I woke up an hour before the alarm went off this morning.  I laid in bed trying to shut off the dialog looping in my head.  The setting full moon illuminated the room.  I rolled over and latched on to Ray just as the kitty hopped up on the bed.  The white noise machine whirred away in the distance.  I savored that moment.  I felt safe — a feeling I have not had for a while.

The past few weeks have been troubling.  Both my parents have been ill.  Mother was in the hospital for a bit but she’s home now.  Sadly, my father is really starting to slow down with his cancer.  The doctors recently gave him a finite “months to live” period.  I’m going back to DC to see him next week.  This has been a very difficult period for me and my family.  It’s really hard to look into my father’s eyes.  They’re dimming as if part of him is slipping away.

Lately, I feel like a peeled nerve.  Every emotion is throbbing with amplification.  I was talking to my dad the other day and he told me his estranged brother called.  They have not spoken in years.  My dad said to him, “So…what are you doing?” and his brother replied, “I’m sitting in your driveway.”

My uncle lives in the Pacific Northwest.  Dad is in DC.  After all those years, he just showed up.  It made me cry.

Fuck! Everything makes me cry these days.  The worst part is the fact that I am doing an original monologue for Bisbee’s Obscure Productions Annual Comedy Show called No Shenanigans this *weekend.  I’m just not feeling very funny right now.  It’s been very difficult to write.  The piece is good but there’s room for improvement.  I tried to refine the material, make it better but I just have this sinking feeing in my gut.  I don’t have the energy to focus on making others laugh when all I want to do is sulk.  If you do see it, just laugh.  I don’t mind the “courtesy laugh”.  At this point, I’ll take all the laughter I can get.

Doing this show is part of my new “What The Hell Have I Got To Lose?” philosophy.  I have always dreamed of being an actor/performer/singer/songwriter/writer/photographer/dancer kind of person.  With my father’s declining health as a reminder that life is indeed fleeting, I have been challenging myself to get out there and do it.  Express yourself!  I’ll be damned if I’m just going to sit around wondering what if…

Last month, my friend told me that Oprah was having a Karaoke Challenge.  I recorded an audition video and submitted it.  I found out this week that I didn’t make the cut.  It surprised me. I actually thought I might have had a chance but I guess I was wrong.  The important thing is that I tried and trying is all that matters — seriously.  Even though I didn’t even get close to the finals, I tried and, as dorky as it sounds, that makes me a winner.

I’m not very religious but I believe in the power of prayer (collective positive thoughts if you will).  Favor? Just shut your eyes for a sec and think of my mom and dad.  Send them some good vibes will ya?

For your viewing pleasure I have included my audition for the Karaoke Challenge.  It ends abruptly because it had to be under two minutes. I’m going to dedicate this little performance to my dad (I would dedicate the song itself but once you hear the lyrics, it would be kind of creepy).

*Playing at 7:30 p.m. on November 6 & 7 and at 3:00 p.m. on November 8.  Central School Project, 43 Howell Ave. in Old Bisbee.

5 Thoughts on “Meh

  1. Cobban,

    we are so sorry to hear about your dad. You and your family are in our thoughts.

    A warm and hearfelt hug,
    Jim and George

  2. Marie on 04/11/2009 at 9:44 AM said:

    Omg, this is awesome (the karaoke, not your dad). Sorry to hear about your dad 🙁

    Keep singing!


  3. *Sending you and your family some positive vibes*

    Hang in there, Cobban.

  4. Thank you Jim! I appreciate the thoughts. Going there tomorrow.

  5. Cobban –

    I LOVE your writing! But, I am so very sorry you are going through such intensity right now. I know it’s hard to smile & laugh while a very essential part of your world is falling apart. I lost my boyfriend and my mother within 6 months of one another several years back – and both had suffered for a while. It changes you. Amazingly (with support, which you have an abundance of), you will pull through. Meanwhile, lean on me (and all of us) as much as you want as you walk this strange road.

    Much love, Charlene

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