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transitional period

whenever I think of the term transitional period, I think of that scene in Pulp Fiction when the couple is holding up the diner and Julian (as played by Samuel L Jackson) mentions “I’m in a transitional period right now and I don’t want to hurt you, I want to help you...”

I’ve said those exact words so many times that I’m surprised nobody ever mentioned the reference, though it is rather obscure. I’m just as surprised that nobody’s ever retorted (‘retort’ being another word that reminds me of Julian from Pulp Fiction) and said “Davey, you’re always in a transitional period.”

And I guess I am.

I suppose I am in that long transition from birth to earthly death, but I am also constantly changing. I often think of the old Greek philosophical proverb ‘A man never stands in the same river twice‘ – something that is constantly in mind, and I jokingly said to someone who was describing how the pizza from this one family-owned pizzeria is always a little different than the time before, but it’s always good. My joke flew past… but I’m autistic so whatever.

I will often wonder if I am the only person who feels this way. From the outside, it seems like so many people are just hitting that day-to-day as consistently and (possibly) as aimlessly as ever, just surviving… never thriving or flailing, steady as she goes until something life-altering happens, at which point they are so jarred by circumstance that they can’t get their footing, and their eyes are opened for the very first time.

That’s not a description of anyone in particular. It’s a broad generalization about the seemingly ‘non-player characters’ (NPC’s, for the less hip readers) we come across in places like the pet food store or the food court at the mall.

Perhaps I’m the same, but I was jarred into consciousness by circumstance at an early age. Perhaps at birth. Because even within my own family there are NPC’s, just circumnavigating their own container… never trying to do better… but never doing bad enough to warrant a swift and brutal change.

It almost sounds blissful, even in it’s mundanity… to never know struggle because you’ve never known challenge. I’ve seen people who are really smart somehow end up in these scenarios and they ultimately destroy themselves one way or another… possibly intentionally but likely by accident. As if nothing bad ever happens, so they do bad things with impunity… until; of course, something punitive happens. Are they then brought into the consciousness that I’ve known my whole life? Where they must actually make choices and defend their actions, and learn something integral? Will they see God, perhaps? Or will God see THEM? Will they THEN become a player in the game, giving up their NPC status?

Wild shit, folks.

Part of me knows the flaws in this line of thinking.
But another part of me can’t help but think that maybe it really is that simple.

It doesn’t matter.
I mean, sure, those people matter. Their vote counts and they have rights and they exist… own real estate… what have you.
But I don’t know them, and I have no say over what they say or do.
THUS… I cannot be concerned with their lifestyles or decision-making processes, as these are things I cannot really affect.
All I can do is hope.
Hope they’re good people who treat their children and spouses well, and shovel their goddamn sidewalks.

All I can do is what I can do.

And… I’m doing some really cool stuff that I’m really excited about, but I must remain cagey in an effort to put forward “a big reveal” in the future.

What I can tell you is that – on an unrelated note – my band just approved the artwork for the album we’re releasing this year. You should get a copy for your turntable.
You should buy a turntable.

At any rate, what I can EMPHATICALLY tell you is this:

I’m in a transitional period.

emotionally i’m a celebrity

“Emotionally I’m a celebrity” That’s a line from an Iggy Pop song, but I sorta love it and I think it’s a fair descriptor of how I feel sometimes – although, yes, I DO understand that ol’ Iggy is takin’ the piss over a generation of punk rockers who don’t understand punk rock.

Maybe it speaks to you, too.
Maybe it doesn’t, and I’m emotionally dysregulated… but are we not all the main characters in our own stories?

Once upon a time, they used to call artists, (and by extension, popular artists) (and also by extension, rich weirdos who were often popular artists beck before being ‘famous for being famous’ was a vocation) ‘eccentric.’ That’s a term I haven’t heard used in a long time; likely since medical science has come up with actual diagnoses for these disabilities.

Yes, disabilities – and that’s an important distinction.

