Common Denominator

“Common Denominator.” 8/12/24. Acrylic paint and pigment ink. 8×10″.

We all know people who refuse to take responsibility for their problems. Anything wrong is always someone else’s fault. I don’t think I’m guilty of this, but a recent set of incidents gave me cause to reflect. 

Two spats with friends but, in both cases, I was confident I’d done nothing wrong. When CONFLICT #3 happened though, I knew I needed to examine my part in it. After all, I’m the COMMON DENOMINATOR. It must be my fault, right?

And, generally speaking – usually – I think that’s true. If a person is repeatedly having the same issue with different people, it’d be pretty unbelievable if they weren’t responsible for those issues. So I set my hurt feelings and anger aside for a moment and went back over everything that had happened. But I couldn’t get there. I genuinely didn’t believe that my actions were the root cause of the problem. “Y’know what the real common denominator is here?” I thought to myself, “It’s that these people are immature, insecure fucking diaper babies, incapable of having a conversation about their feelings and actually working through (something that shouldn’t even be) a problem.”

That felt pretty shallow though (TRUE AS IT MAY BE) – to be placing the blame in that way. It also wasn’t lost on me that if my friends suck, that definitely says something about me as much as it does them.

It’s long been a point of pride that I have so many, decades-long friendships. I felt it spoke to my character that I maintained so many relationships for so long. But there’s a reason that’s uncommon. Human beings aren’t really capable of maintaining deep, meaningful relationships with too many people. We’re lucky if we can manage as much with our family, a partner, and maybe a friend or two. No matter what Facebook tells you, no one has hundreds or even a dozen friends. What we actually have is friendly acquaintances. People we have affection for but aren’t consistently, intimately involved with. We might be there for one another when needed, but until those moments happen, we’re just hanging out. It’s not very deep.

My problem was that I’d confused acquaintances for friends. We’ve been on good terms for decades but we don’t really know each other. We’re not committed to one another’s well-being in any serious way. I’d presumed an understanding of one another, thought we had shared values, and expected them to behave consistently with those values. I treated these people as I would treat actual friends and made the mistake of expecting that they would do the same. That’s on me.

Real friendships aren’t unlike marriages; they’re tested by conflict and are only as meaningful as their commitment to finding solutions. If someone doesn’t care enough to resolve a problem (or doesn’t have the emotional maturity to) that makes for a weak relationship and not much of a friendship.

Friendly acquaintances can be fun, rewarding, and even ultimately become real friendships. But unless one does, I need to keep it in the proper perspective and not be emotionally invested in something shallow. I’m grateful for the meaningful relationships I do have – which are more than enough to occupy my attention and energy.

Hey, YOU! I count on your support! The original “Common Denominator” painting has already been sold but limited-edition 8×10” prints are available for purchase. As always, each one is beautifully-packaged, hand-numbered, and personally signed by YOURS TRULY. Buy one and help KEEP THE DREAM ALIVE.

If you haven’t yet read my SALACIOUS prose poem from a week or so ago (OR EVEN IF YOU HAVE), because it wasn’t already embarrassing enough, I made it into a video. And because THAT’s not embarrassing enough, I specifically made it into a TIK TOK video. Go watch it. And follow me on there. My understanding is that that’s where all the KIDS AND MONEY are these days, so I need to build a FOLLOWING.

https://www.tiktok.com/@sammythrashlife/video/7416041826924170542


Mowgli

"Mowgli." 8/20/13. Watercolor, marker, pen, acrylic, collage. 9x12".
“Mowgli.” 8/20/13. Watercolor, marker, pen, acrylic, collage. 9×12″. (The last of the pieces made while on tour with Rational Anthem earlier this month).

Zack and his mom were in the front yard when we pulled up to get him. From inside the van, I heard him say my name and when we spilled out, he pointed me out and said something about “Mowgli.” I thought that was pretty funny seeing as we have pretty similar taste in attire and I’m constantly scratching at real or imagined bugs in my hair. It’s an apt comparison.

It's an apt comparison.

 

Today is Tuesday – that’s my one day of the week when I have a routine in the outside world. I meet with my counselor at 10 AM and then go to an NA meeting at noon. It’s a reason to put clothes on. The rest of the time, I tend to not be very dressed. I ride around town without shirt or shoes because my only destinations are Alex and Angie’s (to do yardwork) or the convenience store up the street from my house. Sometimes I keep a shirt or shoes in my backpack though just in case. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m pretty free. I do whatever I want to do. Not only do I not have to put on a uniform or a collared shirt every day, I don’t really have to put on much of anything. That’s only significant insofar as what it says about the world and life I’ve built for myself.

I made plenty of friends in the years when I was a college student, but I only made one friend in college. He’s pretty much my only non-punk rock friend. By which I just mean that he’s my only friend that didn’t at least grow up in the punk scene – he’s my only friend that’s not connected to that world at all. He’s married, he has a mortgage, an advanced degree, and he just got a promotion at work. He’s well-adjusted (relatively speaking). When we were in school together, I was always cynical and angry and just chock full o’ nihilism, gloom, and doom. As much as he enjoyed that comedy (because it was so over-the-top as to be parodical) he’d try to get me to see the bright side and not be such a miserable little shit all the time. Tonight he sent me a text to ask how I was doing. “Great! Working on a huge painting right now. How are you?” His response was a little less enthusiastic so I called him.

He’s bored with work, with life. He doesn’t get to spend his time doing the things that he likes to do. Years ago, on the occasions when he was feeling a little less cheery about the world, I couldn’t offer him anything but commiseration (and maybe some I-told-you-sos). But tonight we talked for a little over an hour and (at the risk of being presumptuous) I’d like to think that I was actually able to help him feel a little better. Together, we came up with an idea. A change he could make to free up more of his time so that he can get a little more enjoyment out of this whole “being alive” thing.  I don’t know if it’ll necessarily turn out to be the right thing, but that’s not really the point.

