December 18, 2007

I sent this out far-and-wide a few days ago by email. If you didn't get it, it means I don't have your email address. (*ahem* hint hint)

Hi... um, Everybody:

As many of you know, I try to broadcast out an email a couple times a year, just to stay in-touch with all the folks out there who may be wondering where and how I've been.

This one's a few months late, because I've been waiting until I had both a steady job and a permanent address to tell you. I'm happy to say that I now have both.

The job: For the past 6 weeks or so, I've been milling flour part-time for the Fairhaven Organic Flour Mill, here in Bellingham. It's a small-time operation-- besides the owner & his wife, I'm currently the mill's only employee-- but the mill's been a part of this community for 30+ years now. It's an enjoyable job, and the fair wage will pay the bills (though, at the moment, money is still pretty tight.)

The address: 1444 Franklin Street, Bellingham WA 98225. Yep, my other big news of the weekend is that I've finally found a new place to live. Along w/ my new housemates Galen and Taylor, I'll be renting a 3-bedroom house in the York neighborhood of Bellingham, close to downtown. The place is a little funky right now and needs some redecorating, but I like the roommates and the nice location. I think we'll get along fine.

Again, the new postal address is...

Mike Kelley
1444 Franklin St
Bellingham, WA 98225

Feel free to send me things, I love getting real mail.

The rest of my contacts remain unchanged...

phone: 248-820-9989
email: mwkelley@gmail.com
website: http://beyondmetamora.net

Photos from this summer and fall are now up on Flickr:

I wish I could make this letter a lot longer and a little more eloquent. There's a stack of other things I could blab about; but I promised myself I'd get this sent out tonight, and I don't have the energy right now to ramble on.

Hope all is well, wherever this finds you.

-- Michael Kelley

Whew, I get shaky hands just writing about this...

I've got an update as well. It isn't much yet but it might turn into something really worth writing about. I think I will be moving to Las Vegas sometime in the next few months. I am finally going to get started on my dream of playing poker professionally.

I've been in Colorado, working for my little brother, for seven or eight years now. It has been one of the most comfortable ruts I've ever been in. I don't get paid regularly, my car hasn't run in months now and my back rent is outrageous, but I live where I work, have cars to borrow and owe the back rent to the same person who owes me back pay.

So anyways, we had a heart to heart recently, briefly, following a little spat between me and my sister-in-law. The sum of it is, I've been here long enough. I helped him get his business off the ground. My original intention was not to leave until I was sure that it would steadily and safely pay all of his bills. That point may or may not be right around the corner (I believe it is) but either way, it has been long enough, I've put my life on hold for long enough, I've got to move on.

So, he thought about that for a little while and came back and told me he'd arrange to have all of the back pay he owes me whenever I ask for it. Now, I'm the one who minds the money and pays the bills around here. I don't see that amount being available anywhere, but he assures me it is and, fuck it, I'm taking him at his word.

Now the scary part - it is time for me to shit or get off the pot. If I'm serious about doing this, moving to Las Vegas, there is nothing standing in my way. I've got no excuses left.

My outline for the next few weeks seems to be: document my job so that anyone else can take it over, file my tax returns for the last several years and get whatever refunds are still available, find a place to live in Las Vegas, find a job in Las Vegas, pack, sell everything I'm not bringing, find a temporary home for my dog and then move.

Ugh, I know I know, find a job? I thought you were going to play poker? Well, I am, but I'm trying to be responsible about it. At best, I'll arrive in Vegas with a car, some clothes and hygiene products and a few grand. Technically speaking, sure, I could go to the nearest casino and start giving it a go. I could live in a cheap motel or Executive Suites type place and just try to get out of the gate so fast that money isn't a concern after a month or two. Unlikely...

More realistically, my move to Vegas simply gets me closer to my goal. It puts the tables 30 minutes away instead of six hours away. I'm sure I'll be playing within a few days of arriving but it will be at smaller tables, just learning and getting accustomed to the scene. No, I'll have to get a job and get some steady money coming in. I'll have to replace all that time I spent playing video games or watching television with sitting at the tables, a part-time job. Really though, whenever anyone starts their own business, if they are dedicated to it succeeding they don't worry about 8 hours a day or more or less, they just do what needs to be done. I'll have to do the same, work a regular job and work on my second job as many hours as I can fit in around it.

If things go well, if I get lucky early, I'll build up enough of a roll that I can play poker full time. If things go really well I'll be telling everyone here when they can see me on TV.

If things go badly... This is what tempers my excitement and makes it feel like fear. On the one hand, I'm past 30 years of age and there is no reason I shouldn't be entirely responsible for myself. In reality, I've only lived entirely truly on my own for a few years. For most all of my life I've had a safety net within reach, a shelter or a meal if things went bad. In Vegas I won't have that anymore, there is no family or friends within a short drive, no couch I can crash on or guaranteed job I can nab. It'll just be me vs. the world.

I get a sinking feeling in my stomach whenever I imagine myself leaving here, on the road, arriving in Vegas, starting a new real job, living with complete strangers (no way I'll be able to afford my own place). I worry that I'm not going with enough money, there will be none left over after fixing my car and putting down deposits on a new place and buying a new wardrobe for a new job. I worry that I'll flake out and not have enough discipline to put my money in the right places, that I'll be so excited to be there I'll put too much in play too soon and have one of my legs knocked out from under me. I worry that I won't plan well enough or that I'll move too soon, that I'm giving up a very comfortable life in return for a very risky one. I worry that some part of my plan will fail after I get there, I won't get the job I had lined up or I won't get the room I thought I had reserved and I'll have to spend some of my meager savings on a temporary shelter. I worry a lot.

