Posts Tagged ‘leaving las vegas’
The double-barrel decisions to punt on the bill capped an extraordinary week of public pressure — and an extraordinary reversal of fortunes for Hollywood, whose lobbyists seemed to think they were on cruise control to passage of bills aimed at protecting their content from online thieves.
Don’t you just love happy endings? Actually, in my case, I’m more of the Leaving Las Vegas ending type of guy, but still, to imagine the big money Hollywood lobbyists smug with the certainty that they had bought and paid for the votes of enough senators and congresspeople to ensure the passage of Chinese government censorship for America, only to see the tech heavyweights use their platforms on the Internet to rally public opinion to the tune of millions and millions of Americans signing petitions and calling their representatives . . . it’s a beautiful thing.
Power to the people – when organized and sufficiently motivated, even the biggest money of the big lobbiests can be defeated. Now if we could only get the same kind of public outcry to let the Obama administration know that “we can’t wait” on jobs and Keystone XL . . .
* technically, these bills have not been killed but punted, most likely until after the election. SOPA and PIPA are both heavily damaged in public perception though, so most likely it’s back to the drawing board instead of Congress trying to rework them. Let’s just hope they can find a way to address the concerns of the intellectual property rights holders without trampling the freedom of the Internet.
Today, I started wading through the 2,300-something emails (98% spam) that I had allowed to pile up since my original post about my suicidal plans and found enough emails and Facebook replies that I figured it was probably best to explain what the hell I was thinking in making such a post in the first place. I wasn’t trying to leave anyone in suspense or wondering if it was a gag for the last two weeks, I’ve just had almost no desire to do the emails and the Facebook or even boot up the computer, but allow me to explain . . .
Surely, I must be crazy for even posting this kind of shit on the Internet in the first place, but I am an open book. That’s the way I’ve always been. With only 183 unique visitors to that original post, it’s not even like I’ve exposed myself to the world so much as a few friends and readers, but I’m really not ashamed at all to tell anyone my story. I have battled with depression and suicidal thoughts since I was a teenager. In later years, it exposed itself as a penchant to drink myself to death in a slow suicide, but it’s been something I’ve struggled with even before alcohol was a part of the picture.
I don’t post any of this to try to cause distress to anyone who may care, and the last thing in the world I’m trying to do is go fishing for sympathy (ah dude, don’t do that, we love you, you’re such a great guy . . . ) neither one of those reasons would drive me to post any of this. I just have this compulsion for honesty, and whether I’m making these posts for myself and myself alone or whether anyone might ever find any of this interesting enough to read, I’m going to write whatever I may be dealing exactly as I really am dealing with it, no matter how unflattering or bewildering it may seem to some.
But I know I’m not alone in this war that rages inside of my head. When I was in the mental hospital there was a nineteen-year-old girl there named Kristina who devised a plan for a painless self-execution by contacting a chemical supply company, obtaining potassium cyanide and hydrogen cyanide from them, and then while everyone else was gone from the home, she got into her car in the garage, rolled up her windows and mixed the two chemicals in a bucket, basically turning her own car into the equivalent of a death row gas chamber. Thankfully, the mixture went wrong and with her eyes and lungs on fire, she bailed out and lived to tell the tale. Now that’s hardcore. So yeah, I know I’m not alone in this desire I have to obliterate myself, a voice that’s always there, sometimes nagging, other times seductive, but never completely silenced.
So I’m trying to pull myself out of this. The story could end up that I was never really able to pull myself out, in which case, maybe it ends up a cautionary tale for some reader somewhere. Or perhaps if it all ends for the best, who knows, it just may provide inspiration for someone going through the same things I have gone through.
I was done with this world and on a mission to end it all so I got to a point where I was ready to take care of all my earthly obligations.
A jazz big band, a jazz combo and a hard rock cover band, three bands I loved and cherished and was Mr. Dependable for for over a year and a half, making it on time to 56 out of 56 gigs (yes, I counted) and yet as much as I loved those bands, I had reached a point where I was done and I had to quit all three of my beloved bands. I was willing to play a final show or two if a replacement could not be found, but was fortunate to find that a new bass player was ready for both the upcoming gigs and it looked like I would not have to leave any of the bands in the lurch.
My clients, the clients I’ve loved and worked with over years and years, I had to hand them over to other developers and say my goodbyes, a couple of them tearful. The company that was so gracious to send me new clients, I tried to finish up the current projects the best I could and then tell them, thanks for the opportunities, sorry but I am out of the game.
So there it was, all my obligations handed away, all my responsibilities done and all the loose ends tied. I had it all set up.
Where I screwed up was in being caught in an inebriated state of honesty when the neighbors came over for a dinner party the following Tuesday night and they asked, “Why are you doing this?” “Why have you quit all the bands and handed off all your clients?”
In a moment of drunken honesty I blurted out, “Because I’m going to go out to Las Vegas and kill myself.”
I’ve been dreaming of ending this life since I was 13, but it was only when I was 32 and saw Leaving Las Vegas that the seed was planted. I saw that movie and never has a movie resonated so much with me. It planted a seed and the seed has grown roots over the last ten years.
My drunken honesty that Tuesday night got me a ride in the Sheriff’s car straight to the emergency room of the local hospital. And so there was a bump in the road, but I believe everyone has the right to choose the time and place of their own dying if they so desire, and this is just a bump in the road on my way to Making Las Vegas.