I hope everyone, no matter where you are, is doing well. Things are opening back up here at a strange pace. It blew my mind on my nightly perambulation to see people with their hairs and nails did waiting in line at restaurants here in Vancouver.
I want to offer people to check out the new site and let me know how it looks. Props to the NetGod Morgan for the stunning facelift she gave this old bag of bones and breathed some lovely life into it. The blog and the page itself has been sacrificed for the YouTube channel and the upcoming launch (July 21) of Becoming Buddha. I have already seen some early reviews and they are actually good; the reviewers seemed confused as to what they read and had a real difficulty in appreciating the tongue-in-cheek aspect of the title, but really solid reviews nonetheless. I’ll link them closer to launch. I have also tried to expand the methods in which my works can be accessed, through IngramSpark and in looking towards Shopify. As of writing, we’re still rocking with Amazon babayyy.
I myself have been summoned from the cozy depths of my fortress by the coach’s tap on my shoulder to knife-up once and hop over the boards again to pleasure the masses back at ye olde oyster house. My company has two locations and we have been giving the green light to open. We’re starting with the smaller location in a busier part of town, what some may call an establishment for the smaller seaside community across the bridge from my downtown abode. I ain’t never put in a day there, should be interesting – for many a reason.
The consensus with my people is some what mottled by the diversity of personalities, ages and socio-economic statuses in the community.
Some are keen to work for financial reasons and the even-more important social aspects. More than a couple of my mates have found themselves barrelling in and out of despair, heavy-drinking and beyond-habitual weed use.
Others are salty that we are moving quickly back into our workplaces with ad-hoc safety measures in place. Made evident by the reality that many offices and occupations able to be done remotely are still without a tenable timeframe in returning.
Meanwhile, an overriding sentiment is a feeling of duress that speaks to us having to back to work, whether we want to or not; whether we are fearful of our safety or unbothered; if we miss our jobs or have enjoyed pursuing other means of spiritual and temporal satiety. All of us, all service industry folk in restaurants, barber shops, hotels, any hospitality professional: we need loot.
Living on the dole is much better in this country than many, I get that and I am not complaining. However, speaking from a personal standpoint, as a business owner with pursuits beyond the walls of my restos (as many many many of us are or have), the months of not toiling away daily/nightly on someone else’s dream has deflated my stash considerably.
I made the choice to go-ahead with the launch and to invest in the YouTube endeavor and the website remodeling, that’s on me. And, unpopular as fuck, hot as the earth’s womb-type take, but I have enjoyed this time off. I feel as though I’ve thrived and made moves I wouldn’t have if I was pushing the boulder. But now, months into living quite skin-flint and doing so by the snapping of my own fingers, I really do have to make some Lucci.
That said, I would never go back to work if I didn’t have to. I personally don’t miss the social interactions as much as many and, though I enjoy my job, I have no passion for it. I fear that the first custy that speaks down to me, comes out of pocket or proffers that it must be so nice for you guys to go back to work or even worse I have been so bored without being able to get out of the house. Most people have been locked up, don’t forget this happened to all of us.
Please keep in mine which side of the gun you’re on when you go out and be mindful when you interact with your service professional.
My barber is nervous to be back. A server friend of mine is furious that people have regressed to their old Karen-esque ways without missing a beat. The people who have lined up at the door’s the instant that it was permissible, once regulars and borderline friends have proven themselves to be nothing more than patrons. There is no give-and-take to them in this relationship, it has elucidated the master-slave dynamic in less-than hushed tones.
The feeling amongst SOME of us is as such: We hold no power. We all need to stock the coffers back because it has been raining for months on end. Our worth has plummeted to that of a destitute man in a depression era.
Many folk are bemused at having been spun on a witch’s hat and thrown off. Within a few days we’ve been summoned back into the roles that had previously, within a few days, waved goodbye to us with the same ignoble mitt that bid a ‘see you when I see you’ callousness.
The reality that we all need to earn dough is what drives us. Not the love for the sport, not some triumphantly jubilant yearning to wait tables and make idle chatter with strangers. Of course, many have looked forward to unfurling their social-papillon wings, and to them: I’m happy for you. Really and genuinely, I hope it cures what has assailed upon you for months now.
I will miss, as work begins to become more impactful on my writing and research time, the freedom that I’ve have in my little, noisy-from-nonstop-construction-and-fiend-screams box. I really was able to look into the crystal ball and see my life if writing sustained itself: pretty fucking sweet, man.
I’d travel more. Be stationary when I was in novel mode, but I would wander and learn and write. This whole experience has taught me that I can be alone and that the solitude can maintain the same structure as a work life with enough discipline. The sky can be the limit when you paint your own clouds.
Anyways… Just a quick note. We’re moving towards the second wave with this and we’ll only be able to watch keenly as to how the world begins to flake out of its incubation and shed the hibernation stink.
I pray I don’t sound sullen.
I’m not. I swear.
I’m authentic in my hopes that my fellow workers can untangle the complex and strange sentiments, fluid and entirely dissimilar to one another. For those that need the return, I hope that it puts you back on track. For those who are scared to get sick and watch the movie play out again from the beginning, I hope that your anxiety does not swell and capsize your spirit.
For those like me, for whom going to work is now solely about making up for the crater of loot that was spent during the quarantine; who are worried about the tests in patience; who may have quietly celebrated a time to rejoice in what could be considered as a creative-type’s high-water mark; who are a mite bit chagrinned that their lives not dictated whatsoever by their own bayonets: desires, objectives, goals, passions, wants; and are instead guided by the pulsating needs to fund such things.
Fuck it, let’s go. Back to the mines ye weary peasants. Grab the shovels and axes and let’s grind this life out until our saliva is black and our eyes have readjusted to the lamp-light.
I know it won’t be so bad. We are an adaptable species and this is something that needs to happen to get all of us back on track. I hope that we do adapt and not rescind. It feels like shaking dice at a table ensconced in green velvet like “Come on humanity, don’t fail me now.”
I hope everyone has checked out and subscribed to the YT channel. If you haven’t there are some real gems and I can do things that I can’t do here. I think moving forward it will be more YT based, because, well, it is actually kind of fun. I will be putting Buddha up for pre-orders soon. The reviews should be up in the next bit, depending on how slammed I get with work in the next bit. I think that’s it. Please feel free to tell a friend about the new site now that (s)he’s so darn pretty.
Take care and stay safe,
Sorry for cussin’,
Papa Croft
