Monday, August 26, 2019

Why Asperger's can be good (sometimes)... aka... eliminating wasted energy through routines...

What week is it? I think I missed last week, unless I didn't... Turns out when you don’t have a normal “day job” days are less defined by dates/days and more defined by events. Monday? Nope, day I have an audition at such-and-such. Tuesday? Not really, more like the day I have a couple meetings about podcast producing and have to put together sets for Friday’s show. Thursday? Oh, you mean the day I edit podcasts until I crash and fall asleep at 10pm (a.k.a. very early for me). You get the point. So, I (don’t) apologize if I missed a week. Also, I’m working on about three hours sleep, so forgive any errors, poor sentence structures, words that are… I don’t know, bad. You get it, right?

But this week, I’d like to talk about Asperger’s and how it can actually be a positive, especially for self-employed people who have to make lots of decisions daily that may impact their livelihood. Look, we all know making decisions, especially ones that could affect our income, is hard. Decision fatigue is a real thing. Sometimes we just want someone to tell us what to do. That’s the charm of a “day job.”

In a former life, I used to work at a paint store. It was kinda shitty, but paid enough to cover my expenses and worked well for me at the time. I would get up, ride the bus to work, people would tell me what they want and I would make it for them. Sounds simple, right? It was, mostly. It was the perfect job for a young, often hungover musician who stayed out way too late, and since he was just starting out, was often playing during weekday nights. I doubt an accounting firm would deal with me strolling in, unkempt and unshowered, with long hair and my dirty, paint covered clothes. OK, that last one was because of the job, but you get the idea. It was nice to not have to put together business plans, look at the 50-60 hours I would be working that week and start from scratch on how to fill them, wake up at 6am to go to local networking meetings (I do enjoy meeting my fellow small business owners, just not the 6am part…), and so on and so forth. I liked having someone tell me to stop and go eat lunch (which I often skip nowadays, though not intentionally). Even the clothes/uniform I had to wear was dictated to me.

Which brings me to my point: Asperger’s now helps me with some of this. I, like many with Asperger’s/Autism, am very into routines. You could say I love routines. Or, more accurately, that I need routines. LIKE I MENTIONED A FEW WEEKS AGO, I am a creature of habit. But, because of that, there are many little decisions I don’t have to make during a given day/week which helps me focus more energy on the bigger decisions and getting real work done. I’ll give you a few.

For instance, I eat the same thing every day for lunch (when I actually stop to eat it): 2 fried eggs, shredded roasted chicken (I get a whole chicken every Wednesday and Sunday since it’s $2 cheaper at my local Harris Teeter those days) and spinach, divided up between three corn tortillas (always from Mission, my favorite tortillas and chips in the world) and topped with salsa verde. It’s delicious, nutritious and I never have to think or waste time/energy on lunch. I am usually thinking about the second third of my day (the first third, 9am-1pm, is generally office/computer work, the second, 1-5pm, is usually meetings or podcast-related work, depending on the day, and the third, 6pm-12am, is going to shows/playing shows/general musician stuff) while cooking. Or, I’m thinking about a new song idea. Or, who I should follow up for booking shows. Again, not thinking about what I’m doing (cooking), but thinking about other business things that are more beneficial to me.

Same goes for clothes. I hate wasting time thinking about what to wear. Instead, I have two pairs of jeans, one nicer pair for when I wear dress shirts/jackets, and one pair for when I wear t-shirts. My dress shirts and t-shirts rotate. Whenever I wear/wash one, it goes to the bottom of the pile. I simply determine if this is a nice-pair-of-jeans event (show, fancy dinner, date or business meeting) or normal-pair-of-jeans event (pretty much everything else) and grab from the top of the appropriate pile of shirts. Done. Simple. My boots go with everything.

Same goes for scheduling. Mondays is all music, all day. Music emails/computer work/blog in the morning (sometimes this blog is late night fodder to keep it interesting), meetings and venue scouting/pitching/in-person follow-up in the afternoon, open mic at the Evening Muse at night. Wednesday is similarly set up. Tuesday and Thursdays are for office work, business planning and podcast-related work. Saturdays I try to set aside time to meet with friends and for brainstorming with my wife. Shows are the wild-card. Those could be any night of the week, but that’s why I schedule days but not my nights. Sundays are for cleaning the apartment and relaxing. I usually cook big dinners Thursdays and Sundays to give us leftovers for Friday and Monday, as I’m usually busy those evenings so I need something done up so my wife has something substantial to eat for dinner.

