PuzzleMaster

I use to doubt
the sincerity of the oft repeated platitude
"the children are our future"
but watching my not yet four niece
plow through five puzzles sequentially
with systematic alacrity
I am not only convinced
but filled
with gentle waxing hope.

The winds of change have begun to blow

The winds of change have begun to blow
not gust or gale
but cooling breeze
a soothing balm
on a sweltering afternoon
not a clean cleansing down pour
but the promise of relief to come
for storms do not break from still stagnant skies
but must build and roll and break
before the lightening strikes
cleaving the air
and purging the land of heat and grime
not yet
the machine of history runs slow
and the race for Liberty marathon not sprint
but the winds of change have begun to blow
and the strength of the old guard withers
we need not repeat the sins of our forebears
activism followed by contented consumerism
the soul of America is at stake
and we will be the ones to decide
if She lives or if She dies
twisted by fear into the grave
or resurrected by compassion
the winds of change have begun to blow.
It is our time now.

The Numbers For 2017

Year #5 without a drink. Thanks to all the friends, family, and strangers who helped along the way.

I went on 4 vacations(Harrisburg, NYC, Denver, New Orleans).

I did 48 shows with Deep Schwa.

I did 45 shows with Sight Unseen.

The Night Shift did 1 show.

I co-wrote and performed 1 sketch show 5 times.

I conceived and shot 20 interviews for a documentary tentatively titled Chiaroscuro.

I wrote 62 poems, 1 essay, and did 6 readings.

I watched 78 movies in the theater.

I read 68 books my favorite of which was The Antagonist by Lynn Coady.

I went to 1 concert(Willie Nelson).

I saw 1 of my heroes in the flesh(Chris Rock).

I went to 2 plays(Linda Vista, Doll's House Part 2).

I went to 2 weddings.

I went to 0 funerals.

I went to 2 Michelin starred restaurants.

I moved once.

I babysat my niece for the first time.

I learned and cooked 6 crock pot recipes.

I rode my motorcycle for 7 months. I changed the battery once.

Nicole and I celebrated our 4th Anniversary.

I'm grateful for it all.

Why Do I Exist?

I was talking to someone yesterday who was down, who said they were plagued with this question. At first it struck me as sad, I don't like seeing anyone I know depressed, but as the conversation progressed I became rather baffled and somewhat put off. Not by this person's feeling but by their inability or desire to take no action because of it.

Question: Why do I exist?

All pseudo-intellectual drug-experimenting undergraduates grapple with this question and perhaps in this uncertain and trying socio-political landscape despair and ennui and futility are seductive. But existential malaise has no real value, only has meaning as a momentary stop on the way to an actual destination or discovery. But its boring. Railing against aging, birth itself, existence, is petulant, immature. Sure, sometimes this feeling is natural, sometimes the pressures of life can be overwhelming, but this should be fleeting. It's not that surrendering to this idea, this void, this perspective, is weak it simply serves no purpose.

Answer: You do.

That's it. You do, so what now. Faith and spirituality can provide answers, purpose, and meaning but belief isn't for everyone, barring that it is up to us. Up to us to individually give our lives, life, meaning. And the thing is, perhaps existence is absurd but even so it retains meaning, retains whatever meaning we inject into and derive from it. Whether its a particular passion, family, friends, a profession, physical fitness, mental alacrity you name it. It can be anything and the glorious thing is we can dictate what it is.

Why do I exist? Pick a reason. Pick a purpose. If life is lived with meaning, it has meaning. And that can be something as lofty as spiritual enlightenment or as banal as good coffee. And it can be a myriad of those things, big and small.

The question is, in essence, immaterial. It's a non-starter. To quote Robin Williams paraphrasing Whitman:

O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish;
What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                       Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Theft

Monday Nicole and I's apartment was burglarized. I came home from work and found the kitchen window wide open. I went through the house and noticed that our TV, computers, and Nicole's jewelry drawer were gone. Nothing was damaged or knocked over, there was no mess, it looked like they were in and out in less than five minutes. Our neighbor was also hit.

