Work

The old saying goes, “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” I’m here to tell you that it ain’t necessarily so.

I’ve been meditating on the nature of work. I love playing music, but it can feel like work sometimes. Recently, I’ve been working my ass off for both of my bands, taking more of a leadership role, researching purchases, coordinating schedules, soliciting opinions, making decisions. I keep telling myself that I should be willing to work as hard for the things I love as I work for money. But, make no mistake: this is work. it can be hard, frustrating and annoying as hell.

It’s rare that playing itself feels like work, but it happens. Sometimes the vibe isn’t there; the audience is unengaged, we aren’t listening to each other and I pump like hell to inflate the balloon. That feels like work; not digging ditches mind you, not completing a stupid government grant application, but work all the same.

The thing is, I like to work. For some reason, that realization shocks the shit out of me. I complain about work all the time, but I like feeling useful and to getting things done. I do get frustrated when my concerns go unheard, my efforts goes for naught, when I labor mightily at something I consider useless or meaningless.

I have a low tolerance for boredom.

All this is preface to an apology for being an unfaithful correspondent. I read somewhere that the most frequently used phrase in the blog-o-sphere is “Sorry I haven’t posted in so long.” What can I tell you, I’ve been busy – working.