December 4, 2014 scottcjones 21Comments

When you go through something like the fairly awful something that I’ve been through this year, on the far side there’s this feeling that you will somehow eventually be able to completely reinvent yourself. You’ll arrive at a moment when you’ll be able to pave over the old, marginally successful life, which is what I had, and start living the nonstop mardi gras that your life was always supposed to be. I saw hyperbolic headlines like STROKE BOY MAKES AMAZING RECOVERY and MIRACLE STROKE BOY KICKS ASS, TAKES NAMES. I’m not sure why I referred to myself as “STROKE BOY.” I suppose it sounds more lighthearted and less pathetic than “MIDDLE-AGED STROKE MAN.”

Then you get there, you finally arrive, and you start to understand that that’s not what’s going to happen at all. It’s like you go on this long, tiresome journey, a journey that you were sure was going to forever alter the course of your life should you survive it, only to arrive back in the bedroom of your childhood home. Life on the far side, it seems, is still uphill; more things will still go wrong than go right. Sure, there’s the good stuff, like ice cream and cats and video games, but there’s also plenty of unpleasantness like taxes, and litter boxes in need of scooping, and miserable Christmas shopping that you don’t feel like doing.

I had the excited feeling the whole time I was an in-patient at G.F. Strong. I’d wake up in the mornings and sip the weak rehab coffee in my room (breakfast, for some reason, was always served in your room) and I’d make notes in a notebook. I liked my chances going forward. I felt optimistic and confident. I felt like good things, a.k.a. more of the right things, were going to happen for me.

December is the ninth month of my recovery. The year is winding down, and all I can see, for some reason, is how little I’ve accomplished. Hell, I haven’t even had the guts to write for the last couple months. I pushed like a madman for awhile, really trying to make the most out of my “comeback.” I went back to work on a part-time basis and threw myself into everything. And I really pushed myself into my writing, too. I had lofty ambitions for myself that I was sure would come true if only I routinely applied myself. I wrote to a literary agent, officially beginning what I thought was my journey towards some kind of book deal. I openly spoke about trying to do more selfless things in my life, like nursing or therapy or charity work.

I didn’t hear back at all from the agent. I’d initially planned on contacting more agents, then instead decided to spend my energy feeling bad about the one I didn’t hear back from. I figured I was too much of a pussy to make a complicated thing like a book deal happen. And all my nursing/charity work plans started to seem so silly and insincere to me.

Then—and this is seriously dangerous—I began to focus only of the ways that I’m different now. Thanks to this, I felt tired and depressed all the time. Instead of trying to rouse myself, instead of trying to write something with my still-recovering brain, I’d say “Ah, the hell with everything” and take a nap on the couch.

I blamed my damaged cerebrum, and all the things I’d endured because of my damaged cerebrum, for the things that I wasn’t doing in my life.

Then, to make matters worse, my website started disintegrating for some unknown reason. Each time I tried to add more writing, I’d get oddball error messages. I phoned Yahoo’s customer service department, which is apparently located in the nether regions of India, to try to rectify things. It was, not surprisingly, futile. A few days ago, I began to get overwhelmed with spam in the “comments” section of my broken website. I have no idea why this has happened, either. I’d try calling Yahoo India again but I know that’ll likely only waste 45 minutes of my day.

So here I am in December. Trying to feel good about my year. Trying to finish strong and stay calm and invest in my writing again.

Trying to keep things simple.

*

Some magical jewelry arrived in the mail for me a couple days ago. These “jewels” are magical because they are designed to save my life. Of course, these are no ordinary pieces of costume jewelry. They are Medic Alert I.D. tags.

You read that correctly—I wear Medic Alert I.D. tags now. I’m supposed to wear these things for the rest of my life. Should I ever be injured and rendered unconscious, the tags will ostensibly inform the attending doctors or paramedics that I have a mechanical heart valve in my chest and that I am on blood thinner. Which are two things that doctors and paramedics should probably know before they start doing anything to me.

I’m not a jewelry guy. Never have been, really. Though, I confess, there was an unfortunate class-ring stretch when I was a high school senior. And there was a cheap department store necklace that my first girlfriend gave me in the 9th grade (she was Italian and I guess that’s what Italian girls generally do for their 9th grade boyfriends). The necklace, like all 9th-grade relationships, eventually turned green. And there was an embarrassing earring stretch in graduate school. I was in the poetry program so everyone had earrings, I swear! But other than these lone exceptions, which I realize sound fairly significant now that I see them all together, I have largely given jewelry a wide berth in my life.

Now, thanks to my medical condition, and thanks to Medic Alert, I will always wear either a cheap nylon bracelet on my wrist (“Active & Sporty!”; item #209) or a cheap military-style dog tag (“Hip and trendy”; item #106) around my neck.

I groaned when my heart doctor first recommended the Medic Alert tags to me. I thought she was kidding. She assured me that she was not. I asked her how in the world I was supposed to meet women—women were all I thought about then—with a Frankenstein scar on my chest and a Medic Alert tag on my person. She informed me, as all my female friends have informed me, that women will actually love it. “Women want someone who needs them, someone who needs healing, and someone they can care for,” the women in my life have told me.