I don't know how this is going to play out, I really don't. I know that before this came up with my brother, my boss, I was feeling very trapped here. I was not content at all, I hated living where I do and I hated working where I do. Now that it seems all of my wishes have been answered I can't remember why I hated this security so much. So what if it gets a little cold or I get woken up early some mornings? So what if I don't have much of a life at all? At least I have security... I'm trying to wrap my head around, trying to get comfortable with, the idea that I really can give all this up and actually do something for myself. I can start my own life, my own job, work on my own dreams and advance my own career. I can do this!

We'll see...

next

POINT/COUNTERPOINT:
Tyler Evans, Grade 6, Cedar Ridge Middle School
and
Vichizzle McNizzle, Pimp Daddy

Santa Claus

Vichizzle: Well ho, ho, ho, Hos! It be Christmas time again. Izz time fo freezin yo ass off, prezzents, and that big fatass ridin around in thuh air in his fly sleigh pulled by them "eight tiny reindeer" givin shit to the chillins while visions of dime bags be dancin in they heads. What do I think about Clawwz? Well, in they immortalizin words of Insane Clown Posse, "Santa's a fat bitch!"

Now, I know there ain't no Santa (sorry, chillins!) but if they was, there'd be serious doubtification if he would evah drive that ringlin', jinglin' ho-wagon over to thuh ghetto, cuz those kids ain't evah get shit! And dat's one thing that thuh ICP gots right! You see, he only give toyz to thugh "good" boyz and girls, but what, izz he thuh ultimate world deciduh of what's good and what's bad? Sheeeeeeeeeaaat! He'd be like most richass white folk in judgin what be right and wrong and I thinks we can all agree that Santa must be a fuckin billionare like that Trump muthafucka.

And let me acks you dis, my Chrismtas crackahs, why he always like to hang out wit them elves anyway? There's some Michael Jackson shit goin on there, dat what I say! Maybe we renames him Pedo Claus, sheeeeeaattt! Little Hermey prolly wantin' to be a dentist to get the fuck away from Santa's molestin mittons! And further dat, maybe Santa and Yukon Cornelius be diggin fo mo than silver and gold, knowhaddi'msayin?! Yeah dat right, I thinks you do! And, shit, maybe things even mo fucked up than dat! I mean, whaddup wit them reindeer anyway? Maybe they ain't just be pullin duh sleigh, maybe Ol' Saint Nick be ridin 'em, too! I don't even wanna know what he do to Rudolf to get his nose to light up like dat! Hey, hey, listen up, befo y'all get yo panties bunched, the dude live on the North Fucking Pole, y'all! The fat bitch be freezin his balls off and only gets out one time a year and all he got to fuck is that old Mrs. Claus hag! It not a fa stretch!

Tyler: Santa Claus is a mythical Christmas figure that I think originally came from Saint Nicholas, this saint who lived a really long time ago who gave toys and stuff to children. My dad doesn't like the whole Santa thing. He doesn't like how we tell the kids that the presents come from him and they get all worked up with Santa and forget the real reason for the season, as he says. Which is Jesus I guess. I have a teacher, though, who says that Jesus was born in the spring actually so I don't know why we celebrate his birth on the wrong date and when it's so cold. My dad told me that that teacher was full of shit and not to listen to him anymore.

But anyway. Because my dad wasn't so keen on the whole Santa thing he told me there wasn't any Santa when I was only six. My mom got real mad at him, I remember, when he told me. And I cried a lot about that. She got really REALLY mad when he told me to tell all of my classmates, too. Well, I didn't, cuz later my mom told me I shouldn't do that.

But Santa's cool I guess, even though he isn't real, how jolly he's supposed to be, how he gives presents away. I mean, he's not telling people they're going to Hell for not believing in him like Jesus does. And that's a big plus for the fat guy in red.

The other day we were at Walgreen's shopping for some ornament hooks and present labels and my dad saw that they had this singing Santa that was black. You should've seen how mad he got! He started yelling about how Santa's not black and that he's white and this and that. People started looking at us and my mom told my dad to shut up, that people were staring, and he finally did. But boy when we got home he just went on and on about it. I guess my dad's cool and all most of the time but sometimes I'm with my mom, I wish he'd just shut the f up. Besides, my teacher says that Santa is probably not as white as he's depicted anyway given where St. Nicholas came from. I thought I probably shouldn't mention that one to dad or he'd get mad at me for listening to that teacher again.

Vichizzle: So in conclusions, I say that Santa Claus, if there evah be one, is a fat, Michael-Jackson-elf-fondlin, reindeer-fuckin, bitch, who ain't nevah give jack shit to me! Fuck 'im and the reindeer he rode in on! Peace!

Tyler: My dad used to say, before he told me that there was no Santa Claus, that if I left him cookies and beer, instead of milk, that he'd be at our house first the next year. He's so weird sometimes.

11/24/04 == 12/20/04 == 12/21/04 == 12/30/04 == 01/31/05 == 02/10/05 == 02/14/05 == 05/18/05 == 07/25/05 == 09/01/05 == 10/24/05 == 12/22/05 == 07/20/06 == 10/31/06 == 02/07/07 == 07/13/07 == 12/18/07