Which is another case in point, she works way harder and way more than me. She also makes more money and is much more successful than me (probably because she’s also much smarter than me). But, because of that, she has no capacity for normal life decisions like shopping or cooking, as she can't decide what/when/how she wants to make something. Her brain is fried from the hundreds of decisions/tasks she does every day. I’ve seen her have decision fatigue on what to wear. She factors in what we’re doing, who we’re meeting, where that’s going to be, will there be air conditioning on (she’s always cold), will she be mostly sitting or standing, will she be taking photos for social media, etc., etc. And she’s right to do that. She is the face of her business and has to present as such, and she should be comfortable. I’ve also seen her skip lunch because she couldn’t figure out what to make. She was just so exhausted from working/making decisions that one more decision just wasn’t going to happen.

The other benefit of Aspergian routines, is that it takes the fear/anxiety/dread out of tough decisions or actions. Don’t want to spend the day in a new town introducing your music to new people/venues trying to get booked? Too bad, that’s what you do on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. Don’t want to step in front of 100 people and pitch your music and podcast businesses? Too bad, that’s what you do on Wednesday mornings. (For the record, I love anytime a room full of people have to listen to me talk, or play. But, I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Waking up before 8am is the hardest part for me.) Hate sitting in front of a computer sending out follow up emails and tracking those in an excel spreadsheet? Me too, but that’s what I do most Wednesday and Friday afternoons.

Unfortunately, eating the same things every day doesn’t work for most people. Wearing the same things over and over doesn’t work for most people. Most people like to choose their clothes and dress up. Most businesses don’t allow for doing the same things on the same days. I get it. But, all of this is to say, sometimes having Asperger’s is pretty damn awesome. It’s not when my wife is mad at me for reacting emotionally inappropriately to something or someone, but it can be for helping keep my brain free from clutter and away from spending energy making insignificant decisions.

(dictated but not read)

Monday, August 12, 2019

Titles are hard... aka... no they're not, I'm just tired and kinda drunk... Top 7 random songs I'm listening to tonight

So, as I sit here sipping my Evan Williams Bonded (being a musician doesn’t often afford you the good stuff, so this is the best I can do for now. Which, all things considered, Evan Williams White Label is a pretty damn good $12 bourbon) after a long night of music at the Evening Muse (read: it’s late. Like 1am right now), I have the urge to drink and listen to some really random music that’s still on my iTunes from like fucking sixth grade until I fall asleep on the couch, then drag my dead-ass tired butt to bed. Some people call these guilty pleasures, but I’m not ashamed to say I love a single one, so I guess they’re just “random pleasures.” Which sounds like a sex toy shop. Anyways, since I had to write a blog anyways, let’s do this together.

Now, to be sure, I am not ashamed of liking any of these tunes. Some of them I play personally when I’m drunk (but not too drunk to forget the chords or the lyrics) or add to party playlists to see if the room is as cool as I am (they rarely are) with some really random shit. I’m not totally sure where this may go, but I’ll at least get you started on my first five or so tunes. Fuck it, let’s go!

1) “You Only Get What You Give” - New Radicals

This is often a jumping off point for me on nights like this. I fucking love this song. I may have posted about how much I love this song and the weird, mall-inspired music video but I cannot contain how much this song makes me feel good. That sentence doesn’t really make sense but you get the point. Bonus points to the guy for having a massive hit, realizing he hated the music industry (in ‘98 or ‘99 no less, when they were still at least investing in artists…), getting sick of being asked to write “You Only Get What You Give,” the sequel and quitting while he was ahead. Not everyone wants to be Smash Mouth…

2) “My Favourite Game” - The Cardigans

I know I’ve posted this before sometime, but who gives a shit. This is about what I’m listening to tonight and this is currently on. There’s a lot of pressure to say something profound in the four minutes before a new song song starts. I have nothing like that to say now. So, I’ll just remind everyone that I found this song via Gran Tourismo 2 for the original Playstation. My buddy and I would stay up all night playing it so we’d inevitably hear this song more than a few times. I might love it via Stockholm Syndrome but either way, it’s on and I’m singing along (quietly, as it’s 1:08am currently). Speaking of video games, if you want a truly scary experience, play the original Silent Hill video game with the sound off and Jimi Hendrix’s “Electric Ladyland” playing in the background. Maybe we were just beyond exhaustion but that was a truly terrifying experience. Without the game sounds, everything scared us twice as bad as it should have. Why am I talking about video games? Damn you, Cardigans!

