1983 or 2020: Which Was Worse?—Entrepreneuring pg137–138
Colorful companion to my memoir The Incompetent Psychic
1983
I started perusing the want ads with more diligence. One caught my attention and I called for an interview. Someone wanted an illustrator for a video production company a couple of towns away. I dusted off my portfolio of decorative design work from Las Vegas, groomed and presented myself for consideration late the next afternoon in Larry Beldon’s living room. I was the last of many applicants that day.
Larry had contracts with Olympic, Collegiate and Major League organizations. He made deals to use their coaches and teams to shoot, produce and sell instructional sports videos to high school and college coaches across the US and Canada. Larry made a brilliant start right out the gate. Being crazy adept at using other people’s money kept him with the lead horses in a Wild West race that was the home video industry for the next decade. I got to go along for the ride, but didn’t finish in the money. — From Chapter 7
I’m veering off topic this morning. It’s month nine of Covid isolation. I’m facing another hermit day after another lonesome day that was Christmas Day, but that’s just me whining. I am really fortunate and incredibly grateful for what I have. Compared to millions my life is so blessed it borders on fabulous. For 2020 I did okay. Personally I’m freaking lonely, and understand why so many are so compelled to have human contact that lives are being lost in terrifying spikes. I’ve been very careful to not do anything to raise that graph line by a single tick through this whole ordeal.
There are several more months to go as the new vaccine rolls out, and I have no plans to cut in line for it ahead of anyone who is doing a risky job to keep me fed and supplied with necessities. I want the people in line ahead of me to be agricultural workers, truck drivers and grocery store clerks—a line made six times longer by the distance we keep from each other.
The last storm here in the Catskills knocked out power to over 600 homes in my county late Christmas Eve. Maybe all those tall trees were protesting their children being killed for holiday decorations by diving onto power lines. Central Hudson repair and tree removal crews worked through the night and all Christmas Day. They should go ahead in the vaccine line, too. Really, I’m doing okay for now. I have heat, food and a damn good dog.
Although I had to stop teaching art classes and can’t have Airbnb guests, my paintings have been selling well enough on Etsy to keep the bills and taxes paid. Publishing a first book while author events and readings are verboten makes finding an audience a challenge, but I’m used to challenges. I have made independence from being an employee work for decades. The guy in portrait above showed me how. He also stole 15K from my parents.
I can hold on until spring without embraces, socializing and restaurants. There are phone calls and doggie hugs and a friend left cookies on my porch. 2020 is almost over. Although a raging fire is still burning in the dumpster that is the current administration, there is optimism that sanity and more gentle lessons will return. I can hang on through a few more storms while thinking better thoughts. Love, me.
Signed copies of Mernie’s memoir ship quick from www.etsy.com/listing/839838936
Unsigned copies can be ordered wherever books are sold.
