the morning after I took the initial 6 pills), I woke up feeling better than I’ve felt in years.

Seriously - that’s not an exaggeration.

Normally, when I wake up, I’m groggy, and overall annoyed and angry. That morning, I was feeling very positive, and I was joking around with the kids and getting them up and ready for school in an almost melodic way. Normally, it’s a struggle to get them even out of bed, let alone dressed and out the door.

I was lucid and acutely aware of the day ahead. Normally, I stagger through my day in a hazy fog, trying to get from task to task to get through the day. Often, I find my brain “frozen” - overwhelmed at the sheer volume of things I have to get done. Not that day, though: I began my day with a sense of clear purpose, as if a veil had been lifted from around my brain.

I immediately knew the steroid must have had something to do with it, and I knew that it wouldn’t last. Which begged the question: are my normal daily meds hurting me more than helping me?

I’ve spent the last few years in a constant state of “scatterbrain.” The simplest tasks overwhelm me. I’ve always thought I was just disorganized, and I dismissed it as my A.D.D. “acting up.” But in retrospect, it’s been much more than that.

A little over two years ago, I decided I wanted to start cartooning again. I spent the following several months trying to come up with a concept, and eventually decided what I wanted to do (an amalgam of many different ideas). In Fall of 2009, I started the strip, but I was only able to produce a small handful before I got in my own way enough to derail it.

I’ve been wondering what’s so wrong with me that I can’t do the simple things that seem easy for most other people. I think I’m finally realizing that the meds I’ve been on for years have been essentially lobotomizing me, keeping me from functioning as I need to.

What happens now, I have no idea. But I’ll be heading to the doctor to have a chat with him and see where things go from there.

Wow. I found this while Googling myself (upon discovering some other “captkevman” selling sketchy things on another site). I completely forgot that I had written this. A little background: I had just launched a website targeted at GarageBand users. And I was still giddy with excitement about GarageBand.

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GarageBand: Stirring the Creative Soul
Posted by CaptKevMan on Wed Feb 11, 2004 12:13 am
(personal editorial) by Kevin Copeland (“CaptKevMan”)
MacJukebox Founder & Publisher

I remember watching the Grammys; it was either 1984 or 1985, and there was a performance tribute to the then-emerging genre of electronic music. In the midst of a fortress of synthesizers, drum machines, sequencers, arpeggiators, electric pianos, and countless miles of cables, four musicians charged about like mad scientists – tweaking knobs, adjusting sliders, pushing buttons…and playing keyboards.

Herbie Hancock. Stevie Wonder. Howard Jones. Thomas Dolby.

The first two were already legends of the ivories. The latter two were legends in the making.

It was with awe and amazement that I watched this performance, and it was at that moment I decided that, at the wizened age of fourteen, I had found my calling in life. I would do whatever it would take to be able to do what they were doing. Well, everything short of study classical piano. A guy has to draw the line somewhere, after all.

(Hey…I was fourteen…classical piano was for Liberace-types, not cool synth kids!)

Within months, I was bussing tables at a busy local seafood restaurant, saving every penny that happened to cross my path. I subscribed to Keyboard magazine, and I studied Howard Jones’ sophomore album, Dream Into Action. It simply amazed me that one person could do all that stuff…without the aid of a band. Complete command over the creative process: a control freak’s dream!

After a summer of miserly living, I finally schlepped to the local music shop (the rock shop, mind you…not the student music store I had been frequenting throughout junior high band. Nosirree, not me…I was about to step into the Big Time!). I putzed around with the synths they had in the keyboard section until someone scolded me not to touch the expensive equipment.

“I’m actually thinking of buying one of these,” I asserted.

With a wry grin, the guy leaned over and, with one of those Oh-Isn’t-This-Just-Adorable tones, he asked, “Oh really? And how much are you looking to spend there, kiddo?”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my entire summer’s worth of blood, sweat, and tears, which I previously had changed into nice, crisp $100 bills.

“About $1500,” I replied, plainly.

Well, after that, the guy couldn’t seem to try to help me fast enough. But as it turned out, I had to venture elsewhere to buy my first synthesizer (note: I was not buying a “keyboard”…this was the 80’s, and I was buying a Sophisticated Electronic Musical Instrument™ worthy of the title synthesizer).