Women, it seems, adore vulnerable men.

I’m still not so sure about this. I’m wearing my Medic Alert I.D. tags on a daily basis now. Wherever I go, whatever I’m doing, I’ve got one on me at all times. You see me walking down Robson Street en route to London Drugs? There’s a Medic Alert tag around my neck or on my wrist. It’s only been a couple of days but so far, no results. I’ll keep you posted should I somehow manage to seduce any ladies thanks to my magic jewelry.

21 thoughts on “UPDATE: I LOOK GREAT IN MY MAGIC JEWELRY

  1. Don’t give up on your publishing aspirations. The publishing industry is incredibly fickle these days. Actually, every industry that deals with intellectual property is more fickle than ever. I know what its like to pump yourself up only to be rejected… not even rejected…. worse, ignored. It takes the wind out of your sails. But, still its just one assface guy on the other end who, for whatever reason, isn’t moved. There are other avenues and methods and, lucky for you, you’re not a complete unknown. To use a shitty business term, you need to ‘leverage’ your talents and your experience.

    You have ‘fans’ who will read anything you write. That’s a given. Beyond that, what’s your greatest commodity (why am I talking like a douchebag business guy so much)? You’ve been around the game industry for about as long as you can be and are still relevant, and you’re a writer. There must be a bunch of general interest stories you can tell, alongside your personal stories, that follow the history of gaming as well as your history within it. I’d love to pick up a book about a guy coming of age in the early days of gaming, growing up in life along with consoles and gaming. I know SNES was the console you played in college. Setting that up as the gaming backdrop behind that insecure dead-poets society kid with an earing you were would be just one slice of that. Come on man i’m sure you have tons to say. Those weird old early millenial E3 parties and meeting industry legends, the recent down-turn in the industry set against your own personal challenges… the story is pretty much all there you just have to write it. I say write it and forget about what’s on the other side.

    Years ago I was writing an album. All by myself, I holed up in my basement apartment and wrote 16 tracks. I played every instrument, recorded it, sang and wrote the lyrics. It took me years and It was my digital opus. I had no idea where it would go. Near the end, I got in touch with a record exec from the label I dreamt of being on for 8 years, when I started my journey into music making. Somehow by a weird happenstance (a coworker at a shitty office-job of mine just happened to play keyboards in the band “Ministry” in the 90’s and sent it to his friend who owned this record company…) blah blah, anyways this record guy hears my demo, loves it and asks for a full album. I almost kill myself finishing this thing and a year later I send it out to him. I wait weeks. No reply. “What the fuck”… I call him and sure enough he got it and heard it. He starts saying how he’s been forced to change the types of acts he signs because of shrinking profit margins within the genre and particularly niche musical space his label has been dealing with… so basically “sorry, but screw you its not going to happen”. And that was that, I never really tried to get signed on another label. I was totally out of gas. Meanwhile, i’m seeing relatively talentless peers get record deals because A) they have mastered to art of believing their own self-promotion and hype and B) practiced the time-honored tradition of showing up with a bag of drugs at douchey parties with douchey musician types (careerists, really) who just want to get a leg up.

    Why am i telling you this? I’m basically saying to hell with everyone and do what you do best. You’re probably not the type to walk into a gathering of mover’s and shaker’s, flash a million-dollar smile and charm them into propelling your dreams through cronyism or being part of the bullshit cycle of self-serving careerist assholes. No, you come from the more talent-oriented side. You prefer to let your work speak for itself. Yes, surprisingly, that side is the one that has the hardest time. But you have to do it. You have to get it out of you and put it out in the world, wherever it may end up. I’m glad I did everything I did even if its just scattered on a few hard-drives and the dustbin of history. Maybe its stupid and naive of me, but I feel better about myself that I actually did it, rather than took the easy route and declared defeat without trying. Look at your pal Vic. I’m sure that guy has had to eat shit over and over again but he comes right back around with his cheery disposition (annoying at times, I’m sure!) but try to stay somewhere in the middle. Do what you do. You WILL be proud of it. Yes, time is not infinite – you have to use it wisely – but it would be a far greater waste if you spent it ignoring your talents for fear of how its received on the other end. Putting things off for fear of failure, fear that you aren’t good enough, its just wasting time and ignoring a big part of why you may be unhappy. You are a writer, you need to write. If you ever had a story in you, this is the one. And for chrissake take people’s help when the offer it! My 2 cents.

    1. I very much DO prefer to let the work speak for itself. Also: my smile is not worth a million dollars. It’s only worth about $79.49. 🙁

      Thanks for your excellent story and excellent advice, Steven.

  2. Dear Scott, Welcome to your “Year on the Couch”; meh, it happens to most 40 somethings and some of us don’t have good excuses such as yours.

    I have been rooting for you all this time and delighted to find that you are well. I don’t have any good advice to offer you – such as Happiness is a destination – you have hit the meadow at the mountain… blah blah blah. I only know that you have to keep moving, when you don’t you stop living. You have had a pretty enviable life to date.

    Keep up the writing. You are good at it.