These people who operated in these ways fell under the umbrella – or; nore accurately, were swept under the rug – of ‘eccentric‘ which was a catch-all term for ‘a little different but ultimately harmless‘ primarily because they saw beauty in things that their contemporaries didn’t. These folks were odd. They’d simultaneously procrastinate and fixate. They’d be uncredited authorities on obscure topics. They acted out sometimes… or became reclusive. They showed up late and left early. They wore sunglasses indoors and dressed differently. they were called ‘weird’ ‘gifted’ ‘wild’ and my personal favorite: ‘talented’. They flocked together. They had a hard time maintaining employment. They drove fast. They lived a high-risk lifestyle. And there were countless other symptoms… and unfortunately for those who lived their lives before these diagnoses were available – they self medicated their disabilities in lieu of actual help.

There’s that word again. Disabilities.

Anyway,
… all of those things are still true.
… and have been true for me along the way.

The importance of that distinction comes with some controversy within the community, I suppose, but I’m beginning to think that controversy is regional – as in, if you live in a place where there’s no government funded help available and you’ve received an adult diagnosis after developing your own coping methods over the course of your life – you probably don’t want to be labeled as a ‘disabled person.’

However; if you do live in a place where there’s government-funded help and tax breaks, that designation is probably a blessing.

But if you live in a place, as I do, where; although you were diagnosed as an adult, and have some (healthy) coping mechanisms (after dispelling your unhealthy ones on your own, the hard way), and the governing body in your region DOES provide help and support, but the current folks in power are actively trying to take money out of the pockets of disabled people, it’s a VERY important designation.

Me? Yeah, I’m ultimately fine. I made it this far, didn’t I?
I’m pretty high-functioning ADHD and ASD (AuDHD, technically).
But that doesn’t mean I have a spare $5,000.00 kicking around for testing (regardless of the outcome) as well as $150/month for medication and an untold fortune for ongoing therapy.

How about folks who are not quite so high-functioning?
Or folks who are dealing with a whole bunch more than I am?

These disability designations are crucial.

So my job… my role here… is to highlight the fact that these people are all around you. This is why I’ve decided to be open about this, and not to be embarrased about it.

Because April 2nd was World Autism Awareness Day… (and yes, the notion of posting this on a thursday was really problematic for me due to my Saturday morning ritual… and my… ASD… struggled with that) and there will be all kinds of cool information being posted and shared all month that I hope you will take in.

Thanks everyone.

The Iggy Pop quote is from the song Neo Punk, from his most recent album “Every Loser” which is a great record from front to back and the fact that he put out such a barn burner of an album at 75 years old should give you as much hope as it gives me.

Another line from that song is “my hair is blue, and my prescription, too” but both my prescription AND my hair are grey. Not joking.

coaxed out of my little world

It’s funny how a diagnosis for something you’ve had for your entire life without ever knowing it can change your perspective.

Before this blog took the shape of it’s current container, it was primarily based around my relationship with my environment, which is a pretty broad field that encompasses fitness, art, my dog, interactions with nature, food… but I started it when I started triathlon training – so a lot of fitness posting.

Anyway, I still do that. The difference is that when I am turning the volume of my headphones up, I realize that I’m not ONLY doing that because Rob Zombie makes some of the best treadmill-running music ever recorded (more on that below!), but also because I need to tune out the noise of everyone around me. The action has not changed, but the perspective has.

What has also most definitely NOT changed is how jarring it is when someone wants to talk to me.

So I’m in the locker room this past week, about to embark on some relentless sprinting drills when an old man comes out of absolutely NOWHERE and scares the shit out of me to eventually get around to saying “last time I was here I saw you ran for A WHOLE HOUR! I only do 20 minutes!” which was simultaneously mortifying knowing that people are watching me that closely, and flattering knowing that people are watching me that closely. I tried to say “well it’s time to go do it again” in a somewhat encouraging way – though it probably came out all monotone and dismissive.

At any rate, I came away more encouraged than embarrassed and I got to thinking about how when I started, I was fat. I couldn’t jog my slow ass to the end of the block without wheezing, let alone adhere to the first day of my “couch to 5k” plan I was following which involved 6 minutes of jogging followed by 1 minute of walking, 3 times over.

It made me glad that this little disarming man was able to coax me out of my little insular world and encourage me to keep pushing the limit.