Thus began my brief love affair with writing music. I ended up getting an Akai AX-80, which was sort of a “beginners’ synth;” at least, I called it that, since it had LED bar graphs across the entire face of the board that represented the different analog parameters of the programmed patches. I figured it’d be easier to learn to program if I could “see” what I was doing. (Well, that…and it looked really cool). The next summer, I continued my busboy job and was able to swing another synth (a Roland alphaJuno 1) and a drum machine (Roland TR-505). By the time my junior year in high school rolled around, I was Mr. Electronic Music Guy.

For Christmas that year, my parents gave me a Commodore SX-64, and a family friend gave me a copy of Dr. T’s Sequencer and a MIDI interface. My setup was virtually complete! I whiled away my time tweaking, pushing, programming, playing to my little heart’s content. I was a Happy Lad.

Ah, the Good Ole Days™, A young teenager lives the condensed American Dream, works hard and saves all his money to get a buttload of musical equipment. It doesn’t get much better than that, right?

( * Cue warm fuzzy sunset ending * )

( * Fade to credits* )

Now, some 16-18 years later, after abandoning my musical dreams in favor of things like food, shelter, and family, I’ve recently found myself at a crossroads.

While music was always my passion, art and graphics are in my blood, so I ended up bastardizing even those talents into perfecting the art of taking other people’s creations and making them print. Or scanning them. I can’t even call myself an artist anymore; I’m a play-dough mold operator. I take cans of goo and turn them into something resembling product. Somewhere along the line, making a paycheck and paying the bills became more important than expressing myself. I was no longer a creator. I was a consumer. Heck, I might even qualify for less than a consumer: I simply Feed the Economic Machine. My work has little, if any, importance in the grand scheme of things. I’m a graphics monkey. Throw me your PowerPoint files, I’ll make ‘em print for you. Don’t know how to set up Quark Xpress files for prepress? I’m your guy.

And so it’s been for the past dozen years or so. Occasionaly, I’d break out a pencil and start sketching or cartooning a bit. Occasionally, I’d find myself window shopping at the music stores, staring dismally at the price tags on the equipment, resigning myself to the fact that it’ll be a long while until I am able to play with creating music again.

So, I’ve kept on working. And I’ve kept on longing for that spark to come back. Over time, I’ve realized that I need to surround myself with creativity again. Over the past several months, I’ve taken steps to involve myself in local design groups, I’ve enrolled in school online to complete my degree…things have been going well. I’m on my way back to being a designer again. I’m on my way to being a creator again.

But something was still missing. That is, until January 6, 2004.

Like many other Mac geeks, I found myself glued to my monitor for the MacWorld San Francisco 2004 keynote speech by Steve Jobs. I like to watch the keynote whenever possible, because (A) there’s just something inherently spiffy about watching Steve Jobs give a presentation, and (B) I’m just that much of a Mac dork. For some reason, I get really excited hearing announcements for great new products that I just can’t afford.

But this year was different. This was the year that GarageBand was announced.

Hearing the introduction of GarageBand, along with Steve’s demonstration with John Mayer, was one of the few true, “I’m going to pee myself with excitement!” moments in recent memory.

All this time longing to create again. All those desperate, fruitless trips to the music stores. None of it matters now. Apple has just delivered my answer in the form of a $50 “digital lifestyle” suite of applications.

I became so excited about GarageBand that I started a website for it (nevermind the fact that I’ve never really run a website before). I wondered how many other people were out there who, like me, had relegated the notion of creating music to the “when I win the lottery” list of to-do items.

Quickly, the world has taken notice of GarageBand, and just as quickly, the GarageBand users community has exploded on the scene. Websites like MacJukebox, iCompositions, MacJams, SonicCat, and MacBand are just the beginning. There are hundreds of people sharing thousands of files already. People like me, maybe…who once had a dream of writing a little song or two, but just never got around to it. Or maybe people like my son, who loves music, but didn’t care too much for middle school band.

While GarageBand may be intended as a musical composition tool “for the rest of us”, it has proven to me to be much more than that; it possesses the power to rekindle the creative enthusiasm of what seems like a lifetime ago. Somehow, Apple has found a way to bottle the fountain of youth, and has allowed me to put it inside my Mac.

So, why did I make you trudge through that long story of my youthful zeal and early musical experience? Because until this re-awakening of creative energy, I hadn’t felt anything like it since those few years of my youth, with my focus unwavered, working toward my goals of musical bliss. Not all of my current ambitions are necessarily musical, but without my desire to create music again, I don’t think it would be possible to pursue any of them with the passion I currently feel for all of them. I think I can credit GarageBand for that.

So, I’d like to offer my sincerest and most heartfelt thanks to Apple for making this personal renaissance possible.

Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I have more creating to do.

-CKM

=======

Postscript: The online degree program I was pursuing at the time fizzled out. Of the GarageBand websites listed, only iCompositions and MacJams survive (to my knowledge). And apparently, I’ve felt just as creatively impotent fairly consistently since posting this over six years ago. But I’m still trying.

(my DEVO Concert Review - Show date: July 30, 2010 at The National in Richmond, VA)

(Father Spud & Tater Tot)

Pre-Show

I had been looking forward to the Richmond, VA DEVO concert since it was announced in early June. Unfortunately, business hasn’t been as brisk as I’d like (I’m an independent tech consultant, still just getting started), and it looked like I was going to have to miss the show. (I even lamented a bit about it in a DEVOlved post on the ClubDevo.com forums). Then, out of nowhere, the Devolutionary Army forum announced a ticket giveaway; I entered and won guest passes to the show a mere two days ahead of time. To say I was ecstatic would be the understatement of the summer. I had taken my 18-year-old son to see them in D.C. in November, and in the wake of that show, my 10-year-old daughter Emily expressed her desire to see DEVO in concert the next time they came around. It was her turn, and when I told her we had won the tickets, she was giddy with excitement.

Emily & I left around 3:00 p.m. to head to Richmond for a 9:00 p.m. showtime at The National. Richmond is normally about 2 hours away, but in Friday afternoon traffic, it can be as much as 4 hours. We got about 25 minutes away when I realized I had forgotten my wallet. A quick backtrack and 45 minutes later, we were back on our way at about the same place. While stuck in traffic, the afternoon sun was bothering Emily, who is a little short for the visors to have any effect, so I had her pop open an umbrella, and she busied herself drawing to pass the time. While under her makeshift sun-shaded studio, she kept quizzing me about the band: “Who’s the leader?” “What are their last names?” “If Josh is their drummer, why won’t he be there tonight?” “If Jeff is playing with them, doesn’t that mean he’s in DEVO, too? I think it should.” (Although she loves DEVO, she’s been more interested in their music — she’s still a little young to be concerned with obsessive fan details). An hour or so later, she emerged with her drawing of DEVO, complete with all 6 members (including Jeff, whom she was very concerned would feel left out):

[She made a point to thank the band for the concert, since she was aware that we wouldn’t have been able to swing it otherwise. Sweet kid.] ;^)

We arrived in Richmond around 7:00 p.m. to find about 10 DEVOtees in line already. They wore a variety of DEVO shirts, and one had a chrome Energy Dome (I recognized that Spud from the November show in D.C.). I stepped over to the ticket window and claimed the guest passes and the After Show passes (which I wasn’t expecting, but I was pleasantly surprised to receive). As we were waiting, it just so happened that the very next people to get in line were another father and similar-aged daughter, and then two parents with their 8-year-old son. DEVO certainly has multi-generational appeal, and not just because of DEVO 2.0 (all the kids there had said they prefer the original over the kids version).

The doors opened, and the merch table was right inside the main doors. No plastic, though, so I had to find an ATM. Emily & I claimed a spot at the right side of the front row, and I ventured out to the lobby to find an ATM. I found it, but for some reason, it didn’t like either of my bank cards. After wrestling with it for about 10 minutes, I finally was able to procure some cash and headed out to the merch table, which by that time had a line of about a dozen Spuds. As I was waiting, I met fellow Spud Bob, who was attending the show solo. I also saw Michael Pilmer, and introduced myself as the Richmond forums contest winner, and thanked him and the band for the show. He spotted a few DEVOtees with custom t-shirts, and after he snapped a few pics of them, I told him about Emily’s custom t-shirt.  After purchasing a blue Energy Dome for Emily and a Something For Everybody mask for myself (since my head is too big for the Domes…dangit!), Bob & I headed back in where Emily was saving a spot. Almost as if he had been waiting for us, Michael came right up and asked Emily to pose for a photo for the band’s archive/website. I also met fellow Spud (and Akron native) Matt, as well as fellow ClubDevo.com forum member ScumFox (another young Spud). We buckled down to wait for the show to start.

