I STILL Want My Boombox ( and artistic rant )

A family member posted a rather snide comment the other day because of my wanting to be able to go out and buy a boombox with the ability to record my songs. I don't know, maybe he thought he was being funny with his little comments about it being archaic and like a oxcart or a victrola. The only problem is that it wasn't funny. It was MEAN. I truly wish that I was good at tech things and could figure out how to record my songs on a computer. But it is not something I have figured out. It is easy on the boombox. And I have some great songs that I have recorded. And I believe there would be more great songs that could be recorded but I can't find a boombox. The only ones that have been out there, if you can even find them, have horrible sound quality.

I create. Creativity pours out of me. And I need something simple. I am a creative genius. I realize my family does not give a crap or believe in me. This is how God made me. He made me to create songs and fantasy and whatever ( poetry, art, fashion design ). I have handicaps when it comes to certain things and while I have tried to work around those things there are just some things that I can't seem to do no matter how hard I try. Besides, I would rather write, sing, paint, etc. Trying to force oneself to do something does not work. I am 61 years old. I am not going to be a geek. I admire geeks but I am not one. So my rant about something that WORKS FOR ME is a valid rant. I know there are thousands of people out there ( maybe millions ) who can relate to this particular issue. And in my case it is not only wanting to listen to old music on cassette tapes but also to record my own songs.

My family counts me out. But then they have always done so. I don't know if I can ever remember my family ever giving a damn about what I do or encouraging me. Oh they occasionally will say they like my poetry but I am not a poet. I WAS a poet when I was younger. Did I ever get any encouragement then? No. Any criticism was teardown rather than constructive.

Who knows? Maybe my family is so disdainful because I went to Hollywood and actually tossed my Bohemian beret into the cesspool of the entertainment industry. Letmesee, I hobbled off to Hollywood at age 40 and was neither a putout ( which would have made me a whore ) or a sellout ( which would have made me a fool ). So it makes me a holdout. And holdouts are not appreciated or respected unless they actually collect on the dues they have paid. Which has not happened yet. Will it ever happen? I hope so. I hope my ship comes in. I have been paying berth dues on it forever.

I am sick of working my ass off and getting nothing but attitudes from people who have always been too busy to actually sit down and READ some of my fantasy or listen to me sing some of my original songs. THEY DON'T KNOW ME. And it is sad but I don't think they ever will. Because they don't care and never have. I am a stranger to them. I wonder if some of them ( I m not singling any of them out so if anyone reads this and says "Oh she is talking about me" no I am not, it is in general, not one person in particular ) realize that the way they have treated me over the years is so mean spirited, so judgmental and self-righteous? I know my siblings ( with one exception ) have been hard working and I admire them for that. BUT I also know they have looked down their nose at my disabilities and consider it to be an excuse to be "lazy." But none of them know how hard I have worked and struggled.

So I will continue to write and sing and just pray that some day all this hard work will pay off. And then maybe my family will "appreciate" me. But I doubt it. If they don't care now why should they care if it finally pays off for me?

It hurts to not find a boombox. DAMN. I hate so called "progress." Give me back my boombox.

As far as the family, well you can't give them back to me because I don't think I ever had them in the first place. :-(

I guess this really brings home to me that I miss my friends in Hollywood. No, I did not become rich and famous there but I met some wonderful people and I miss them so much. Coming to the desert and having most of my family throw me under the bus after having kicked me to the curb really makes me appreciate what I had in Hollywood. And besides wanting my boombox back I want a cheap Hollywood apartment back to so I could be back where I belong, back with the beautiful losers who appreciate that my mind wears a psychedelic kaleidoscope rather than a gray flannel 9 to 5 mentality.

Maybe my family member was right. Maybe some things have gone the way of the dinosaur. But I still want my boombox back, I wish I had a cheap apartment in Hollywood that trust fund babies priced me out of, I wish I had back the family my rose colored glasses I used to wear told me I had.

Well, time to go fill up the half full glass I refuse to see as half empty with the lemonade I am making out of the lemons life has given me.

Depression sucks.