The snow that’s falling on my house as I type this is upsetting. I got some brand new shoes delivered yesterday – Saucony Endorphin Pro 4’s that are being blown out as the 5’s are now available. I got a killer deal on them and it’s making me excited for spring… so the falling snow is really fuckin’ up my good vibe right now.

Also, I meant what I said when I said that Rob Zombie makes some of the best treadmill running music ever recorded. His new album “The Great Satan” harkens back to early Zombie days, and has some old collaborators on it as well.

As an aside, Rob Zombie reminds me of a lot of the self aggrandizing elements of rock & roll that are often disregarded. And by that I mean that in the tradition of Bon Scott and David Bowie, he takes on characters that demand that you refer to him as various things… including but not exclusively “The Devilman” “Sir Lord Acid Wolfman” “The Black Scorpion” “Tarantula” and “Rock ‘n’ Roller” (which has it’s own nod to Bowie, or rather Ziggy & The Spiders from Mars) and I find it all very endearing, personally. It’s all reminiscent of such rock & roll proclamations as AC/DC’s “I’m TNT” “I’m a rocker” and the cancel-culture-worthy “I’m the Night Prowler” or Iggy Pop’s “I am a passenger” or even Thin Lizzy’s “I am just a cowboy.”

I don’t plan to do a “best of 2026” album list at the end of the year but you can rest assured that this album would be on it if I did.

If you heard this album and hated it, consider giving it another spin while on a treadmill.

thanks / embarrassment

Sometimes I write this thing, and I have absolutely no real concept of who’s readying it, or when. The hosting platform shows me a little number, but I don’t delve into that because I don’t really want to write for a specific audience. I’m not trying to grow a brand… well, not here, anyway.

There are people who read it every week. They let me know. I am deeply appreciative of it, and it makes me feel really good that after a few years of public journaling, that what I’m saying has some resonance…

But 2 weeks ago when I posted about my neurodivergent diagnoses, people really came out of the woodwork to let me know they had my back, or… brain… or… whatever they had, they were supporting me.

So, thank you very much. All of you.

Now for the ’embarrassment’ part.
No… I’m not embarrassed. Quite the opposite.

When I was younger, I used to think I wasn’t embarrassed easily. Actually, no… I thought you couldn’t embarrass me if you tried. While that’s probably still true, it’s conditional, because one of the tiny little things I’ve realized about myself is that I can be embarrassed very easily – just not through conventional means.

I fear no ridiculous karaoke song, no questionable stage attire, no public speaking event, no dirty joke, and I don’t subscribe to any ideologies or political views that will come back to bite me in any meaningful way… but I gotta say, being cool; or at least perceived as cool, is vitally mportant to me.

That probably sounds pretty dipshitty… but why would I lie about it now?

When I was a kid, I never felt cool. As a matter of fact, I was certain that I wasn’t. I was kind of a weird kid – I was very quiet, and I had a real hard time keeping up with other kids because I really felt like I didn’t belong anywhere… especially with kids my own age.

I went to a private christian school in Grade 1 & 2, and I was homeschooled in grade 3… and then when I was new to the Edmonton Public School system in grade 4, I got picked on. Maybe we all did, but it sure felt like I was the only one back then. So I did what I was supposed to do – I told a teacher. Allow me to tell you – and I would say it to any kid I meet who is dealing with the same thing – that was the worst fucking idea anyone ever had.

The school talked to the bully.
And they let me leave 5 minutes early to get a head start so I could get home… but within a couple days the bully came and found me and pushed me around.

I told the teacher again, and they called my dad.

In my eyes, my dad was all that is man.
He was a big strong guy who didn’t take any shit from anyone, and honestly he terrified me, because I was ULTRA timid and he worked shift work, which meant he was grumpy, and probably worried about money, though I wouldn’t know what that meant just yet.

I was so embarrassed.
I was so sure that my dad already thought I was a wimp, and if I had my way, I wouldn’t even be a blip on his radar most of the time… but he picked me up from school that day and he took me out for lunch to McDonald’s, which was a rare treat back then.

He instilled upon me that day that “REAL tough guys don’t start fights, but they ain’t afraid to end ’em” and that if you’re backed up against the wall, sometimes the only way out is to punch your way out.