At promptly 9:00 p.m., the house lights dimmed and the opening act took the stage. It was a band called QUAL (I think), consisting of two bassists and a drummer, all appearing to be in their early to mid-twenties. For whatever reason, they felt it necessary to drop the F- and M-F Bombs as frequently as possible, as well as encouraging the crowd to drink and “get f-ed up,” because “we like f-ing ladies.” I wasn’t terribly impressed with their stage presence, and their music was at least somewhat sequenced. They were a metal-style band that ran the bulk of the vocal tracks through an auto-tune. Word from the folks in my immediate vicinity was that these guys won a local contest to open for DEVO. Lucky bastards. On a positive note, they did have some compelling bass lines. The crowd endured QUAL for about 45 minutes until they made a much-appreciated exit and the stage crew started setting up for the main event.

The Show

DEVO took the stage in the new Something For Everybody reflective gray suits and masks at 10 p.m. with a crowd-pumping performance of Don’t Shoot (I’m a Man), and immediately segued into a bone-thumping delivery of Peek-A-Boo. They interspersed old and new — the next song was What We Do, followed by Going Under, then Fresh, and back to That’s Good. Somewhere in there, they lost the masks and  gray jackets and put on the blue Domes. The first set closed with a triple shot from Freedom of Choice: Girl U Want, Whip It, and Planet Earth. The entire show was punctuated with the brilliant full-stage animated backdrop, which streamed accompanying video to each song (but our vantage point kept me focused mainly on the band).

The DEVO Corporate Anthem played during a brief intermission. Upon seeing the video on the stage display, Emily turned to me and asked, “Is that them when they were young?” Realizing I was a bit younger than she is when Duty Now was released (but not much older than her when I discovered it), I assured her yes, that was indeed them (except of course for Jeff and the otherwise-engaged Josh).

Time for a bit of a confession here: I was trying to keep up with the set list and details by shouting the songs into my iPhone’s voice memo app to recall later, but there was just too much other noise (and its battery was quickly dying). And honestly, between trying to make sure tiny Emily was safe from the surging crowd and trying to get some halfway decent photos, I forsake (forsook?) my chronology duties and just enjoyed the show as a hardcore Spud. During the second set, though, I did jot down the tracks for posterity (and this report). The rest I filled in with the show’s posting at setlist.fm. At any rate, back to the show:

At the close of the Anthem, the Boys stormed the stage in their yellow jumpsuits and delivered a tight performance of Satisfaction, then Bob 1 commanded a great performance of Secret Agent Man. Next, the crowd completely went nuts as the opening riffs of Uncontrollable Urge played, and despite the “no moshing” rule at the venue, everyone started jumping around and banging into one another. After I made sure to protect a perimeter around Emily and the stage barrier, I decided to let loose and join in the fun a bit. Not a minute later, as I threw one arm in the air and went a bit ballistic myself, I got knocked into ScumFox, and my right elbow connected soundly with his left ear. His red Dome and thicket of curly hair did very little to cushion the blow (I apologized profusely for about 5 minutes, and after checking to verify there was no blood, he was a very understanding Spud about the whole thing). As someone who had only seen DEVO live once before at the Freedom Of Choice show, the rest of the second set was perfection: Mongoloid, followed by Jocko Homo, Smart Patrol / Mr. DNA (my personal all-time favorite), capped off with Gates of Steel.

The encore was a crowd-pleasing rendition of Freedom Of Choice, followed by the show-closer Beautiful World, started by Jerry and closed by Booji Boy with his Michael Jackson homage story. Booji placated the hungry audience with his bag-o-bouncy balls, and I caught one for Emily (another Spud kindly dropped another one in her waiting Energy Dome just after the band left the stage).

Despite some hiccups, I felt the Freedom Of Choice show in D.C. was an outstanding performance, and I was particularly impressed by Josh Freese’s performance (probably because I was right in front of his kit that whole show). But tonight’s show blew even that performance away — the Boys from Akron were spot-on all night, and they seemed really on top of their game. Jeff Friedl filled in deftly for the absent Josh. The mix sounded great, even from our spot dead-front stage right. The lights were great, and the video meshed perfectly with the on-stage performance. It was a tight show from beginning to end that owed itself more to the synergy of the band and their having a great time than being overly rehearsed. These guys weren’t just going through the motions, they were savoring every moment. The set list seemed cherry-picked to be quintessential DEVO — I’d be hard pressed to put together a more perfect list of songs that more accurately define the band than what I heard tonight.