I couldn't find our cat so my initial reaction was one of concern for her, once I found her(hiding under the bed) and made sure she was alright I had some time to soak in what had happened. I felt inconvenienced and sad about the loss of the photos on my computer but I wasn't angry, I wasn't despairing. I called Nicole and when she got home we called the cops. The officer who came was patient and calm but cautioned us these type of things don't typically have a speedy resolution.

The other big loss was two pearl necklaces Nicole had from her grandmother who has passed. The necklaces along with the photos were the two things that hurt the most because of their sentimental value but the other things- the TV, the computers- didn't bother us that much. They were just things.

A lot of friends have reached out over the past couple days offering support which has been incredibly kind and for which we're both really grateful. It's been odd though because the reaction seems disproportionate to what happened. Perhaps I've diminished it and am not really facing it but I don't really think so. Ultimately what they took were just objects, stuff, that, sure, would cost money to replace but it brought into sharp relief all the really incredible things I, we, have in our lives. I'd like to think Nicole and I are already relatively connected on a day-to-day basis but the burglary solidified and strengthened our partnership, we are handling this situations as a team and there's nothing like adversity to temper a relationship. With all the friends and family reaching out, some people who we haven't heard from in a while, it makes me realize how rich our lives are with those people that care about us. We have decent jobs that pay us well with understanding bosses. Food in the fridge. Our first real Christmas tree. Ms. Kitty(our cat). And simple health. Being alive. Nothing like a crime to make you realize how much you take for granted.

With the energizing care of friends what's a TV? With the unshakable support of family what's a laptop? With your loving partner by your side what can't you face?

Perseverance

The irony is that fatalism is futile. There is no benefit to doom. Certainly a moment of despair or a time of mourning is something we are all entitled to. But remaining in a place of fear, wallowing in ennui does not serve us personally nor does it effect the society in which we remain. We move on by moving forward, we survive by taking action.

Yes, this election has been brutal. Yes, this outcome is heartbreaking and terrifying. But out of this pain, out of this loss there are opportunities. This pain provides an opportunity to come together as compassionate humans. Provides a real and compelling chance to unite. Not only is it a time to reach out to our friends and family for fellowship but it is a time to connect more broadly, rigorously exercise our empathy and understanding, because only by recognizing each other as thinking feeling valued humans can we hope to weather the coming trials. It also allows us an enemy that is distinct. Apathy has slowed progress for years, with hate and aggression writ large and loud on a national scale there are no excuses left, we must and will take action.

On taking action. To men I suggest this is a time to listen and follow more than speak and lead, whatever the conversation, whatever the battle it is not for us to define. What we can all do, the tools of progress and change remain what they have always been- organize, march, vote, donate. Social organizations will need financial support in the coming months and years more than ever. And aside from the philanthropic we vote with our dollars, research the companies you are giving your money to and be discerning about where and what you purchase.

And life goes on. Life endures. The sun will rise and set tomorrow. There'll still be Thanksgiving and 2017 will still come. We still have to commute and go to work and decide what to do on Sunday afternoon. There are still pleasures, large and small, still love and companionship and joy. The future may look bleak but its reality is something we can determine. We have the choice on how to proceed and I suggest moving forward with hope and kindness. For even the smallest act of generosity can make a ripple that becomes a wave. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one moment at a time we can make the choice not to succumb to darkness but to live in the light.

Fear is the mind-killer. Struggle not submission.

On Grief

We all grieve in our own way. Whether we commiserate or sit silently, whether we weep or anger, whether we recount memories or distract with humor. We all have our own process we must deal with in order to come to terms with loss. What we cannot do is bottle it up and ignore it. We must engage with our grief, we must feel, we must face it, the pain is ours to be experienced and grappled with and incorporated into ourselves as we move on. It is not some foreign thing to be scorned, as difficult as that can be.

Last week a friend passed away. He was 25. It is a tragedy and it is painful. He was funny and joyful, always grinning with an easy loud near-constant laugh. The fact that he is gone is a shock and as the days go by it still seems unreal, more like a dream or ill conceived prank rather than reality. Like any moment there'll be news there's been some mistake. It will take time.