3) “Give It Away” - The Red Hot Chili Peppers

“What I got you gotta give it to your mama…” “What I got you got to get it put it in you…” Yep, those are both in the first verse so you know what you’re getting yourself into with this one. Man, RHCP used to be so weird and badass. The video, just fucking weird… I was such a huge fan of these guys. I owned every record (thank you BMG music group! 12 for the price of 1, cancel membership, rinse and repeat!) and played the shit out of them. I wanted to be John Frusciante, minus the heroin addiction, of course. It’s weird, I always wanted to be a singer but since I had no natural talent for it, I wanted desperately to be a bluesy-funky-rock guitar player. And I was until I ran out of people to play with and found it was easier to be on my own. I had started writing songs when I was 17 but they were fucking terrible and stayed that way until I was, what, maybe 22 or 23. But what magical life insights is a 19 year old supposed to have. I had decent tunes, but the lyrics were shit and made no sense. Plus, at the time I was obsessed with Bob Dylan, so everything was so esoteric, or standard folk fare. Topics included John the Baptist, saints, poets with bells in their shoes, fortune teller’s maids, princes and paupers, trains, but most of all, ramblin’. Why are we talking about this? My train of thought has rambled on… Ha!

4) “Killing in the Name” - Rage Against the Machine

If this isn’t one of the greatest songs ever, I don’t know what is. Needless to say, 12 year old Bradley was very righteous and angry. This was right around the time of the George W. and Al Gore presidential race, then came the unjustified war with Iraq after 9/11 and the first time I was hearing about what the police were doing to black people across the country via Dave Chappelle’s HBO comedy special “Killing Them Softly.” I got a subscription to TIME magazine shortly thereafter to start to learn about these things. Shortly thereafter, I realized TIME magazine was kinda bullshit (Bob Dylan was right in “Don’t Look Back”). But, most of all, when you’re 12 and someone is shouting “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” you’re going to fall in love, hard… But, even after all that, I still had to be talked out of joining the military when I graduated High School. I was so impacted by 9/11 (like so many others) that I felt I had to enlist. But, by the time I could, the war was long over and everyone had already realized it was kind of a mistake (read: huge clusterfuck). So, I slowly changed my mind back to becoming a Rock Star, which I am, but the just a barely scraping by kind of Rock Star. I’d like to drink Woodford Reserve but I’m an Evan Williams level star…

5) “Father of Mine” - Everclear

This song still makes me bleary eyed. Not teary, but bleary for sure. There was a time when I thought Art Alexakis was writing songs just for me. “Father of Mine” and “I Will Buy You a New Life” sounded just like this poor, small-town boy who never really knew his dad/drug addict/abusive/compulsive liar/hopefully dead person and who grew up on bologna sandwiches and Hamburger Helper. I have to say though, I feel sort of blessed to grow up in the time and place and how I did. There was lots of love from my mother and sister (and eventually, my brother) and I learned to not need much beyond that. It’s a good lesson for those trying to make a career out of music or anyone who feels like they are missing out because of a lack of money. It also makes it easier to appreciate the things I do have and that I have the ability to make music for a living. 12 year old Bradley never would have dreamed of making records, hearing those records on the radio and playing hundreds of shows to people who like his music. 12 year old Bradley couldn’t know the sense of honor and pride he would feel when a soldier returning from a tour of duty would tell him his music helped him, a true American hero, make it through the tough times. 12 year old Bradley couldn’t imagine how cool it would be to jump into the crowd and dance with a group of deaf people who liked the way his music made them feel so much they came to his rock n’ roll show to let loose and have a good time. Sometimes poor, rural kids can do great things, even if it doesn’t mean making tons of money. Money can’t buy those things. But I feel I appreciate them more because of how I was raised…

Wow, I’m way off topic now. But, there’s a line in “I Will Buy You a New Life” that goes “they have never been poor, they have never had the joy of a welfare Christmas” that always kills me. One of my favorite Christmas memories was the year we didn’t have much after moving to Horicon, WI (Marshmen for life! Just kidding…) and my sister and I made a board game as a family Christmas present. It was called “Race to the Presents” I think. I got a Bible with my name on it, which is one of the few things I’ve kept with me through all the moves over the years. Playing our homemade board game and cracking open that Bible for the first time are memories I will never forget. Store bought gifts come and go, but there’s an undeniable beauty in appreciating the things that matter so much more.

