The Countdown

There's an inside joke in my family. Every birthday I had as a child was most exciting for me not because of the presents or the parties, but because it meant I was older. On my seventh birthday I walked into my parents room and sat down next to mother. I looked up at her and said, "only three years 'till double digits!"To be very honest I'm not sure how old I was when this happened. It could've been seven, but it also could've been anywhere between five and nine. It really doesn't matter. I was always counting down to something I perceived as better and I never lived in the moment. My parents joked that all I've wanted for my entire life was a car, an apartment and a job. It was the truth, all I ever wanted to be was an adult who went to work and made money. What's fucked up is that when I got everything I thought I wanted, I wasn't happy.

I was so anxious to be an adult and get a job that I took online courses the summer between my Junior and Senior year at Emerson College. I took these classes while interning full time in Los Angeles. Let's just say it was very lucky for me that Emerson only accepts transfer credits as a Pass or a Fail. As long as I got a C, I got my credits.  I finished college a semester early, packed my life into my used Nissan Altima and drove to Los Angeles. When I say I "drove to Los Angeles," thats exactly what I meant. I didn't stop at Graceland, I didn't stop at the Grand Canyon, most days I would eat my lunch while I was driving because I wanted so badly to be in Los Angeles, working already. I did the three thousand mile drive in four days, the only problem was, I had no where to live. 

Los Angeles is a very weird town apartment wise. In Boston, you look for apartments three months in advance. In Los Angeles, if you're not moving within two weeks you're wasting your time. I wasn't going to rent someplace over the phone and I didn't feel comfortable crashing on the couch of the only person in town I knew so I got a hotel room. I lasted one night at the first hotel. I should have known it wasn't going to work out when the first key they gave me was to a room with someone already living in it. The second room was barely an improvement. There were two cots masquerading as beds, paint was peeling off of the walls, and I've seen cleaner bathrooms at a truck stop. The following morning I packed my clothes and I got a room at a Rodeway Inn next door. It was barely big enough for the full bed and a mini fridge but at least it was clean and no one was in my room. I had enough money to pay for five days, after that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to pay first month's rent and security deposit at an apartment.

Finding an apartment actually isn't that hard when you're broke and you don't have any standards. I took the first apartment I saw.  "The most desirable street in The Valley" my future land lord told me on the phone. What they didn't tell me was that to get to my apartment I would have to walk through the parking lot of a liquor store. Which is fine, if you like seeing a lot of homeless men with their pants down pissing behind a dumpster. Judging from experience, man grooming isn't much of a concern for the homeless population of Sherman Oaks. But back to the apartment. Despite the surrounding scenery it could have been a great place. However, my landlord was about as interested in maintaining my apartment as I was interested in running a marathon. It was one of four bungalows you see all around LA. If you're unaware, bungalow is the French term for tiny house built in the 20's for C-level actors to live in. My bedroom was a walk in closet, and the living room was big enough for a love seat and a TV. Another glorious part of that apartment was the ants. There were thousands of them. Little tiny assholes who were always there, no matter if I left food out or not. It got to the point that I had a bottle of Clorox Cleanup next to my bed and I would murder any ant I saw. I would leave them on the wall or wherever they were as warnings to the other ants. But apparently ants aren't scared off easily. I had a place to live, I had my car, now its time to work.

I was very lucky, the show I interned for the previous summer offered to hire me so finding a job wasn't an issue. The problem was the vast difference between what I thought I should be doing and what I was actually doing. I spent the first year and a half of my professional career building office furniture, using goo gone and a butter knife to scrape old labels off of camera cases, moving boxes and other tasks I try not to think about. There is very little more demoralizing than paying back student loans after sweating all day in a basement storage locker that smelled so bad I was sure it was giving me some new kind of cancer. I had a car, an apartment, and a job, but I wasn't happy.

The only thing worse than working in that basement, was waking up every day hating my life. Long after I left that show I was working nights on another show. I was working 7pm until 5am six days a week. I used to wake up between 1pm and 3pm and the first thing I would do is look at my phone and figure out how long I had until I had to leave for work. Six hours, five hours, four hours... I would blink and magically three hours had passed. I had the same countdown once I got to work, but things worked a little differently. I would be working and working and working. When I finally looked at the clock, only thirty minutes had gone by. I don't like saying I was depressed because I think a lot of people over use that word. I will say my first three years in Los Angeles were the saddest I've ever been. 

Looking back on it, it's funny because it's gotten to the point where I have a strange love for those days. I learned more stacking boxes than I did in sixteen years of school. I learned that I can get through anything. I learned that you have to start at the bottom, no matter your qualifications. Nothing makes me laugh harder than talking to someone right out of college telling me they turned down a job because the title or pay wasn't prestigious enough. Frankly, I would have a very hard time working with someone who didn't start out at the bottom. There are so many details I saw as minor when I first started that I now know are vital. Another one of my favorites is someone telling me their boss asked them to work late or weekends, and they said no because they wanted to hang out with friends. I still don't have friends in Los Angeles. I have a couple people from my first job I love hanging out with but I haven't seen them in almost two years. I have Paula and Joey and that is IT. Without them I would be 500 pounds going from my house to my office with my only stop being a drive thru. I worked every night shift, weekend shift, overnight I was offered. I definitely wasn't the best worker, but I know there wasn't anyone who worked harder than I did.

For nearly a year and a half I have made a living only by working on The Church Of What's Happening Now. I live in a much smaller apartment, I don't have cable anymore, and I have a lot less material things then I would have if I had stayed working in television. I have done thousands of hours of free work trying to get other podcasts off the ground. My family and friends ask me almost daily when I'm going to get a real job. "No one has fun at work." "All you do is get high, that's not a career." Trust me I've heard it all, and I understand where they're coming from. A lot of people must think I'm crazy to be doing what I'm doing. But I've never been happier. Joey Diaz is one of my best friends, and I get paid to hang out with him. Every time we do a podcast I laugh more than a lot of people do in a month. I have met some of the biggest comedians, UFC fighters, and actors in the world. I'm not sure how long this podcast thing will last. Maybe my next episode will be my last. I am finally learning to live in the moment and not worry so much. I know money will eventually come. Whether that means podcasting, managing comedians, or maybe I'll go back to editing some day. I honestly don't know what the future holds for me. I know I'm having a lot of fun right now and for the first time I'm not counting down for anything. Good or bad.

Thank you for checking this out. If you want to contact me I would love to talk: Flyingjewradio@gmail.com

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