Apathy

Faithful readers of my blog may have noticed something about me lately. I’m not around all that much. My posts these days are few and far between. The pithy, insightful comments I used to disperse liberally upon the blogosphere like scattered crumbs to starving birds are now a rare sight indeed. Angrypiper.com hasn’t had an update in months: no new book reviews, no new rants, no new pictures. Nothing. It’s dying a quiet death, and it seems I can’t find the energy to care.

Why this general melancholy, you ask? I attribute it to several things, most notably a deep and abiding feeling of Indifference that seems to be fully present within me at all times. It’s not depression or a personality disorder; I’m more than passing familiar with both of those. It’s just an overall feeling of…blah. I no longer find as much joy in what I was hoping to accomplish here, online. More on that later. Suffice it to say I should be focusing my efforts towards other areas of my life (not that that’s happening, either), since for the most part, my life’s a mess.

Last year, I did a post all about New Year’s Resolutions. I said then (and still say now) that they’re crap. If you want to make a change, make it. You don’t need to wait for a particular time of the year to do it. (Funny how I never practice what I preach.) Just for shits and giggles, last year I posted my four resolutions for public perusal. I am unsurprised to say I have accomplished none of them.

You see, that’s my problem. One of them, anyway—I have many. No matter how fired-up I am about something, I never follow through with it for very long. I’m hell on wheels out of the gate, but I lose my interest before I really get my second wind. Ask my parents. Or my aikido sensei. Or any number of past sexual partners, for that matter, but that’s another story. The point is I’m rarely in it (whatever "it" may be) for the long haul.

Take my bagpipes, for example. No, I mean it...take them. They’ve been broken for about two years now; a slow leak that can be fixed, but I’ve been told by a couple of pipesmiths that it would be more to my benefit to buy a new set of pipes. Despite the hefty expense, I could certainly have done this in the past two years. Instead, I contented myself with the practice chanter, and slowly but surely I started practicing less and less. I pick it up now and then, play a few uninspired notes or, more often, just stare at it for a few seconds before returning it to its place on the shelf.

Back in August, I quit my diet after dropping 18 lbs. in about 3 weeks. I stopped because I was on vacation and felt that as such I should be able to eat and drink whatever I wanted. I never went back to it and have since put most (if not all) of the weight back on. I could be in great shape if only I had the motivation to exercise, but I don’t and never have. I’m a fairly big guy, and if I worked out I’d be huge. I know this because the Angry Veteran’s pretty jacked and he and I have the same basic body type; only he works out and I don’t; so he looks good, and I don't. (I am way cooler than him, however: AP is to AV as the Fonz is to Richard Simmons.)

I’ve been whining about trying to get published for years now. Last year at this time I even convinced myself I was serious about it. Over the past year I’ve written a bunch of stories; started (and stopped) a novel; been encouraged by the success of one of my writer friends; encouraged my fellow wannabe–writer friends to write; bought and read a bunch of books on the writing process; subscribed to Writer’s Digest and The Writer magazines and bought a copy of the 2006 Writer’s Market. I still haven’t done anything about submitting any of my material. I have a great idea for a book that I am uniquely qualified to write, but I haven’t submitted query letters to any editors. Not because I’m afraid of rejection, mind you. I fully expect to be rejected; anyone who has read as many books about writing as I have learns that lesson early. Instead I’m afraid my idea might be met with enthusiastic approval, and then I’d actually have to write the book.

My boss (my new boss, not my old asshat boss who got fired) happens to be a good friend. He knows about my writing aspirations and has made me an offer so ridiculous in its generosity that I would have to be an asshat myself to pass it up. That being said, I’m ambivalent about the morality of the offer vs. the staggering benefits of it, and I’m considering rejecting it. I’d like to say ambivalence is the real reason I’m considering rejecting it, but I think it may be more truthful to admit it’s because if I take his offer it will destroy any excuse I have to avoid writing, and I find that terrifying.

One of the multitude of things readers may not know about me is that I love to cook. I’m not talking about making sandwiches here, I mean really cook. I enjoy preparing food in new and different ways. I am fascinated with different cooking techniques and flavor pairings. I like making things I have never made before, then honing a recipe over time and adding my own personal touches until it becomes another weapon in my culinary arsenal, which is pretty vast as it is. I love to plan meals for myself and shop for the best and freshest ingredients, and I enjoy my time in the kitchen every bit as much as I enjoy the fruits of my labors.

I have never been a big TV watcher, but lately I find I’m addicted to the Food Network, and I’ve been known to get a little crazy if I miss an episode of Top Chef or Hell’s Kitchen. I love eating in restaurants with exposed kitchens and I can spend hours watching the hustle and bustle of chefs at work. One of the books I got myself for Christmas is Heat, by Bill Buford. Buford is a writer for The New York Times who decided late in life to learn how to be a chef. Of course, Bill Buford is a personal friend of Chef Mario Batali, which no doubt has its advantages when you’re trying to learn from the best culinary artists in the world.

Buford’s book and my own longtime culinary interests have made me consider becoming a chef myself. Lucky for me, I am acquainted with my own failings enough to realize it would be to my advantage to take a few cooking classes before I balls-out enroll in culinary school. The reason is simple: I don’t want to pay my dues.

There’s a famous story about Liberace; I have no idea if it’s true or not, but it doesn’t really matter. After one of his performances, a listener told him: “I would give half my life to be able to play like you.” And Liberace replied: “Well, that’s exactly what I did.”
There’s a lesson there, but it’s lost on me. I have no interest in years of hard work. That sucks. I just want to learn how to be a better cook, not have to deal with stuff like this:

Me: OK, I spent all night sharpening my wicked expensive knives to deadly keenness. I’m ready to cook.

Chef: Good. Go chop those 50 lbs. of carrots.

Me: You’re kidding, right? Don’t we have sous-chefs for that?

Chef: No, the sous-chefs will be busy cooking. Now get to work.

Me: But…But…When do I get to say “BAM!”?

Chef: After several thousand more pounds of carrots, you can say “bam.” Once. But no capitals. And you may as well forget the exclamation point right now.

Which brings us back to me, and my blog and my website. Incidentally, there were supposed to be two (completely unrelated) websites, and I have the domains and space bought and registered to prove it...but nothing happened, because I haven't done anything. Typical.

But regarding the site you're all familiar with, Angrypiper.com, it’s not really working out the way I wanted it to, mainly because it’s not as interactive as I would like it to be. It’s mostly me putting stuff up with little or no feedback. No emails to me about the site. No feedback in the Forums, which have recently re-opened. I was hoping to jumpstart some good literary discussions there. No luck. I can also be honest and say the site itself looks like total butt. My site used to get lots of traffic, and it still does; but now, after so many months of nothing new, most of my visitors are likely Bots waiting for me to delete my domain so they can pounce on it, destroy my hard work and put up “Spam Central.”

Don’t fret. It won’t happen. I’m not giving up on the site, so don’t delete it from your Favorites menu just yet.

I just need to start caring again. I guess it might help if I knew others did, too.