Business has been perilously poor on some recent days. Money woes can't occupy space in my head 'cause they don't pay rent.
Beside, someone else's doing plenty of worrying for me, so I don't have to. My
significant other obsesses constantly about
money and voices her concerns to all who'll listen. It's becoming really,
really, really boring.
No matter how much I try to get her to think in terms of
quarterly or monthly results, my suggestions fall on deaf
ears. Slow days turn into nightmares of endurance for
myself and the staff. Busy days are spent lamenting over yesterday's lack of
patrons. I believe it's a self-help group which coined the phrase, "If you've
got one foot in tomorrow and one foot in yesterday, you're pissing all over
today. Well, my cranky, concerned companion isn't buying it.
There's light at the end of the tunnel, however, and thank God it ain't a
know that she's been pleasant, happy and content before; the last time she lapsed into a
human quagmire of unpleasantness she sought help from a doctor after I and many of her friends and
relatives suggested she do so. The doctor cured the cause and therefore
alleviated the symptoms.
Now, the problem of late is one with a simple solution. Her hormones
are doing somersaults. I can see and almost feel her suffering; it's
similar to my knowledge and experience with the all-consuming discomfort of a junkie in withdrawal. Well, a
naturopathic solution was prescribed, and she and I are going to have to wait
a month or two just to see if this particular solution is effective. Patience is
one of the virtues I possess that I cherish the most. I'm willing to give it a
wait. Understandably, she's of a different opinion and wants results
yesterday. She'll have to take responsibility for having chosen alternative
medicine over a more conventional sure thing.
The conventional quick fix increases slightly a woman's chance of suffering
breast cancer. I was the one who mentioned this risk when she asked if she
should see a doctor about getting the prescription hormones that have been so
effective for one of our workers and also her sister. I felt selfish when I had
thoughts of trying to get her to obtain a second opinion by way of ending her
suffering (and mine) in one fell swoop.
On a better note, I and a great singer who's also a good friend have decided
to have a baby together. Yours truly is executive producer. That title
evokes in some people's minds thoughts of big, flashy offices, big cigars and
even bigger cars, and lots of parties.
In reality, it means that I put up a whole bunch of money to pay for the
musicians, the studio time (if you think lawyers bill a lot by the
hour, try hiring a studio owned or staffed by a reputable recording engineer), the licensing of the
music itself, permission to put a SoundScan "fingerprint"
on the disc (to measure radio play), the cover/booklet art, the manufacture of the disc and the four-color
separations and printing therefor, and finally, initial distribution of the
disc. Additionally, I'm going to have to sell the disc to an American label.
My friend, who is a Filipino-American, has succeeded with three out of four
discs in his country of origin, with distribution extending to Hawaii, as well.
These were pop releases, however. I am funding his first venture into the world
of jazz. He's good, and we're pretty sure that his label in Hawaii will take
over manufacture and distribution there and in the Phillipines. Getting good
distribution in the continental United States is an entirely different matter.
Amazon.com charges a fortune and is hit-or-miss. CD Baby offers a more
profitable deal, but is nowhere near as well-known. A well-established label
with a vast distribution network is gonna be the only way to go.
What the heck, the worst-case scenario is that I end up with only an initial
run of nearly 300 CDs that cost me $37 each to make (and a fat tax deduction).
The best-case scenario is that my cup runneth over and the resulting feather in
my producer's cap will cause my chapeau to be noticed by other artists
and perhaps other labels. We're moving ahead rapidly and will know in time for
Christmas whether or not Santa Claus gives me one form of carbon in my
stocking or a more delightful one altogether.
I am already rehearsing my Grammy acceptance speech.