Born for Blackjack

There are no guarantees.

Whatever you do for a living, it's a gamble. Especially if you're a professional gambler.

Even if you grow potatoes for a living (for which the odds of success are significantly better), you still risk blight, drought, flood, tornado, fire, and the Wrath of God.

 

I've heard it called the most honest job in the world.

What the brain says, the gut does not believe. That's one of the reasons we have professional gamblers like Steven Spielberg, Stephen Harper and Stephen King. The odds of success for any of them were really bad, but they rolled anyway and eventually won.

If only he could quit while he's ahead...

What worked for others probably won't work for you. That's one of the reasons we have people you've only heard of because their your coworkers, classmates or kin. They've decided on a safer game, and play it well enough to make it work.

Distance in rear-view may be further than it appears.

Then you get people who can't play the safe game, but lack the courage to play for big stakes.

As much as they can reasonably describe the world, they don't trust their own description. They must not, because that description and their interactions with the world don't add up.

 

Look at this for 3 minutes:

 

By my own behavior, you'd never know I wrote and narrated that.

I love Hip Hop. The culture, not the records on the radio. I love how the collaborative nature of it brings together some of the most surprising works of art.

The obvious and classic example...

 

I also love how it used to be that you ran a narrow but distinct chance of getting stupid rich off it. Odds of success have gotten a little better lately, but at the cost of diminishing the potential return.

 

These guys got next.

 

As a kid & right through to my twenties, I wanted nothing else but to be part of exactly this kind of thing. Was on the way too - writing, performing, recording & reaching out. Even made national radio and TV for it. Not bad for a dorky little shit from up north.

Then I fucked up by going to college. That's a mistake for anybody who goes without knowing how it relates to what you wanna do with your life.

All fell apart in 1995 when the symptoms reached a breaking point. Symptoms for what, we didn't know. Just knew something had gone really wrong. I thought it was the world. Turned out to be my brain.

This is what dropping out felt like.

This is closer to what happened. 

Without getting into it again, here's a quick recap: A lot of years got wasted not knowing. A lot more got spent trying to know why, and how to deal. The last few have been the best so far.

Then this happened:

They keep telling me it was my idea. All I said was "mixtape."

 

From the mixtape came the idea to hold open auditions. From that came the idea of a charity fundraiser for Mike "Piecez" Prosserman's child, the UNITY Charity. One of my fellow studio interns got hold of Mindbender and brought him on board. The legendary Brownman Ali somehow got involved, to my delight. Mic Boogie agreed to host. Big Spesh K, Robbie G, and a heap of TO locals turned in some wicked performances.

 

It was totally out of control, yet somehow good things were happening. More than a year later, they're still happening. I'm glad to have been a part of this, and my small contribution has - with my gratitude - been blown way out of proportion.*

  

Weekly showcase resumes in 2012.

 

It's good to be appreciated for what you love doing, and what you flatter yourself to think is the one thing you're really fucking good at.

 

I took a lot home from it. I have the knowledge that I started a ball rolling that has brought some good and talented people together, who are now making awesome music, fun videos and lots of other cool stuff.

 

I also have the CD, a hard-copy reminder that I did something awesome.

  

Got the memories of production, promotion & the big event, and all the skills that came with em.

 

But when the curtain comes down, you're still flat broke.

  

No, no, no... flat BROKE, not flat BED.

 

Getting a job is easy. Keeping the job is easy. Becoming indispensable is easy. Keeping my head together on the job...

 

It becomes a question something like this: "Do I leave now on good terms, or wait til I become I liability and they're glad to see me go?"

 

How do I know that's the choice? Unvarying precedent. Except with the studio, but that's not what you'd call a livelihood. Internships don't pay.

 

Good news: The internship equipped me with a mountain of knowledge. Most of it's good, and some of it's unpleasant (like the realization that it doesn't pay the bills). But hey... I learned how to EQ properly, a few better uses for delay effects, and I can blog now.
 

It's something to do. Thank you Mr Jones.

 

Bad news: The thing I'm good at (the thing I can do well without losing the important kind of sanity) doesn't pay the bills.

 

Yeah, I've signed up with a very nice A&R company with a really solid reputation, but every week is a craps shoot. There are no guarantees that it will ever pay off. It hasn't so far anyway, and it isn't cuz I'm slouching. Cuz I ain't.

 

Life doesn't come with guarantees. There are good odds and bad odds. Good odds come with low risk and low (but reasonable expectations of) return. Bad odds come with high risk and often without return.

 

Sadly, for me good odds also come with diminished motivation, depleted mental energy, lack of hope for the future, complacency, and inevitable mental collapse.

  

 

Born for Blackjack, but the House keeps winning.

Doesn't matter. I keep playing. I don't know if the odds change every time I lose or not. Don't really care. Gotta play the next round. If not, what's the point in hanging around?

See you in another present.

*I made some beats & dropped some vocals. That ain't work to me.