Post-Show

After the show, the venue staff corralled the crowd away from the stage toward the exits. I asked one staffer about my After Show passes, and he directed me to one corner of the venue, where another more aggressive staffer promptly told me my pass meant exactly Jack Squat, and I’d have to wait outside by the tour buses. Emily & I went outside and stood by the buses, and after some more shuffling around and miscommunication by the venue staff (most of whom were very courteous, kind, and helpful), about 30 minutes later we were whisked back inside the venue to an upstairs room where the band was seated at a receiving table to meet the VIP ticket holders. Emily & I straggled at the back of the group, and first at the table was Jerry. He asked Emily if she wanted him to sign her Dome, and she shyly shook her head “no thank you.” I was temporarily mortified, but I gathered my composure, shook his hand and politely asked him to sign my Mask. I explained to Jerry that Emily was a huge fan, and she’s just a little overwhelmed by everything. Next up was Jeff, and Emily reacted the same way, politely declining an autograph. Repeat again for Bob 1, then Michael Pilmer asked Emily to get up on the table so he could take a shot of her with Mark, who was seated next. As she situated herself on the table, Mark signed her Dome. At that point it became clear Emily had a plan all along — she wanted to get Mark to sign her Dome first, and she wanted to present him with the drawing (I think she feels a bit of a bond with Mark, since she also wears glasses). She pulled out her drawing and presented it to Mark, who very graciously complimented her on it and showed it to the other guys. Everyone seemed genuinely appreciative of her efforts, and promised to take good care of her gift. Michael got a shot of Emily presenting the drawing to Mark, with Bob 1 on her right rear flank. I grabbed a shot, as well, and then continued through the reception line to Mark and Bob 2. Bob 1 leaned over to Emily and jokingly asked how she thought his head got on my shirt (the FoC tour shirt from last Fall). Emily then sought the rest of the band’s signatures and saw Bob 2, then doubled back to Jerry and Jeff, but Bob 1 had stepped away from the table. We started to leave, but she was really keen to get Bob 1’s autograph, so we came back and waited in the general reception area to see if he would return. Ultimately, we decided to go. But between her custom shirt and drawing gift, Emily seemed to be a minor hit with the band, and she felt like her gift was genuinely appreciated, which made her night, if not her whole summer.

A Missed Opportunity

I had previously met and spoken with Mark after the D.C. show (story here), and I had promised myself that if I had the chance to meet the band after this show, I’d express my sincere gratitude for both the show and for being an inspiration to me, especially during the past year or so as I’ve struggled with some difficult career choices. It may sound a bit goofy, but their entire catalog has been the soundtrack to my life during that time, and songs like Whip It, Be Stiff, Through Being Cool, Freedom of Choice, and Spin The Wheel have inspired perseverance and patience as I venture into the Great Unknown of entrepreneurship after being chewed up and spit out by a corporation that was the last I’d have thought would behave like a typical corporation. DEVO’s music and message have provided comfort and guidance to me during this whole ordeal. And things like Mark’s Second Act interview (and, well, his whole soundtrack career in general) and the simple fact that the band is back with a new album after a 20-year hiatus have been great inspirations to me, as well.

I wanted to tell them all of those things, but all I could muster at the time was a genuine “thanks for an amazing show” and “could I please trouble you to sign my Mask? Thank you!”

So, to DEVO (if you’re reading this), when I said “Thank You,” I meant it in every personal way: For an amazing show. For an unforgettable evening with my daughter. For a welcome break from a stressful couple of weeks. For a great show and memorable evening with my son back in November. For music and messages that have both entertained me and that have seen me through trying times. For long ago helping me realize it’s OK not to be one of the “cool kids” and to formulate and cherish opinions of my own. In some very real ways, you helped me become (and be comfortable with) who I am.

Thank you for being DEVO and for holding a mirror to the world in the hopes that it will some day realize the folly of its ways. Some of us are listening.

(Hopefully more than we know.)

-

I am a human rocket

On a mission of deployment

I’ve been cocked and loaded

Ready for the culmination

I am a human missile

Guided by a secret agenda

That commands my every thought and deed

And wills me on my way.

-

I am a human rocket

On a mission of redemption

I’ve been cocked and loaded

Primed by everything I know

I am a human missile

Guided by a secret voice

That commands my every action

And wills me on my way

There is no turning back,

There are no second thoughts

First things first and all things fair

Be it love or war, they say.

There is no plan named B

On the land in the air or on the sea

This is what’s supposed to be

My duty now awaits me

-

I am a human rocket

On a mission of instruction

I’ve been primed and programmed

Since the beginning of time

I am a human missile

Guided by a secret master

That commands my every motion

And wills me on my way.

I’ve found my target

I’ve reached my co-ordinates

I’m set to detonate, and resonate

The final poem I will create.

