Some of you will laugh, some of you will cry... very few of you... okay, almost no one will cry, and the vast majority of you will be totally indifferent, but as of last Sunday I quit the band. Was it because of the odor that clings to Maroons coat, a smell that also occasionally and noisily explodes from his butt? No. Is it because of Harvey's lustful overtures and odd preoccupation with my sex life? No, I kinda enjoyed both. Was it the constant humping and beer stink of John Crow? Nope, that just reminded me of dad. Could it be, Sharkbait's indifferent sarcasm and... what ever else it is he does? No sir! Perhaps it was Phil's enticing butt shaking that made leave before desire over took me? I don't think so, though. Or could it be a general sense that if I didn't leave soon members of my on crew would kill me in my sleep? Probably true, but still not the reason.
I left because it's time for a change. As much fun and as exciting as it's been the last several years traveling with the band, I'm still where I was at 18. Literally. Same house, same job, and the only thing that has changed is that I have more bills. I wanted to do a lot when I was 18, most people do. I realized though I have accomplished very little of what I wanted to do and haven't done much about it. So I need time to focus, to save, and I need to go somewhere with a little faster pace and with more access to the things that will help me accomplish what I want to do. So I'll be moving to NYC in the fall of next year and hoping that I can find some part time or volunteer work at one of the rags there in the city or on a low level cable show. More like than not I'll become one of the cities many night security guards or waiters, and I know the chances of me breaking into the performance world or the writing world are about as good there as they are here... but at least I'll know I really tried, and that I risked something. I'll spare you the rest of the thoughts that have been rolling around in my head for months now and just say my goodbyes.
I want to say a special good bye to Jaime Hauser, who made LARF my favorite fair and a way of looking forward to the end of the year. She always has enough Gumbo and alcohol at her house to feed an army and intoxicate an Irish village... and every Saturday night she does just that. Also Celie, Dana, Wingnut and his brood, who pretty much always filled our audience before we even got started at Norman and any other fairs in Oklahoma. Not mention Celie and her desserts with enough booze in them to make an AA member feel the need to give their chip back, Wingnut's video taping and end of day bar-b-que, and Dana's girls all over the place filling the audience with energy and cutening up the place. So to all the fans, ladies, and various band members, good-bye... and good luck.
I'll wrap it up before I get too mushy and someone vomits on their keyboard. If you're reading this you obviously have a computer, so feel free to stay in touch. You can email at Joshua.firstname.lastname@example.org if you like, or I'll see you when I see you. And just so you know that I am still the same shameless merchandising whore at heart... if you really miss me, you'll go to the Treasure Island Page and buy your very own Galleon O'Galleon button.