6) “My Own Prison” - Creed

I know what you’re thinking, “How the fuck can anyone listen to fucking Creed? Seriously, Bradley, fucking Creed?! Really?!” Well, let me explain. I had a friend growing up whose father was a pastor. He wasn’t allowed to listen to most music as it was the work of the devil. I vividly remember him telling me, once I had started playing music, that any music that wasn’t in praise of God (or Jesus, if that’s your bag) was the devil’s work. I can never erase the memory of him playing Pearl Jam’s cover of “Last Kiss” and basing a whole sermon on how it was poison for people and a great example of what music shouldn’t be. What the fuck?! At least use the Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers version for christ’s sake. Don’t blame Pearl Jam for a cover song they recorded for a fucking benefit CD for refugees. But, he did allow anything that was so-called “christian” so Third Eye Blind and Creed were OK. So, we spent a lot of time listening to that first Creed record and I learned to like it since it was the best we could do. Although, it is funny to note that when his parents would leave, we would instantly put on Dio’s “Holy Diver” album and blast it as loud as we wanted to; there was nothing but cornfields surrounding his house and sing along to every word. Not exactly christian music, but tell a teenager he can’t do something and he’ll probably do it the most extreme version possible…
OK, we can’t end on a fucking Creed song, so one more.

7) “Don’t Cry” - Guns N’ Roses

Setting apart the fact that the video is quite sexist and sometimes hard to watch, and that Axl has sang/said some pretty racist shit, this song murders. Guns N’ Roses was so fucking good. I was watching a David Bowie documentary earlier tonight and it’s amazing how many songs he released before finally having a hit. Guns N’ Roses started with fucking “Appetite for Destruction” (“Paradise City,” “Welcome to the Jungle” and fucking “Sweet Child O’ Mine” all from one album) and then made “Use Your Illusion” parts I and II which were both fucking fantastic. I’m not sure how they came out of the gate so strong but I imagine cocaine was involved. Cocaine’s a hell of a drug…

It’s approaching Elliott Smith time (aka 2:45 in the morning) as I took a short break for a snack and came back to writing this. I hope you enjoyed the random walk through Bradley’s mind. See you next week!

(dictated but not read)

Monday, August 5, 2019

Meniere's disease and Asperger's team up to fuck with Bradley... aka... just another Wednesday night...

Well, unfortunately, Meniere’s happened again…

So menacing, right? What happened? How bad was it? You weren’t playing music at the time, were you? Not in front of an audience though, right?

Yes. Vertigo attack. 7 out of 10. And yes, I was playing at the time. Yes, it was in a public setting.
I’m not sure what it is about shows that can trigger it from time to time, but it’s been probably six months since I last had any Meniere’s issues. For those unfamiliar with Meniere’s, it is an inner-ear disorder that results in tinnitus, hearing loss, “stuffy ear” feelings, which then cause balance problems and, if it’s bad enough, like it was this past week, full on, room-spinning, nausea-inducing vertigo; which, can sometimes trigger my Asperger’s brain to short-circuit and leads me to fully shut down (read: temporary paralysis), which is horrifying and even more panic-inducing than the whole vertigo thing, which can sometimes be a good thing as once my paralysis faded (about twenty or so minutes later) my brain was no longer focused on the vertigo so that got better (slowly, but still) as a result. See, sometimes awful things can have positive effects.

But, of course, I was playing music. I was done for the evening but things wrapped up early (when does that ever happen in musical situations?) and I got to go sing some more. I got up to go to the bathroom and something felt off. My head was not right. One and half glasses of wine over nearly 3 hours doesn’t do that. Hmm, I thought but brushed it off. Maybe it was the wine-americano-wine combo. I was tired and the caffeine sounded good. Maybe it was being outside in the warmer weather for a few hours. Maybe it was all of the above. It probably was all of the above, who am I kidding? Regardless, I was like “whatever, I’ve played through some dizziness/light-headedness before. No big deal.” 

