On My Autobiography

As I have mentioned before in earlier posts, I listen to a lot of audio books at work. Because I borrow a lot of them from my sister, there is quite a bit of variety in my selection. If I had my own library, it would be mostly Sci-Fi and Fantasy. Because of my sister, I have delved into everything from The Hunger Games to Fifty Shades of Grey to Atlas Shrugged. I was recently thinking about some of the autobiographies I had come across in my listening: the first was Tough Shit: Life Advice from a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good by Kevin Smith; second was American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson; and the third was Bossy Pants by Tina Fey. All were good books, and I enjoyed them very much, but I find autobiographies usually make me react in two ways.

Firstly, autobiographies give me brief spurts of creative energy: I get momentarily inspired and work furiously on a project for a week or so. Then my well runs dry, I lose focus (or life ends up running me over) and the project I was working on gets abandoned (until my next inspirational surge). I keep hoping I can ride one of these spurts of energy to greatness, but soon realize that success does not come instantaneously. The people who wrote these books tell tales of struggle and accomplishment and I seem to forget about those pesky struggling parts. There is also the sense of time that is missed. When Kevin Smith says that he worked hard to get the money, talent, equipment and the time to shoot his movie Clerks and it is told on two or three pages, one can lose sight of the fact that it was accomplished over many months, if not years. No one achieves fame or success overnight, unless their step dad is Bruce Jenner and they are "caught" on a sex tape,and then it's all reality shows and non-stop media coverage. (Hmmmm, a sex tape... yeah no, this will never happen!)

Secondly, I find that autobiographies make me feel absolutely pathetic. I read/listen to the author tell how they had a dream and then proceeded to make it happen. There were usually trials and tribulations along the way, but despite it all, they persevered. I think that I am supposed to be inspired and run out and try to make my dreams a reality, but it usually backfires and just makes me feel worse about my life.

Let me say before I go on, that I have few regrets in my life, and I am by no means unhappy with my life at the present. I have an amazing wife, awesome children and it seems that things are only getting better with each passing year. I can't even say that I regret my first marriage, although granted, it certainly wasn't the best time of my life; but I ended up adopting 3 awesome kids whom I love very much, so how could I could I ever say that I truly regretted it?

When I say these books make me feel worse about my life, I mean my professional life. I have always been a dreamer and that has manifested itself in many ways. I have always been interested in art. My mother told me that when I was in Kindergarten I drew a picture that the teacher had shown her of an Indian (I'm sorry, Native American) village, or something like that. The teacher was impressed by the details I put in the picture, including the blood dripping out of the arrow wounds of the little stick people.

As I got older I became a doodler and took a couple of art classes in high school, probably the mandatory ones. I don't remember any art teacher ever saying, "Hey John, that's pretty good," or giving me any other encouragement, so I certainly did not think of art as anything but a fun hobby. I would not give art a second thought until I was a sophomore in college, where I was bitten by the Walt Disney bug. That is the phrase that I apply to that delusional moment when you say to yourself, "Why, you can do anything you want in life, as long as you work hard and follow your dreams."

Maybe delusional is not a fair statement, some people know exactly what they want to do with their lives and doggedly pursue their dreams. Most people don't make it, but some do, and then write autobiographies about their accomplishments. For goodness sake, Justin Bieber has an autobiography, and he is only 20 years old.... isn't this a bit premature? He obviously knew what he wanted to do at an early age and went for it. To be honest, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, and I am 43.

I started college with the intent on taking computer programming, because that seemed like it would be something that I could make some good money with later in life. After getting a 2.5 in my first semester class and a 2.0 (my lowest grade ever) in the second class, I decided I needed to shift my focus. That is when the Walt Disney bug actually bit me. I always enjoyed doodling as a kid, even tried to make some comic book characters (I still remember one of my heroes was Tsunami Man--though, with the disasters of the last few years, maybe that would not have been the greatest Superhero name.) so I thought I'd give art a shot. I did pretty well and my grades improved dramatically and I was actually enjoying my classes. I even made the Dean's List 3 of my last 4 semesters.

Then I graduated and got accepted into grad school at the Memphis College of Art in Memphis, Tennessee. Unfortunately, I got married before I started (I will tell this tale in detail at another time) and ended up dropping out halfway through the first semester. That was probably the last time I really did any art. There was a brief time when a good friend recruited me to help with a project that he started. I was very excited about it but the project ended up falling to the wayside. I really wasn't in a position to help that much; between a demanding wife and three active kids, free time was at a minimum. I got a few sketches to him but that was about it. Besides, for me, art is something that needs to be kept up with and one can't expect to not draw anything for a decade and jump right back into it. (I am happy to say that the work he did turned into his first novel. I have plugged it before and I will again: The Daedalus Incident by Michael J. Martinez. He has also turned out a novella called The Gravity of the Affair and book two of the series, The Enceladus Crisis, is coming out May 6th, Order it now on Amazon. He didn't even pay me for that plug!) So for now, the dream of becoming a great artist/illustrator has been set aside.

