HumidCity

the last week has been a blur of emotions but obviously an effective one at that. phone calls unsolicited from friends and strangers, emails unrequited with tea and sympathy, fan mail doused in fight and encouragement (unparallel structure anyone?). as the grammar subsides, I hear battle cries that the show must, might, may go on… (first weekend of jazz fest… in the kid’s tent , HA!) it’s as if the justice league has been reconvened, the avengers have have been reunited, and the stooges have been reconstituted (screw iggy, I just hope shemp is there). but what about the mcnola tie-in? what about the action figure? where’s the merchandising? what’s the backend on my emotional investment?

at times tears, at times laughter, but mostly frustrated anger mixed with a twist of betrayal (an odd cocktail for even odder times). drink up, just don’t spill it. libation good! spillage bad! a day in the ER. a night at the shrink. marx brothers, anyone? job offers in L.A. lunch offers in NJ. but such random offers just add to the mania. Such offers make me question myself more. should I stay, go, quote clash lyrics? not again!

the chest pains, the shortness of breath, another day spent in triage. the so-called lights in the tunnel are scarier than the dark. it’s the old devil you know theory. the scariest part is/ was the diagnosis. the bronchitis part I can handle (there’s a black mold in the air), but the PTSD? It’s hard to have and even harder to accept a post-traumatic syndrome when you’re still in the midst of the trauma. somebody consult a latin teacher . oh, that’s me. touche’ amice. Et tu prozac and call me in the morning. In the meantime, BLOG THIS!

i started out Post K year two with grand ideas… shows to REBUILD NEW ORLEANS: ONE LAUGH, ONE SONG, ONE SHOW AT A TIME… little did i know how trite the rebuild would seem to so many, a catch phrase for catch alls… i put the band back together, I released a mock opera, I hired singers, dancers, and musicians… i enlisted artists from around the world to help (40+ actively involved, including Peter Bagge, Tony Millionaire, and Mark Newgarden– artists from US, UK, Austria, Czech Republic, Australia, France,and New Zealand). a grand plan or a manic delusion?

and so the shows (and the idea of the shows) have been quality.. but the audiences have not been quantity,,, each show brings me deeper in debt… the poster project has turned out well artistically.. but now my gutted house is a warehouse for unsold “art” and i still have my sorry ass in a FEMA trailer… perhaps i should have forgotten the altruistic REBUILD NEW ORLEANS efforts and REBUILT MY LIFE instead… the past few weeks have been flanked by manic black out binges and depressed self inflicted thoughts… i keep myself awake with screams that are racing faster in slow motion… suddenly primal therapy makes sense again…

only a handful of shows to fill out the year…

plus the BLOG gets released in book form

canada is postponed for now… it may occur this summer along with europe (depending on FEMA, insurance, and doctor’s orders)

have to make the big picture smaller for a while otherwise i might wakeup dead– another casualty to post K or the big easy or just my disease BLOG THIS!