As I mourn I try to crystallize my memories of James. Our conversations, the time we sat together during shows, the times I saw him perform, our hugs. And more importantly than that I keep in my heart and mind his unbridled joy not only of comedy but of life, his open and relentlessly positive disposition. I will carry that with me forever, as a remembrance and as a guide.

When it comes to death, that frightening and inevitable counterpoint to life, compassion should be our watchword and gratitude our touchstone. The burden of life can be heavy but in sharing it becomes lighter. We all struggle. In reaching out and connecting, in seeking understanding and empathy that struggle is weathered. Each day is precious, each friendship, relationship, family member, success, pleasure, triumph are to be relished and remembered. There is tragedy and cruelty and sometimes it strikes close to home. But there is also love, joy, and companionship. Seek it out and savor it.

The world is capricious. Sometimes life can be fleeting. This is how we go on. One step at a time. One day at a time. Fortifying ourselves with the warmth of friends and family we trudge the road of happy destiny. For today, today we are here.

The Necessity of Hope

Wrote this for Quenchers tonight.

Regardless of who you support this political season, regardless of your desired outcome, it is inarguable that it is toxic. Defined not by policy or ideals but baseness, negativity, and disdain. It calls to mind the 2008 election by comparison, which although certainly contentious, carried with it the promise of hope, the pledge of change. The idea that we could be better.

We live in a postmodern era. Culture and the arts predominantly defined by irony and detachment. Morality sacrificed for self reference. Heroism traded in for ambiguity. This movement is especially prevalent in this our Chicago comedy community. Not to say that it doesn’t have its place or isn’t entertaining. But absurdism, irony, breaking the fourth wall, anti-comedy, these things certainly have value but they, almost by definition, lack heart. They offer a safe reserve for the artist, a shield, from which to comment behind without risk. If everything is stupid, if you don’t put any real belief or idealism into your work, if you don’t put anything on the line, you can’t be judged. Can’t be ridiculed. Sincerity and faith, hope and optimism are dangerous because they can so easily be undermined. But in our world which is increasingly chaotic and cruel we are in need of these things more than ever. In need of inspiration to lift our spirits, hope of a brighter future to look toward. Faith that, perhaps, there is goodness in the world.

Here’s the thing despair is easy. Watch the news for ten minutes or spend $10 at the liquor store for rot gut and you can know futility. I’ve been to the darkness, I know what it is, there was a time I thought it wasn't worth it, conceded that the world at large was broken and my life as I knew it lost. Apathy is cheap. Misery cheaper still. If you’ll excuse the oft used metaphor. Falling down was easy. Getting back up took actual effort. There came a point where I made a decision. Enough. I clung to the small sliver of faith that I had that things would work out. I gathered all the shreds of hope I could muster that maybe I could have a better life. And over time I did. And it was not irony that helped me but hugs, companionship, and the liquid gold of sunrise on the lake.

Recently a friend was robbed at gunpoint. Irony, detachment, and moral grayness did not help them navigate the encounter or help them after. It was bravery that allowed them to endure and the love and support of friends that helped them get back on their feet. Another friend is seeking treatment for addiction and mental illness, absurdism does not help bolster their courage. The kindness and understanding of the ones they love does. Another relationship problems, another stress, another professional displacement, and another and another and another. We all have problems and face challenges on a daily basis. But we also have kisses, soft hands lovingly held, ice cream, unexpected gifts, and snorting laughter. The doctrine of our postmodern society does not fuel our perseverance, does not provide examples of grace, does not instill in us hope or offer the promise of joy, only persuades us from participation, only offers the safety of indifference. In the moment, perhaps, this is enough- escape. But in reality, in life, this is a recipe for dissatisfaction. Without emotional risk there is no reward.

When you hear words like hope, faith, love, truth, sincerity you may think them cliche or sickly sweet. It may call to mind Lifetime movies or family friendly entertainment. You may shy away from them as precarious or uncool. And I understand. But these ideas are not only what make life worth living but allow us to keep living it. In our world where terrorism, murder, and bigotry are on display every day it is the artist’s job not only to entertain but to move, not only to amuse but to inspire, not only to divert but to enliven. To remind us that while there is heartbreak there is also the glory of new life, of fears overcome, of first kisses, of ferris wheels, of warm embraces, of bedtime stories, of good conversation shared over hot coffee, of triumph.

