Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Working Man - Exploration of a Theme

      Let's face it, there is one thing that all of us have to deal with.
      Sometimes it brings us joy, satisfaction, and even a purpose.
      Sometimes it brings us stress, aggravation, and even abject misery.
      Work.
      We all have to do it, whether you like it or not. It becomes a part of the fabric of our lives, and its up to us how we let it define who we are and what we do.
      Ever since I was 16, I have whiled away time working at a variety of different jobs. Sometimes it was a step back, sometimes a step forward, and there was even a little unemployment mixed in there. That was really fun, let me tell you. Thankfully, I got lucky enough for that period of time to be short, but that's for another day.
      Having experienced a whole spectrum of labor, words regarding these experiences came easy.
      And came by the truckload.
      So, starting on this theme of 'work', is the first in a series of poems. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think, as always. Thanks for reading.

Working Man

The door slams shut on his darkened box.
Groping for the light from above,
His boots come off with a sigh,
And the beer comes cold from the fridge.

His spine aches, and his callouses creak.
Depleted of youth and hardened with toil.
His eyes burn with exhaustion, and he groans,
Leaning back into his faux leather throne.

Cold suds warm his frozen chest, 
As the bottle is nursed into oblivion.
His dangling cigarette is a lone ember,
Floating in the blue, 60-watt haze.

Silence settles, and the evening ebbs away.
Peeling wallpaper is the new backdrop
As the last of the twilight falls,
And gives way to chirruping crickets.

The shower is scalding, and the steam refreshing
Erasing evidence of his daily grind.
Towels give way to a cloudy mattress,
Embracing him in a blanketed cocoon.

The bedside lamp is his final beacon,
As her picture stares back at him.
Smiling forever, enshrined in a battered frame.
He makes sure to smile back.

Click.   


-Stefan Adcock
2019


Tuesday, June 18, 2019

A Wedding and a Poem

      In October 2018, I had the distinct honor of being a groomsman in the wedding between Chris and Sarah Winger. You see, I had known Chris for going on 10 years when he met Sarah, and I knew from the get go that this was something special. We were living together at the time, and dealing with a whole litany of miserable issues, but thankfully we were able to come together and support each other as best we could.
      Then he met Sarah.
      It was amazing how well everything just clicked into place.
      It was like they picked up where they left off. Watching them come together, lift each other up, and give Sarah's son, Micah, a complete and organic family. It was a sight to behold and gave me, and everyone around them, a little more hope for the world.
      The words that follow just poured out of me.
      I was even blessed enough to be able to read it at their wedding.
      Those of you who were there, here is the tear-free version. For those of you who weren't, enjoy it and let me know what you think.
      Thanks Chris and Sarah for being a beautiful couple, irreplaceable friends, and just all around great human beings.
      Here it goes.
Intertwined

The great oak sits just past its forest
On the frontier of endless plains.
The great oak is content,
Stalwart and alone in its purpose.

When the sun sets, it sighs.
Dancing under the stars,
Bathed in moonlight
Nestled in its blanket of Heaven

The sun crests from behind
Beams raking the leaves,
Bathing the branches in warmth,
The ground begins to stir.

The oak has but one companion,
Only to emerge for one fleeting moment.
It is the morning mist,
Emerging from its earthen cocoon.

Ethereal arms reaching out
It penetrates the oaks bark.
Enveloping its trunk,
Relentless in its embrace

Time slows to a halt
Oak and mist fall away from Earth.
Taking each other’s hands,
They dance across eternity.

Stuck in their lovey dream,
Their happiness knows no bounds.
Until the oak’s roots find the ground,
And the mist is urged on higher

Time resumes, the sun hangs high.
The mist is long gone,
And the oak stands alone.
Solitary sentinel in its own world.

There is no sadness, though.
For the oak knows,
As does the mist,
They will see each other in the morning.

As sure as the sun will rise.


      Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a great day. 

Thursday, June 13, 2019

Dude, what happened?

That is a question that I find myself asking, as I do the math on my 6 month absence from this site.
Hokay.
So, here it goes.
My last post about the illustrious band, Vista Kicks, came about at a transitional period for me in my life. When I take stock in what was going on, I was generally fairly miserable, to be honest. I loved going out to shows, still, and I was absolutely delighted to write about whoever wanted me to write about them, but there was something percolating in the back of my mind.
Waking up in the morning to go to my day job was like revving up a broken toy. Not broken, but seriously lacking proper function, if that makes any sense. The day job was a fluorescent nightmare, where the only distraction was staring at a computer screen as I willed my e-mail inbox to stop filling up.
Or for the building to catch on fire.