    1. I feel so much better about my life when I think of this as THE YEAR OF THE COUCH. Maybe I’ll call 2015 THE YEAR OF THE COUCH as well.

      Yes, I like it that much.

  3. Well, Steven has the right idea! I can’t wait to see your jewelry! Maybe the Pandora bracelet people will come out with a man’s version. Really , this comment is only to say how much I love you!!

    1. Bonney, I thought I’d BANNED you from the site! JUST KIDDING. I love hearing from you, as always. ALSO: Listen to Bonney’s excellent show, Mom On Pop, on The A.V. Club. It’s so great.

  4. That agent knows nothing. Anyone who has read your work or seen you on TV (including people who are not gamers (trust me, I’m related to at least one)) would buy a book by you in a heartbeat.

  5. Also Seasonal Vancouver Blues Disorder. Me and My wife get it every year. It’s so dark/cold and miserable here in the winter. You have to go south for a while (Mexico) or be self aware of it and fight back against it or it’ll take you down to low places you would rather not go. IMO.

  6. Where to begin? Well, I’ve never gone through what you have, but I’ve gone through other things. That “jewelry” is not magical at all. Your actual life is though. Yeah, it’s been a fucked up, bizarre year, but magic can fall in your lap without you even looking for it. Take it from me ; )

    P.S. SELF-PUBLISH!

  7. This post spoke to me and my experiences on such a profound level. While I did not go through as much of an ordeal as you, I too faced a potentially life-threatening illness last year. I was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma in Sept. 2013 and was declared “in remission” in early March of this year. I too have wrestled with the whole “I’m going to conquer the world when I get through this shit” feeling and just continually disappoint myself with my general apathy and laziness. I got hit with this crap at a really bad time (not that there’s ever a good time) as I had only graduated university 4 months before my diagnosis. I’ve always been a self-doubter but the feeling is much more pronounced now. Everyone close to me assures me that things will be ok and that I did an amazing thing by beating cancer…but it really just feels like I had 7 months of my life stolen from me and that I’m not 7 months behind in figuring my life out.

    Your writing has been a continuous source of inspiration for me. Please keep it up. I hope one day to have even a fraction of your success.

    Your pal, Nick

    1. Nick, really glad you’re feeling better. Thanks for sharing your story. Hope you continue to stay healthy and strong. Have you and I met before? Your name seems familiar!

      1. Hi Scott,

        Yes we have met before – Fan Expo 2012! You and Vic signed my copy of Batman Arkham City. I also follow you on Twitter. Again, keep strong and thanks for all your great work.

        Nick

  8. No matter how many people sing your praises, and no matter how much outside support you get – that upward climb out of any sort of life funk or artistic funk is done alone. The only thing you can do is force one foot in front of the other and not give up. There is no easy way out of life’s big struggles – but that is our human condition right? Regardless – I think it’s brave and ballsy to lay it out for others to know. Take heart – you’ll move past this in time.

  9. We would buy your book. Probably buy two copies even. (Definitely buy two copies). Only a very, very talented writer could transform what you have been through this year into something so funny and poignant. We love your work. So don’t stop. People (many, many) want to hear what you have to say (and say so entertainingly). You have tons of fans out there. We meet people all the time who love you just as much as we do.

  10. When my bf was 19, his heart stopped, in the middle of our politics final exam in high school. Our principal and vice principal performed CPR on him until the paramedics showed up where they eventually defibrillated him multiple times (apparently more times than is customarily done, simply because he was 19 and they refused to give up) he was clinically dead for 6 minutes. He spent two weeks in a medically induced coma, then about a month in the heart institute here in ottawa, where after a battery of tests, doctors determined he had idiopathic ventricular fibrillation. Whih basically means his heart beats ridiulously sometimes and they can’t figure out why. He had an internal defibrillator placed, which had to be replaced a little over a year later because components of it were recalled. Last year (10 years later) one of the little wires going from his box to his heart broke, which caused the box to malfunction and defibrillate him for no reason. Apparently this hurts. Because of how long that particular box has been in his chest, and the set of wires that were left in from when the original box was replaced, they had to rewire everything.. On the opposite side of his chest. He now has three strange little scars on his chest, and a hollow sounding metal box on the right side. There is nothing wrong with scars :p.. It’s a story to tell and believe me, he loves to blather on Bout them if ppl happen to see them. He was definitely self conscious at first but eventually got over it 🙂

  11. Hi Scott,

    I’ve been a fan of your writings and watching you on RotR for a few years now.

    All i can say is, don’t let the scars and medical bracelets hinder you from meeting potential partners. If anything, they can be a great ice breaker on first dates! Women love a bit of intrigue in their men. And they appreciate it when men show some vulnerability; it makes you human.

  12. Hi Scott! I dont know you, dont know how you live on a day to day basis but I do know this. You have fans, friends and people all around you that love you and care for you everyday. Keep your head up and embrace this second chance at life that was given to you. It is true about women though, we always want someone to care for as we ourselves want the same thing. You are a smart, handsome successful man that one day will meet the woman of your dreams.
    Take care
    Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!!!

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