Remember in 2011 when you'd be able to read a post about a twitch I did? Remember when I used to birdwatch with my kids? Remember when all I asked for was ten minutes of your time each week? Remember when I did my best to write some funny shit for you about what its like to attempt a big year with twin 3-year-olds and a busy career in advertising? Remember when I started to feel down about not getting enough birds and you guys made me feel better about it?
Well, those days are gone. Now all you hear from me is, "Can I have 10 bucks? Or $10, 000 if you have it lying around? ", "Hey, tell your friends about me.", "Please introduce me to your friends so I can pat them down for a couple bucks." I post on your favourite Facebook sites, blogs, your pages even, constantly begging for a few dollars. And to top it off, you don't even know if you'll see anything at the end of it.
Re-read that paragraph. I'm basically the shittiest friend you've ever had. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this post so bare with me. This last week has been a real bugger for me. Work dumped a job on me that required lots of attention exactly on the 2 weeks I was supposed to meet my editor and start this process, effectively eating up all my time so I can't move on and start so you actually get something for your generous donations. Then, both my kids get the flu so neither my wife nor I sleep right for about 7 days.
This kind of shit breaks a couple down. No sleep + puking kids + extra hours at work + a guy trying to make a film = parents that fight. We are pretty good though, Rachel and I. We get through stuff and really, this ain't even that bad, as terrible goes. But I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Please tell me there's a light out there where most people live. That place where you don't try and make a movie on your free time with your own cash (and cash you can get from complete strangers and friends). I sure hope that place is out there. The place where this film is done and I can stop begging you all for a few dollars every time we cross paths (virtually or otherwise). Because honestly, I'm sick of begging for money.
I was a bit depressed when I started writing this but now, not so much. Why? Well, if I'm to be completely honest, it's because I wrote this on the GO Train and we just arrived in Toronto. Upon standing up to get off the train, I realized that my pants have been unzipped the entire morning so far. I wonder if it's related to the fact that nobody is sitting next to me. Sigh.
Paul Riss
Punk Rock Big Year
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