crazytown

I attended a friend's first radio broadcast last Sunday and it was a bit of a shitshow.
Mainly because the friend had invited a bunch of friends (including me) to stop by, play some music, read a story, whatever, and let's just say it was a motley cast of characters.
A few musician types, with interesting noms de plume and beards and tattoos.
A twitchy ex-bouncer who dropped the f-bomb a couple of times on the air and rattled off a lengthy story about getting fired from a local club and restraining orders and people out to get him--all while livestreaming on Instagram.
Me, erstwhile writer, nervous about reading and feeling ever more claustrophobic in the warm, b.o.-smelling booth.
My friend, increasingly frantic from the sort-of inadvertent swears ($3K a pop per the FCC) and the need to keep sounds, any sounds, on the air.
I like the shitshow, though.
You don't know what will happen.
It's interesting.
It's real.

Thought for today

the sound and the fury

So there's this neurological psychological something-ogical thing I've dealt with since I was a teenager.
Until recently, no one seemed to know much about it, and when I say no one, I mean researchers (OHSU), shrinks, counselors, doctors, audiologists--no one.
Misophonia.
It's gotten more attention lately from a few celebrities and the New York Times, but no one seems to know what causes it or how to treat it. You can see, if you watch the Kelly Ripa video, how the ABC News interviewer goes from disbelief, to chuckling, to digust as Kelly tries to explain.
So the few of us that have it, have to deal with it pretty much on our own.
That sucks. Big time sucks. It's not a problem on the level of the big diseases, to be sure, but it's a daily quality of life thing. A daily challenge to sanity and equilibrium and general well-being. It makes me stay home when I want to go out. It makes me cranky and short-tempered when I want to be laid-back and relaxed.
My own shrink has thrown in the towel.
I mention it rarely, because when I do, I'm faced with disbelief or incomprehension.
How can it be that bad?
Suck it up.
You're crazy.
Anyway, this is a first step for me.
I plan to keep looking and talking and hoping. 

he

you beat me
you wouldn't let me cry
you sat beside me with your arm around me and told me that you loved me
. . .
Chaos right now.
I have love, I have people, I have I have I have.
But no one can reach me.
No one can save me but me.