after all, life is a stage

Kind readers,

I think I’m going to try to update this blog more often, which I hope won’t be too annoying.

So… Here’s the latest.

New desk chair, because ergonomics. I’m sad because I loved my groovy, colorful swivel chair, but what are you gonna do. The new chair is more work-friendly. Fortunately, my cherished kitty Potion adopted it immediately, as well as the rug I bought to keep said chair from rolling away from my desk.


I’ve been messing around with Garage Band, recording test songs for Rubber Clown Car.



For most of my life, I’ve had a love/hate relationship with singing. Perhaps it’s because I feel more comfortable in a quiet room, with a desk and keyboard and pen and paper, than with performing and stages and microphones. Then, there were the messages: “You have a gift and it’s selfish if you don’t use it,” and “Don’t get proud though.” All the while, I’d wonder, Do I suck? (much the same way I do with my writing, but I digress), because it was so easy for me to feel like I wasn’t good enough for anything. When I was young, bullies would become friendly after they heard me sing. In my twenties, I was in a band; in my thirties, I sang in a Byzantine choir. Each time, I’d retreat from singing because I felt such ambivalence about it.

But lately, I’ve thought it’d be fun to croon again, or whatever… And then the Rubber Clown Car collaboration came up. I can sing in a quiet room, record; that’s not so bad. It’s kind of fun, in fact. And hey, if I ever performed again, I would now know to do this wondrous magical thing: have a couple of shots of liquor beforehand.

I’ve also decided to ignore all the buzzing voices inside my head, critical, admonishing voices for the most part; I’m telling them to fuck off, and I’m going to have a good time. I’ll just sing for the heck of it, I’m telling myself, Sure you can do it, and even if it sucks, if it’s maybe acceptable at most, it’s not such a big deal, besides, you look pretty good in a golden tuxedo jacket and that’s half the battle, ain’t it?

And when people do enjoy it, it’s rather nice. Why shortchange myself? It’s not a crime to be proud of what you do, or to have a pleasant time screwing around, and if some people hate my crooning, well, I can’t make everybody happy. I don’t need permission to do this.

I can make myself happy, and maybe a few others too. Not bad!

I’m finding that to sing and write, it’s a good combo. A good balance.

Dirk, the lead singer of Rubber Clown Car, said this: “We’re gonna have to do a record of just you with us backing you!” If that does ever happen, I wouldn’t have a problem with it 🙂

I’ve faced my fears before, I’ve stretched my wings many times. So let’s keep going at it. Who the fuck do I think I am? I’m someone who’s doing my thing, and my thing might even be all right.

Your devoted
Logospilgrim, the quiet professor

4 thoughts on “after all, life is a stage

  1. This reminds me of a quote I heard yesterday, but I can’t find who said it. It went something like:
    “You don’t have to try to be anything, even yourself. You are always, inescapably yourself.”


    • I like that! And it’s very true 🙂

      I do what I do because… I don’t know, it seems to happen! It comes naturally… I decide to do it, and it happens, especially when I don’t worry about it too much.

      Liked by 1 person

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