Recently I was in the Target checkout line and the person behind the counter asked me my profession I replied “Insurance” they then told me they had recently had a fender bender and had some coverage questions. We talked for a couple minutes and I think I somewhat assuaged their claim related fears. We connected. And perhaps this interaction is mundane when compared to the striking majesty of nature or the symphony of true love but none the less there was a beauty to it. Two strangers for a moment sharing space and time.

I am uninterested in the absurd for its own sake, I am unaffected by witty remove, I am bored by non-sequiturs and quasi-surrealist presentation. I am unimpressed by deliberate and winking lack of commitment. I want to know what you think and need and believe. I want to know who you are. I want to know what thrills you what angers you what brings you joy. I want to know your pain because I will recognize it and together we can heal.

If you are called to irony stylistically I suppose I cannot fault you. But if you use it because its easy, to avoid judgement, as security, you are acting out of fear.

I believe things will work out. I believe, although flawed, most people are good. I believe that, given time, empathy is possible with almost anyone. I believe everyone deserves kindness and an attempt at understanding. I believe if we all made a concerted effort to treat each other with respect the world would improve faster than we could imagine. I believe my art should promote these beliefs.

We live in trying times. Tragedies and threats a daily occurrence. Now more than ever we must have hope. Cultivate it in ourselves and inspire it in others. Remember the joy of the apple orchard and pumpkin patch, the delight of friendship, the exhilaration of romance. We are the ones that shape tomorrow.

Do The Right Thing

Sometimes the right thing to do is easy and obvious. Hold the door for an old person with a cane, give up your seat on the train for someone with a kid, show up to work on time, take out the trash, what have you. Other times it can be more elusive, more complicated. Taking responsibility for your action while still advocating for yourself, making compromises or not making compromises, standing up for yourself, letting something slide, taking into consideration the wants/needs/desires of friends/family/employers, not sacrificing your wants/needs/desires in the service of people-pleasing. It can be murky.

But even on the small scale it can be difficult. We may be exhausted, irritable, myopic, unwilling or unable to give of ourselves for even the most basic kindness on any given day. And that's OK. Some days are good and some days are bad. What we can do is do our best on any given day and realize that that won't always look the same.

Some days the right thing will be a missed opportunity, something we just overlooked. Some days it will pass us by because, in that moment, we were incapable of taking action. Some days will be all success and triumph. We will lay our heads on our pillows at night with a sigh of satisfaction and a sense of unbridled fulfillment. Some days we won't even notice that we are doing the right thing, we simply will be. Some days we will endeavor greatly to do the right thing, to be honest and true and things will get all mixed up and we'll be left feeling like emotional hamburger, all twisted up and pounded out and spent. Some days will be a struggle and in trying to do the right thing we may end up doing the wrong thing. Some days we'll be confronted with deceit or pain and the path may be unclear. Some days require action, others stillness. Some days require talk, others listening. Some days require confrontation, others quiet acceptance.

Morality can seem, at times, so abstract it is not applicable. But some simple practices may provide definition for the theoretical. Pause. When confronted with a person or situation pause before reacting. Investigate your feelings and think through your response. Talk. Consult with friends and loved ones when you're in need of direction. By taking in the input, suggestions, and perspective of others we gain clarity. Pray. Or meditate. Cultivating an internal calm will pay dividends in the external.

In this our modern age of irony the idea of being a good person seems quaint, uncool. But given the current climate of socio-political upheaval, of dissent and protest and injustice, now more than ever we should aspire to do the right thing. To breathe meaning into cliched words like hope, courage, and tolerance. To forsake internet rhetoric for real world empathy. To try, to attempt, to do the right thing. To be ruled more by principle than knee-jerk reaction. To seek understanding rather than being understood. To seek to love rather than be loved. And to always do the right thing.