Long story short, it was time for a change. Not only for better pay, but getting off work and going to shows, to keep writing words about wonderful people, was getting impossible. Even though I sat on my ass for 8 hours, I had a hard time even keeping my eyes open on my traffic-swelled commute home.
Eventually, about 2 weeks before the Vista Kicks show, I got a job offer with a stable public entity. The benefits alone made it a huge step in the right direction, even though it was a swing-shift custodial position. Not that there is anything wrong with that, for the record. I mean, I had done it before, and it was closer to where I was living by a long shot.
I wanted it so much more, that I was willing to sacrifice seeing weekday shows, since I would be leaving work at 11 p.m.
I can write and see stuff on the weekend, I reasoned. No biggie at all!
Wrong.
My days were filled with procrastination and anguish over doing even the most basic tasks. Paying bills, texting people back, getting food made in time for work, and even getting into the shower on time, were all worth ignoring as I scrolled on my phone with Netflix in the background.
Into the start of 2019, this was how my days would go, only interrupted to go to work. The only glimmer of positive change was that I joined a gym and started mixing some good old-fashioned sweat into the mix. It helped, and I started eating better, but my brain remained in a fog that I couldn't identify, let alone comprehend.

Finally, benefits kicked in at work, and I had a revelation after the gym one day. I found myself actually getting stressed out about getting home to take a shower, because of all the stuff I had to do.
The stuff that I had to do from yesterday.
And the day before.
And the day before that.
I drove home, white-knuckling the steering wheel as I wondered how I was going to plow through this list of to do items. Sweating like Chris Farley in 1996, I got home and exclaimed to my empty apartment,
"FUCK IT! GET IT DONE!"
And I did. It was literally two bills, a phone call to HR, and taking out the trash. When it was all said and done, I got into the shower as relief washed over me. So heavy was the relief, I just sat there, staring at my fogged-up shower door, wondering what went wrong.
And getting no answer.
Freshly laundered, I got on my computer and did what I always told myself I should do. I looked up a therapist.

From there, I got really lucky. Most people have to shop around for a correct fit, to either their problem, or even their personality. I found one 2 minutes from my apartment, and from our first appointment we had a good understanding and rapport. So much so, that it kinda scared me.
Was it supposed to be this easy?
Even with my hesitation, I went to the 2nd appointment, and got an answer.
Adult ADHD.
Now, I know what you may be thinking, and I was just as perplexed as you are.
But, I'm feeling all these other things, why say ADHD?
She imparted 2 pieces of wisdom that really framed the issue for me. The first one was that adults with ADHD have kids who have it. When I think about the way my family functions, it was super obvious how true that statement was. I won't go into specifics, but I will say that multiple family members would always shrug at the idea, and add,
"Oh yeah, I/So-and-So definitely has it, but its no biggie."
Right away I didn't feel like such a freak of nature. I mean, I dealt with it when I was a younger hellion of a child, but I just thought I grew out of it. The more accurate statement was that I just knew how to deal with it.
That led to the second part, which brought it all home. To make it clearer to me, she compared it to a toothache, or having a headache. You can tolerate the pain, and even shove it away, but as soon as something comes in to add to it, that added thing will always be worse. So much of your energy was dedicated to solving this first problem, that you had nothing left to do anything else.
DING DING DING
I sat in stunned disbelief as she wrote me a prescription. Everything was clicking into place as I drove to the pharmacy, and I felt like the fog of war had finally lifted.
Now I just had to hope the medicine worked.

From pill number 1, it was like the static surrounding my perception was gone. The mountains I had to climb on a moment-to-moment basis were now words on a sheet of paper, easily crossed off as I maneuvered through my day. I didn't have to white-knuckle anything anymore, except to hold on to weights at the gym.
Again, I got EXTREMELY lucky. I won't ever deny that, and I am not going to waste anymore time hiding.

I won't be able to get to most weekday shows, still, and I have made peace with that for the time being. Having a work-life balance I am satisfied with is what I have now, and it gave me a new perspective on what I want to do with this blog.
Poetry has entered my life, funnily enough. It used to be my way of venting my frustrations, my angst, and anything in between; but now I can use it as a new creative outlet that brings me just as much joy as writing about super talented musicians. Hopefully, I can impart that joy onto you lovely people.

I guess what I am trying to say is, that I am back at this.
Forthcoming posts will be poems, and tiny stories that I have written. Themes will be explored, and words will be wielded like flaming swords against the night.
I still will write about local talent in any aspect, but new creative writing works will be the new bulk of my content.

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to starting this renewed phase of life with you. Stay tuned.