4th Down and 20

Here's yet another stellar piece on the end of our era.

I couldn't echo its sentiment any stronger. I found out that my permanent job was going away right before Labor Day Weekend 2007. That's now fast approaching 4 years. Since then I've scrambled and scraped, applied and submitted and generally wore a path in the rug trying to return to the former glory that was once my job and sense of self worth.

All of that effort has proven fruitless and I now am utterly convinced that not only will I never attain the status and esteem which I once held, and frankly, sadly, treasured; but that I also now realize that I never should've tried to get back to there in the first place.

The deck is stacked, the game is rigged and the house will always win. No more Jello for me, mom.

Listen, I've said it before and I'll say it now. If you're fortunate enough to have dodged this now increasingly historic bullet, I salute and congratulate you on that success. I'm not being maudlin or scolding. It's just the facts of the matter.

However, until you've walked in my shoes and felt my pain, shame and embarrassment, you'll never know the view from this side of the fence. Not to cheapen the experience, but emotionally, I can liken my perspective to that of being a cancer survivor. My carefully chosen daily mood transcends my reality and thankfully, my inner doctor says that I'm currently in remission.

Whew.

I keep finding bizarre, little tiny jobs and ways to make a buck. I'll never earn anything close to what I used to but I don't care about that any longer. It's Okay.

Regardless, it's a goll-damned waste of a perfectly good white boy.

And so, I move on.

I've always said that the Arts are the only thing that matters anyway. History, Wars, Religion, Money...they've all had their hand as world shakers and failed. The painters, poets, actors, authors and singers will always live on.

And so it goes.