Endurance

Some days survival is a win.
When tasks
become challenges
become insurmountable barriers.
And every human is a leering
needy
petulant
bully.
When bones are replaced with thinly coiled steel wool
electrified by low voltage-
pulsing,
thrumming,
buzzing- never crossing the line
into outright pain
stress hovering incessantly around unpleasant.
When the mind is plagued by the what ifs
and the security of control becomes alluring
and although you constantly grasp for it,
wrestle with it,
it alludes you
leaving you more confounded than when you began.
When the clock is the master,
slicing the day into not enough.
And every breath is tainted with the stink of unmet responsibility.
On those days the goal is simply to get through it.
To stay in the moment, to live every hour, every minute of those bad days.
To get in bed after its all over and say "I tried"
not even "I tried my best" because those days have no room for best.
On those days it is all struggle, all defeat.
On those days
Survival is a victory.

And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

A Fable About Perseverance

There once was a fox who got caught in a trap.
She languished for hours.
Eventually the blood and sweat allowed her to wriggle out.
She began to limp back to her den through the wide forest.
Exhausted and weak she kept on.
One step, then the next.
Time passed.
Crows and hawks began to circle.
The fox found a stream and stopped to rest and drink.
A crow swooped down and perched above the fox.
"Tired and mortally wounded I see. Best to lay down and give up, get it over with." he said.
She ignored him.
"Hawks and eagles are circling. Mighty creatures. And do you hear that? Um-hm, the bears. They smell blood. Only a matter of time."
"Leave me be." she replied and continued on her way.
The crow was joined by other crows, carrion eaters all.
They jeered, belittled, and threatened the injured fox.
She began to despair.
But she kept walking.
Although she pained.
Although she ached.
She had to get back to her den and her cubs.
Time passed.
There came a point that she felt she could not go on.
And in that moment she heard a humming from the earth.
And she felt a vibration in her feet.
And through her body rushed a wave of healing warmth.
As if she drew strength from the Earth herself.
And she continued on.
Eventually she arrived home.
Over time the fox healed
She raised her pups.
They grew up and had adventures their own.

Perhaps

Perhaps there is no magic left.
Perhaps the world is all flat mundanity punctuated by sharp cruelties.
Perhaps tomorrow holds no surprises only banality and heartbreak.
But perhaps not.
Perhaps there is pleasure in the cool night breeze.
Perhaps there is joy in a shared meal and good conversation.
Perhaps art and literature hold the power to enliven us.
Perhaps stories can impart that delicious shivering chill that ignites us.
Perhaps romance stirs up boldness and generosity.
Perhaps the love of friends and family can provide a deep and unwavering sense of belonging.
Perhaps kindness, however small or inconsequential, is every where around us were we to but look.
Perhaps we are not alone. Despite the pain, despite the bore. Perhaps we are part of some universally connected life force called humanity which we can find solace in and courage from because despite the ugliness of the world there is much more beauty and valor and compassion if we can only hold on to it. Perhaps hope is not something to be inspired in us but something that is preexisting that we must nurture and cultivate and share.
Perhaps.

Street Talk 26

Outside smoking. Two brothers exit the corner bodega after getting an afternoon snack. The younger, 3 or 4, is babbling contently. The older, 11 or 12, listens amused with a half smile on his face as he struggles with opening a candy bar. 

Younger Brother: Is that your truck?
Me: (surprised) No. It's a, it's a church van.
Older Brother: (grins) He loves trucks.
Me: (grins back)
Younger Brother: I do too!
Older Brother: (shrugs)

They walk off and the kid continues to talk excitedly and his brother continues to patiently listen. Two kids on a beautiful spring afternoon going home with a sweet treat. 

Yes. The world can be cruel. There are tragedies, injustices, and enraging things happening every day. It can be frustrating and heartbreaking. But there is also love and kindness. There is also joy. As long as you keep yourself open to it.

Tis The Season

Every city has a pulse. And Chicago's, normally a steady thrumming pump, has quickened with the advent of advent. The weather too, the unseasonable chill never dipping into freeze, has kept things lively. Contented citizens and gawking tourists visiting movie houses, admiring store windows, and that inevitable seasonal past time- shopping.

The streets alive with bodies, like blood vessels coursing through concrete gridded veins. Such opened faced wonder and naked joy on display. What startling humanity. What hope. I don't have the heart to urge caution on these exultants.  O' me, O' life. To glimpse what we could be.