Since then I’ve really only had to throw fists a couple times… but I remember consciously deciding at that point that I didn’t want to be the kind of person who gets pushed around ever again. I wanted to be the kind of person who – if someone saw you pushing me around, they’d think YOU were the asshole, and not worry about whether or not I was okay… because guys like ME are ALWAYS okay.

That’s a long way around the bend…but all that was to say that there’s a level of vulnerability around mental health diagnoses that’s required, and although I intuitively want to share and help destigmatize and demystify these things – it DOES kinda go against my laurels to open up that way.

So for me, I had to decide not to be embarrassed by it. I had to decide that it’s totally cool to be transparent about my neurodivergence and my challenges so that maybe some twerpy kid who’s as unsure of himself as I once was can look at me and my neurodivergent cohort and say “if he’s cool with it then I can be cool with it, too.”

Anyway… if you read all that, thanks again.

in the dark

Last week I opened up about my ADHD and ASD diagnoses… so you can go ahead and anticipate some neurodivergent talk here.

It’s a hell of a thing to get diagnoses like that as a 43 year old man.

The best way I can describe this is to say that metaphorically… I’ve been feeling around in the dark for a long time.
And sneezing… for decades.
So I’m just there… navigating through the dark, thinking I’m pretty good at it… and again: sneezing – but assuming that everyone is having the same sneezing problems as me… and nobody can see what’s really happening.
Then someone turns the light on.
And suddenly I realize that MOST of the people around me had flashlights.
And the room is FULL of cats.
And I’m sneezing… and I’m realizing that everyone could see fine except for me.
And I’m the only one allergic to cats.
And now it’s all coming together and making sense.

I’ve always been good at puzzles and games.
I’m good at most things I try to do, if I’m being honest.
But that’s partly due to (a) only trying things I know I’d be good at, and (b) not allowing myself to be bad at anything.

The kicker is that those Modus Operandi are actually defense mechanisms that are cleverly disguised as brilliance and ambition… or discipline.
Don’t get me wrong… ambition and aptitude are requirements, but I have to ask myself if any of these things are truly difficult.
Now… they are, generally VERY difficult, but I still have to ask.

I have tried things that I wasn’t good at right away. We all have. But I know what I’m capable of, because I’ve been in the driver’s seat of this body for 4 decades… so I can look at a thing I don’t know how to do and logically relate it to something else I enjoy.
Often there’s only a few degrees of separation.

For example – I have a 1962 Ford Fairlane that I work on and drive in the summer months. I have the aptitude and discipline for this. I am also a proficient guitar player who’s very picky about his electric guitar sound. So, it’s not a stretch to say that I might be good at building my own guitar distortion pedals… because I understand the construction and robust requirements of a metal box that gets stepped on for dramatic effect, and I know what sounds good. I just need to understand circuits…

… so I’m learning how t understand circuits.

Not to downplay this new hobby at all, because it’s very cool, and very fun, and very rewarding, and it is artisan work… but buying a bunch of tools and components was not a risk for me, because of course I’d be good at that.

Anyway… I clearly have more questions than answers.
I appreciate you reading this.

PS… I’m building guitars pedals now.

medicated

I’ve alluded to somethings that are going on in my life that I wasn’t quite prepared to talk about because I didn’t want to put the cart before the horse; so to speak, until I had an official diagnosis to lean on… and while the wheels are in motion as I am typing this, we’re still not quite there. But, I have enough to know that I am able to share.

I thought I’d know where to start, but I don’t… so I’ll just blurt it out and then backtrack, in true neurodivergent fashion.

I have ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), and the reason I am able to talk openly about it now is because my doctor (whom I am so very fortunate to have in this province), who DOES have the credentials to make a formal diagnosis has confirmed as much. My doctor has opted not to give me the diagnosis; however, because in order to get access to the best mental health care in the region, my diagnosis has to come from a psychiatrist – to which I have been referred.

Now, I know a lot about health and wellness. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you likely know that I dropped 166 lbs pre-covid and kept it off, and have a number of accomplishments under my belt. I’ve learned how to keep myself out of the high-risk zones, statistically speaking;and when prodded, can be a great resource to others. I train hard to this day and am in excellent physical condition for any age, let alone the age I am.