I have always loved stand up comedy as well. In high school I listened to Andrew Dice Clay, Sam Kinison, Eddie Murphy, Bill Cosby and whatever comedy albums I could get my hands on. I would dream about getting up on stage and performing, even going so far as writing some bits up. My classmates voted me class clown and everyone always complimented me on how funny I was. Unfortunately, I grew up in a small farm town in upstate New York and was nowhere near any comedy venues or open mic nights. Besides this, I was incredibly shy. Around people I was comfortable with, I could say whatever I wanted and act however I needed to in order to get a laugh. The thought of doing the same thing in front of strangers was terrifying.

When I got to college nothing really changed, except I had access to actual live comedy shows. The school had a comedy series and would regularly get comedians to perform at the school. I went to as many shows as I could, watching, taking in their acts, wishing I had the guts to do the same thing. I never did. We did have a little talent show for two years in International House, the place I resided for most of my college career. One year I sang a duet with my good friend Jalal, who sadly is no longer with us. We sang Ram it Down by Judas Priest, a capella. There was no real preparation--we just agreed to do it and read the lyrics off the cassette jacket, with fist hammering motions. It went over well and we got some good laughs. I cannot sing, which is why it was probably entertaining to watch.

The other year at the talent show I decided to show off my juggling skills. I talked while I was juggling and it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I know it was just a little thing, but the adrenaline rush I got and the energy I got from the crowd was awesome. But, it was not enough to get me to try it again. Where the people in the autobiographies would have used the experience as a catalyst to their future careers, I just went on living, never trying to achieve more. Then I left school, got married, and just let the dream of becoming a stand up comedian fade away as well.

Another dream I have had (and still have) is becoming a writer. I know this may be a surprise, as you read my blog (that was sarcasm, by the way), but I would love to write something someday. My brain is constantly bombarded with story ideas and I have started numerous projects. Unfortunately, I pretty much blew off English classes in school, never having the slightest interest in writing until maybe the last 10 years or so.

English and writing were the furthest things from my mind when I was in college; I guess my brain has only so much dream capacity. When I got out of college and my other dreams seemed to be unattainable (not that they really were in actuality, I just wasn't mental/spiritually capable of making them happen-- in other words I was too much of a coward to take a chance), I started thinking about writing.

I frequently have had story ideas pop into my head. I think part of it comes from all the fantasy roleplaying I do. Constantly coming up with adventures to run my friends through really gets the creative juices flowing. For those unfamiliar with fantasy roleplaying, basically it is creating stories that your friends take an active part in. You create a story with an open plot and the players, who take on the roles of the protagonists, interact with the setting you have created and try to resolve the mystery/adventure/whatever the story is about.

I have actually written a book, but it currently resides in two one-subject notebooks, that I am now very slowly rewriting and getting into an electronic format. I have tried writing a couple of screenplays and have several movie ideas bouncing through my head which I hope someday to get down. This dream I haven't "abandoned" yet.

There are other projects I have started: I tried to develop a card game and often think of coming up with my own roleplaying game or system. But, this post is now getting waaaay too long, so I will not go into any other dreams I have had. Let me get back to the main topic--if you remember, it was about autobiographies--so I can wrap this up.

All I know is that I have been writing this blog since last May--believe me, I am stunned I haven't given up on it by now. It's amazing how much more you can achieve with a supportive wife. (And one who does understand how the English language works. I should publish a post that she hasn't edited and you will see how bad my grammar is.)

As I reread this blog, I realized that I did little more than whine about how I haven't really followed any of my dreams. All I have to say is, not yet! I haven't given up; I still have plenty of years to turn this around and I am going to do it! In fact, this post has nearly inspired me to write my own autobiography. Why should famous people have all the fun? Instead of tales of inspiration from those who have traveled the road to success, you can hear the tale of a chubby kid with low self-esteem and high hopes, who grew into a chubby guy with low self-esteem, working a dead-end job. A guy who found the courage to leave a bad marriage after 15 years and ended up reconnecting and marrying an old college friend he hadn't talked to in over seven years. A girl who makes him feel like his dreams are attainable and who is more of an inspiration than any book I have ever read or listened to. This, by the way, is just a cheap ploy to get her to continue editing my blog, but don't tell her that.

On Creativity in the bathroom and passing it on

As one can tell from the title of my blog, I spend a lot of time in the bathroom. That's not to say that I suffer from some sort of lower intestinal problem--it's just that when I have to go number 2, I like to take my time. Being someone who tries to be efficient, I try to make the best use of my bathroom time whenever I am in there. Life is so busy, especially with a 2 year old, that it's not very often that one gets to sit down and have 10-30 minutes of alone time. That is why the bathroom is a logical place to get some shit done, literally and figuratively. (Sorry to work blue... or brown.... I better stop here...)