Dave Maher Coma Show

Last year Dave was in a diabetic coma for a month, currently at the Annoyance he's performing Dave Maher Coma Show a comedic exploration of that experience and its aftermath. Dave has a singular and compelling voice: funny, insightful, at times righteously indignant, and ultimately inspiring. It's entertaining and affirming to spend an hour with him as he recounts his incredible, miraculous return from the brink.

Dave alternates effortlessly between comedy and drama, taking the audience through the painful and terrifying realities of coming out of a coma while never loosing an inherent therapeutic humor, never falling into despair, always focusing on the bewildering and wonderful fact of his recovery. The show is funny, yes, no question, but more than that it is uplifting, illuminates how precious and precarious life can be. Instills hope that perhaps everything will be OK.

Dave has gotten some great and well-deserved press about the show in the Tribune, The Reader, and Gapersblock. You can follow him a Twitter here. One more show Friday the 18th.

Severance

All worry gone, all stress banished, at least for a while.
The remains of summer stretch out invitingly like a pup offering its belly for a scratch.

Each day full of simple wants fulfilled.
Each night punctuated by an absence of obligation.

A rare and fleeting freedom, unencumbered by demands.
Not since childhood have I felt such optimism.

How precious time can be.
After you've sold it cheaply for so long.

Year Three

Today marks my third year without a drink. I struggled with alcohol for a long time and I had to go through a lot of pain to actually seek help, take some suggestions, and make some significant changes in my life. There were times when I thought I couldn't or wouldn't make it but I am here.

I no longer struggle with drinking, the obsession with alcohol has been lifted. I don't think about it often, I don't get cravings, I don't miss or romanticize it. I am still always wary around or regarding booze. When you have a problem vigilance is required.

My main focus now is to live a full and productive life. When recovering from an addiction the first thing is becoming free from the substance. The second thing is learning how to live a happy and peaceful life, learning how to cope with negative emotions(anger, fear, resentment etc.), learning how to be an adult, simply- learning how to live.

By that measure this has been a good year. I've set goals and met some of them. I've attempted to communicate more in general and specifically more calmly, I've tried to gossip less. I've tried to make time for and spend time with loved ones, tried to work hard but also not hold myself to an impossible standard. Tried to lash out less and listen more. Tried to voice my own needs and respect those of the people around me. I may not have always succeeded but I was successful more often than I failed and I kept trying. In short its felt like progress, like growth.

I'm grateful for each and every day. The triumphs and the failures. The opportunities and the disappointments. It's about progress not perfection.

Peaks And Valleys

Currently I feel a bit depleted, creatively and otherwise. The last couple weeks of my job have been draining(two left), the play has taken a lot of energy, and my schedule has left little time to recharge. As a result I don't feel terribly inspired.

Inspiration and the corresponding creative output seem to move in cycles. Like a stream, sometimes it rushes, sometimes it trickles. Some tributaries circle back to the main flow, some dead end. I've found things tend to move in fits and starts, periods of change and productivity followed by mundane routine, a plateau before the next discovery.

Right now I'm just putting one foot in front of the other. Its not bad just tiring. But the end is in sight and I can already feel a little stirring, the promise of good things to come.

Graffiti 166

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." -Dr. Seuss

"It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness." -Eleanor Roosevelt

"Empathy is about finding echoes of another person in yourself." -Mohsin Hamid

"Loyalty and devotion lead to bravery. Bravery leads to the spirit of self-sacrifice. The spirit of self-sacrifice creates trust in the power of love." -Morihei Ueshiba

A Fortuitous Meeting

And outside the window I saw two friends out for an evening stroll presumably after a pizza dinner at Spacca Napoli. And my heart jumped. Sitting on my couch, alone, in the gathering gloom my slight by budding melancholy vanished. And quickly I got ready and left catching up to my friends on my bike.

After hailing them I think they were somewhat surprised when I dismounted and asked to stroll with them a while. They were agreeable. We casually chatted about our weekends and job searching as the sun set and a warm wind blew in from the lake.

For a time we shared the balmy late spring evening. And even though it was a very small thing my heart smiled and the world seemed full and bright. After a short while we went our separate ways. My friends to their home and me to buy Stephen King's latest- Finders Keepers.