I’ve also given out some free advice about various types of medications… particularly hear meds, blood pressure meds, and the like because I am living proof that diet and exercise can keep you out of the ICU. I have very proudly been able to say that I am a 40-something year old man and I take ZERO medications. Until now.

Now, I am on medication for ADHD, and it’s been a trip, I must say.

First off, the thought that I could be misconstrued and give people the impression that I had something valid to say about ALL medications absolutely guts me. I very well may have given that impression (though I know I never spoke to brain-drugs directly in public) and if that’s the case, then I sincerely apologize. I’ve never considered myself the arbiter of mental health, so I’m certain I never said anything SPECIFICLY about brain meds… but again… if misconstrued, I apologize.

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I will say that my experience on these ADHD meds has been absolutely life changing. I can say that I’ve never been so present and in the moment (shy of being on-stage with my band) in my entire life. My workouts are better, my interactions with other people are better, I’m better at my job, and I believe my songwriting and performance of my instrument has improved with my enhanced focus and my ability to tune out distractions and just think about one thing a a time.

The only downside is that since my ADHD symptoms are more within my control than ever before – my Autism symptoms are on FULL display, and it’s been eye-opening to say the least. Obviously I’m functional, but there are heavy challenges, to be sure.

I’ll get more into that in the future. This post is long enough.

I’ll sign off by saying that I’m not looking for attention. If you know anything about ASD then you can be certain of that – but I’m happy to talk and share stories with people who are similarly afflicted or respectfully curious… but… y’know… through email is fine, lol…
… maaaybe don’t go runnin’ up to me when you see me at the mall or the hardware store with earplugs and sunglasses on and unload on me with stories.
… aaand as far as email goes… if you want to send me a big long email, please know that THOSE are hard to digest. Put the important parts in bold. Maybe use a few different colors.

Much love.

consistency

Spring is coming and I can feel it. I’ve done a very good job of staying consistent with training indoors through the summer months but I am very keen to get into the river valley and do some running and biking.

Before long I’ll have my summer tour schedule and I’ll know if & when I can race this summer. I might be too busy again this year but I guess we’ll see what shakes out. I do have a new album to promote and the summers are short and fraught with festivals in this part of the world.

I’ve been running between 45 and 60 minutes per day, 5 days per week – followed by a 30-45 minute weight session. Naturally that’ll have to change a bit once the snow melts and I’m back outside, but realistically it’ll be the May Long Weekend before I’m really digging into Edmonton’s river valley. It stays pretty cold and icy down there for a long time under the shade of all those trees, so realistically I have a quarter of the year to go before it really matters.

In the meantime… consistency is key. But progressive consistency…

My goals in the next few months are to extend my running intervals and shorten my walking intervals. Part of my desire to extend running intervals stems from a desire to get on the stationary bike more than I have been, as well as getting into the pool now for a bit before I find myself in the tattoo chair again, which pulls me out of the water for a while each time. With my weightlifting, I’m already going to failure on the final set of each exercise. The next step is progressive loading, which I am doing a bit of already as well.

I’m trying not to get too far ahead of myself.

Often I will devise a new plan for the future, and then say “why wait” and dive into a new routine, but I’m really trying to ride this out so that when I do change, it’s an appropriate shock to my system. I aim to change my diet a bit once we’re into a season where food grows, as food that grows on trees and bushes is rather important when you’re vegan.

I’ve been learning that this fitness routine and priority is of great advantage to me in my newfound condition. Not that my condition is new, but the knowledge of it is rather new to me. I’ll be speaking on that more in the future, as I’m still just wrapping my head around it, but as it turns out – healthy diet and regular exercise remains very important for those who are fortunate enough to be able to do it.

Before you speculate on my condition, please know that I am happy to have it, as it’s part of who I am. The only thing new or startling about it is that I wasn’t aware of it before, but at this stage of my life where I’m implemented so much positive change, I’m ready to take on this new thing in a positive light. It’s certainly not as scary as it would have been 10 years ago.

… only a little scary.
More on that later.

Thanks for reading.