I’ve gone over this before but… fuck what the world wants you to do. I don’t have a job, I don’t own a home, and I run around this city looking like Mowgli from the Disney Jungle Book. He asked me what am I gonna do if something falls into my lap that I can’t handle, that I can’t afford. We went back and forth for a while over different hypotheticals, discussing different outcomes for different problems but the “what if”s kept coming. Finally, I came up with an answer that satisfied him. “I don’t know what I’d do. But none of that stuff has happened. I have everything that I need today. If something changes tomorrow, then I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I don’t live in fear or with anxiety over what might happen. I live for today and – today – I’m happy.” He liked that. Whatever it is that he needs to change, I hope he figures it out and follows through. He deserves to be happy and it’s not outside of his reach. (The same can be said of just about everyone).

Speaking of Zack (um… like, nine paragraphs ago). He told me last week that my worldview is  (are you ready?) a little immature! (Unbelievable, right?!?)

If that is at all true though, it’s at least partially his fault.

“Do what you really wanna do. Don’t fucking ‘yes, sir’ through your whole life like a fool, kid. I hope you don’t really need the lies. Don’t fucking waste your time with the world always dragging you down.”


Carbondale tonight!

Running late on our way to Carbondale. The show tonight is with Future Virgins, The Heat Tape, and Hate Waves. 9 pm at Ski Haus. I think.

Traded art with Evan Wolff last night. I’m afraid to hang his print in my living room ’cause more people will comment on how cool it is than any of my things that hang in there. I might have to put it in the bedroom. Then again, it could be good for me. I can always use a little more humility. I also started a trade with Brett Hunter. He took my “I Don’t Go Out Much” cartoon and is gonna bring me something in trade for it tonight, so i’m really excited for that now too. (Show+trade with Brett+pizza place Zack’s talking about=high hopes for Carbondale). Punk rock is still awesome.

The van is shaky and I’m unusually tired, but I have a new piece to share later. It’s been a strange morning. We almost had to sacrifice a body to the tour monsters and – since the band is kind of necessary to the whole playing shows thing – it would’ve been either Zack or I. We were both willing to do whatever, but things shook out in such a way that we’re both still here.

When I’m not driving, I tend to sit in back, but I’m riding shotgun right now with Chris driving. It’s not too hot out, we’re listening to Ramshackle Glory singing, “I always wanted to die young, now I feel younger every day,” and life is kinda nice.

20130819-170855.jpg


Out All Day

I sold a lot of my stuff online today. Some leftover distro stock, but a lot of personal stuff too. Tonight, I borrowed Heather’s car to scrounge up cardboard boxes to ship these things in. At the gas station where I found most of my cardboard, I also found a couple. Homeless, fucked up. Not totally unlike me a year or so ago. They wanted money and I told them I had none. I gave them a couple cigarettes and used my food stamps to get them something to drink. They wanted a ride and I told them that it wasn’t my car. They had a pretty great sob story about why they couldn’t walk. I told them I’ve fucked up too many things in my life. That I was sorry, but I can’t give strangers a ride in a car that I’ve been trusted to borrow.  I can’t take any risks.

It was sad and it sucks but it’s also [whatever]. It just is. And it’s not a big deal. But I’m proud of myself for saying “no” and for being honest about the reason why.

“Out All Day.” 6/18/13. Marker and pen on canvas board. 8x10".
“Out All Day.” 6/18/13. Marker and pen on canvas board. 8×10″.

Says, “I was out all day. No one told me I had paint in my hair ’til 11 pm. I had a shirt with me in case I went to the library. I couldn’t be happier.”

This was only my second piece done entirely with markers. My first was “Powerless Over Flexeril,” but since then I’ve done more. While on tour, I made “Lost in St. Louis” and “Fear is Killing Me” and more recently I made “Still Sick,” one of my largest pieces to date.

A couple hours before I made this, someone told me they liked my outfit and I thought they were making fun of me ’cause I barely wear any clothes. She was serious though. It made me think about how I really like the fact that I have the sort of life that rarely requires a shirt (and even more rarely requires a shirt with sleeves or a collar). I like the fact that I have the sort of life where I can have paint on my hands, on my arms, my face, and my hair, and – not only is it not an issue or a problem but – it’s not even something that anybody comments on.

As anyone that saw my painting from last night (“Blueprint For a Successful Evening“) can probably guess, things were a little off when I got up this morning. But I went about my day, did my own thing, didn’t stress about it, and everything worked out perfectly.
I’ve said it before, but it’s still true – so long as I’m cool, so is everything else.

By the way, it’s not easy leaving white space on the canvas. So – you know – be REALLY impressed by that AMAZING feat.

(This next part – don’t get me wrong: I’m not majorly bumming out or anything like that but) I am feeling just a little bit sorry for myself tonight. Or I was earlier today anyway. With all the traffic to my webstore today (people buying records and books) I’d have thought that I’d have sold at least a little bit of my artwork. But I didn’t. I can think of a lot of reasons for that (some are a little more disconcerting than others) but like the couple I met tonight at the gas station, the reasons don’t really matter. It just is how it is. And my life is still pretty excellent. And I need to remember to be grateful for that. I need to focus on all of the good things. Lucky for me, there are a lot of them so it’s not all that difficult.

And if there’s something in my life that I’d like to be different, then I need to be bold. And brave. I need to take healthy risks and I need to take responsibility for actually making change happen. I don’t just get to have the life I want. I have to be the person I want to be and do the things that… that I need to do. I have to work at it. Whatever [it] might be.

—–

Signed and numbered 9×11¼” prints of “Out All Day” are available in my webstore. The original sold in November 2013.