And let's face it, when you're on the toilet it's your time. People tend to leave you alone when you're in the bathroom (well, except for kids) so you can do whatever you want... within reason. That which brought you in there usually doesn't take up too much of your attention, unless you're having a really rough go of it, so it is truly your own private time. Nice and quiet, sometimes a bit smelly, but very relaxing. Thank God Lay-z-Boy doesn't make a toilet, I'd never leave!

The three "extra" activities I most commonly engage in while on the throne are writing, reading and using my laptop. I do a lot of writing in cheap one subject notebooks and have tons of started projects all over the house. There is almost always a notebook within easy reach as I walk (and sometimes run) to the bathroom. The bathroom is a wonderful place to just get ideas and stories onto paper. Since the trip usually ends with paper, it is good for the sake of continuity.

In terms of reading, there is usually a book at both of our toilets, just in case the need to read comes upon me. If I am actually reading a book--which doesn't happen as much as it used to, being a devout audio book listener--I have been known to take unnecessary bathroom breaks, just to get more reading time. You know a book is good when you take 10 bathroom breaks a day and each time you finish, your butt and legs are numb.

The most recent, and now primary bathrooming activity, would be using the laptop. The computer gives me the ability to do many different activities. Whether it is playing a game, checking my Social Media or writing, the laptop is now something that usually is my bathroom companion. I even have a little table in the downstairs bathroom that I set the computer on so I don't overheat my lap. (If you're perverted and your mind has gone there, feel free to insert an internet porn comment here.)

I mention all of this to make another point. Sometimes, as a parent, I truly forget how much influence we have over our children. They sit and watch everything we do, the good and the bad. How many times, for those parents out there, have you heard your child use a phrase or a word and said to yourself "Where in God's name did he/she hear that?" Then you realize it is a phrase you have used your entire life and just never noticed. Some parents forget that children have ears and despite the other twenty activities they are currently performing, they are listening to every word you say. That's why you should really wait and run down your family to your spouse after the kids are asleep. That's some free advice! It will save you some embarrassing moments at the next family picnic.

In addition to copying language, children also mimic behavior. Why does my daughter pick her nose constantly? (I say this with my finger first knuckle deep in my nose.) We are their role models and what we do--there is a good chance they will do it as well. We all hope our children will pick up the good stuff and not the bad but usually it is mixture of both, especially for children under 5. I don't know if it is a good thing or not, but my daughter has definitely developed my need/love to spend quality time on the toilet.

I posted on my Facebook account a couple of weeks ago how, when my daughter announces she has to go to the bathroom, it turns into a scene from the movie "The Jerk." It's the scene after Steve Martin loses his fortune and is writing checks out to pay people back who bought his glasses thing. After a conversation with his girl, he says that he doesn't need anything and starts grabbing random items from around the house, and saying "except this thing". My daughter does something similar, without the dialogue (and without her pants around her ankles.) She just starts grabbing random toys and items as she works her way to the bathroom. The other day she had a cup, a comb, a doll, a notebook and pen. She'll bring a snack. She'll bring a book. Whatever she was doing before the need to go hits her, comes along with her to the restroom.

She grabs whatever she can and marches to the bathroom, arms full. If she can't carry it all she will ask whoever is accompanying her to lend a hand. Once in the bathroom she piles the stuff on the little table/stand we have set up in there. Then she asks me to snug the table up to the toilet so she can play.

The thing that she does the most on the toilet is draw. I have a bunch of scrap paper that I bring home from work and she grabs a couple of sheets and her crayon container and heads in. She'll be in there so long that the kids seat we have set on it toilet leaves grooves on her butt, yet she doesn't seem to mind. It has been amazing watching her squiggles turn into recognizable things. Granted, she is primarily drawing smiley faces, but still I'm impressed.

I don't know if it is wrong or not, but I feel a little bit of pride every time I walk past the open bathroom door and see her so engaged in whatever she is doing. I feel I have opened up the First Stall of her bathroom creativity and hope someday a masterpiece/great discovery of some sort will arise from her porcelain throne. Maybe my daughter will find the cure for cancer during a particularly slow bowel movement. Perhaps she will write an Oscar-winning screenplay or a Grammy-winning song after a Mexican feast gone wrong. All I know is I would love to hear her on stage some day accepting her Nobel prize/Oscar/Grammy and thanking not only her mom and dad, but also Sir John Harrington, the inventor of the flush toilet.

P.S. Don't be creeped out that I have so many different pictures of my daughter on the toilet. I just happened to have the camera handy and was cracked up by what she was doing.