The Christmas Lights

Every year, as it grows closer to the holidays, I always cast my mind back to the previous year when I was again unloading and installing the lights that I put up outside my apartment.

Now I live in nice, Southern California neighborhood that I'm happy with.  But I do want to buy a house and have a sense of roots beyond the rent that I bleed out every month.  In fact, if I could afford it, I'd probably have a house somewhere close to where I'm already at.  It's just bascially the difference between renting and owning that I want to modify - which would mean, of course, that I was making enough money to afford a house.

I mention this because every year when I put away my lights, I think to myself, "I'm not  going to be here next year.  I am going to change my financial situation to the point where I can buy a place."  Then I'll put up all new Christmas lights and bless us one and all.

And every year I'm here.  Which, as I've said, isn't all that bad - but it's still...here.

My writing career, like all careers in the arts, is an up and down thing.  I may never achieve the financial success of writers like the guys who worked on "Star Trek Rebooted" or the David Goyers/Shane Blacks.  I work hard, I write cool movies (I think) and still I sit here, year after year, staring at the same walls, in the same office, doing the same monetary mambo that I've done for the last ten years or so.

Lame.

Or not.

One good thing about this economy (if there is such a thing) is a lesson that I hear loud and clear:  nothing is forever and even those with previously stable jobs are suffering.  I know I'm lucky - I know I also work hard to make myself this lucky.  I just wish that understanding and recognition came with some better financial benefits.  But at the end of the day, that's a small thing.

If I never buy a house, if I never achieve the success of the A-List writers then at least I can say (cue song) I did this my way.  Not so bad when you think of it.  I'm not worse off than any one else even if perhaps I'm not better off either.

I think as I contemplate dragging the boxes of lights out for yet another year to then somehow staple my thumb to the eaves, I will stop thinking about tomorrow or next year and once again thank whoever it is that's responsible for this world 'o madness that I do have many, many blessings that perhaps each year don't grow - but they certainly do not diminish much... 

No, you don't have to say it - I do know - that's worth a lot more than I can imagine.

Thanks for listening but excuse me now - I've got lights to put up.

Mark