I got my guitar out and started to tune up (or check the tuning as my trusty Martin D-15 rarely goes out of tune). My vision was suddenly not what it should be. It wasn’t blurry but I could tell it wasn’t right. Was I nervous? That would be weird. Why would I be nervous? I’d already played earlier and did well. I was singing with Brianne and everything was sounding great. It was a cool spot and the sound was good, so why did I suddenly feel an impending doom?

As I walked towards the stage, the dizziness really set in. I was suddenly thinking “one foot in front of the other. Just keep going.” The guitar cord was underneath the mic stand foot, but I couldn’t get myself to bend over and get it loose. I wanted to make a joke about the song, but didn’t for some reason. I started playing and I could tell the tempo wasn’t right. I couldn’t keep it steady. I started to sing but I felt tone-deaf. I didn’t know where I needed to be and I couldn’t fix it anyways. My right ear felt like someone jammed in an ear plug and pushed it way too far in. Just get through it. I wished I was not singing with someone else at that moment because there are tricks you can do when your pitch isn’t quite right but I’d have to change up how I sang the song and there’s no way Brianne would be able to follow along if I started switching things up on the fly. Just get through it. I considered just stopping and walking off. But no, just get through it. I got to a break in the song where a guitar solo would normally be and tried to play it up to the crowd a bit but I felt like was gonna fall over. I could barely make eye contact with Brianne. Just get through it. Finally, the big ending to the song. I think I hit a couple of the big finishing notes sorta OK enough to make people forget how terrible the rest may have been. Maybe, maybe not, but at least it was over. I nearly fell down the stage steps while walking off. I could get my guitar into its case for some reason. It took about a minute or two to just set it in there and latch it closed. By now, I knew what was happening and what was coming.

I didn’t want to be a dick and just walk out as there was another singer up there for a couple tunes. I sat and tried to not look like I was gonna pass out at any moment (though I wish that was an option vs. the 3 or 4 hours of vertigo). As soon as they wrapped up, I thanked everyone and made a quick exit. I got home, got a glass of water and immediately felt nauseous. I had to turn off the ceiling fan as the whole ceiling was already spinning enough for me. Over the next hour it got worse and worse. I couldn’t move or it somehow got even worse. Then, after probably an hour or two (who knows?) the paralysis set in. I couldn’t move. I was thinking “this is easy, just move your fingers” but I couldn’t. My brain had shut everything down. It was overwhelmed and gave up. OK, this has happened before, I thought to myself. But, that quickly gave way to panic. What if it doesn’t come back this time? It didn’t last this long last time, did it? I can’t deal with this AND vertigo right now, can’t one of you fuck off for a bit?

As you can tell by my having typed this out, my muscles slowly came around. Funnily enough, and this has never been the case before, but it was actually my asshole that saved me this time. I felt nauseous and though I might shit myself and when a fart (or poop, I don’t know) was about to come out I was able to clench my asshole. I did it again to make sure it was under my control. It was. Since I could do that, could I wiggle my fingers? I could! Suddenly, it all came back to me. Thank fucking god! And since that had dominated my brain for the past half hour, my vertigo was on the decline. I still couldn’t sit up or move that much but I didn’t feel like I was gonna die at any moment anymore. Another hour later and I could sit up and drink some water. I was massively dehydrated by this time. And exhausted. So exhausted. But I still couldn’t close my eyes for more than a minute without getting super dizzy again.

Another 30-60 minutes (again, who knows at this point..) and I was able to stand up. I was able to go get some more water and walk back without running into things. It felt great. I slept until 1pm the next day. Still a little foggy and not feeling 100% until about 8 or 9pm that next night.
Sounds fun, right? Well, hopefully this means I’m good for the next six months or so (knocks on wood) but we’ll see. Isn’t it awesome when my Meniere’s and my Asperger’s work together to fuck with me royally?

So, anyways, if you see me playing a show and it sounds like I’ve forgotten how to sing and I look like I can barely stand up, I’m not just wasted beyond belief. I wouldn’t waste my or the audiences time with that nonsense. It turns out, I could be struggling horribly. So, be kind, accepting and buy lots of merch to cheer me up…

(dictated but not read)