I’ve made a video

It tells a story, oh…

I guess it’s time to go

Don’t forget to rewind.

-

<break>

-

I am a human rocket

On a mission of destruction

I’ve been locked and loaded

And ready for the confirmation

I am a human missile

Guided by a secret perfection

That commands my full conviction

And wills me on my way.

-

Large parts of the experience

Will go by unnoticed. We are all

distracted by the lights and sounds

Of everything and nothing

Do you remember the breath

you took? When they let you off the hook

And sent you swimming away

Back into your cell?

-

I am a human rocket

On a mission of reduction

I’ve been cocked and loaded

Since the dawn of time

I am a human missile

Guided by a secret voice

That commands my every thought and deed

And wills me on my righteous way.

—-

Notes:

• This is Track 6 on DEVO’s new album Something for Everybody (iTunes link)
• This is the only track on the album attributed solely to Mark Mothersbaugh.
• Artwork above is a drawing of Dave Stevens’ Rocketeer by mistermoster, macuy19, and SeanE on deviantart.com. (Found via a Google image search of “Human Rocket”.)
• I felt this song contained perhaps the strongest lyrics on the album.
• This happens to be my 10-year-old daughter’s favorite new DEVO song.

Me: “Thanks for the shake, sweetie. What did you put in it?”

Emily (my daughter): “It was vanilla ice cream and cookie dough. I call it a Van-ookie Shake!”

Me: “Van-ookie, eh? That’s funny.”

Angela (my wife): ”You can’t call it a ‘Nookie Shake.’ You should think of another name.”

Like many people, I’ve looked back on events in my life at various times and thought, “what if…?” 

What if…

• …I had finished college?
• …I had followed through on those initial contacts I made with Disney Feature Animation or MTV Animation?
• …I had moved out of the area while I was younger, to somewhere like - say - Atlanta or San Francisco?
• …I’d had more confidence in my talents and abilities when I was younger?
• …I had better handled that very first credit card transaction I ever made (the one where I was ripped off for $400 and defiantly refused to pay until the matter was cleared up)?
• …I had felt I deserved better and pushed toxic personalities away from me sooner?
• …I had fought harder for that job I really loved?

Would I still feel that my life is a mess? Would I still feel like I had neglected myself (and my friends, and my family) in some very basic ways? Would I be any happier with the way my life had turned out?

I’m on the cusp of 40, and as I take inventory of my life, I count:

• a wife who deserves better than what I can give her,
• beautiful children who need more than I provide for them,
• a wonderful & extended family that I don’t make enough time to appreciate,
• long neglected friendships,
• a bloated body, broken by abuse and neglect,
• talents that haven’t been exercised for years,
• a mind that can’t stay focused,
• a temper that I can’t keep in check.
• a spotty career that fell apart too soon,
• a fledgling business,
• a list of failed projects that started off as grand ideas but died with whimpers.

The thing is, there aren’t that many huge “a-HA!” moments that I can remember. But there are countless times where I just let life happen and took the easy path, when the more challenging (and rewarding) one was there right in front of me. Stay in an abusive relationship, or leave? Stay in school, or quit? Follow through with that portfolio submission, or just forget it and avoid rejection? Defend my job, or just throw my hands up and stop fighting it? Take time to develop and teach my kids properly, or just yell at them when they don’t behave as I feel they should? Learn to eat right and exercise, or stay fat and sedentary?

I haven’t been living my life for the past two decades — I’ve let life happen to me. I’ve just been drifting along to wherever the seas of circumstance have taken me, without any resistance or intention. I could’ve been a great cartoonist by now. I could’ve been a great father and husband. I could’ve been a successful…well, ANYTHING. But I didn’t act when life presented me with opportunity.

I know that 40 is still relatively young, so I have a chance to change things for the better, and I hope I will. But if my life can serve as a lesson to anyone, I would like to impart these words of caution:

Don’t just let your life happen — live it. Make your choices, and choose the difficult and enriching path, because the reward will be so very worth the effort. You deserve more for yourself than a life of empty choices.

Aside from spending the first half day or so exploring my new body, probably not much. I’m tolerable (at best) in appearance as a male — I’m sure I’d make a thoroughly unattractive female.

(NOTE: Many people say that my sister Kelly and I look alike. Not true - she makes a cute girl. I’d make a scary one.)

Ask me anything

Ask me about barbecuing cats for fun and profit! (not really…but I *did* see that on a bumper sticker once…) http://formspring.me/captkevman