This is long. I am disabled and moments of clarity are few now, so I tried, maybe too much, to get this all down. It is one years worth of pain, poverty and where did all my friends go? Yikes. Print it out and read it at under the shade next time you are poolside. You could be in it! I named names, forgive me. I am desolate and sending out an SOS.
Or let me know if I forgot u and you SHOULD be in it??? ha. it's already too long, dude.
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People that listen to me rock on the BIG 1, 2 XU get to hear the official worlds oldest and longest college radio DJ play a mellifluous variety of the best college rock hits of the past 50 years. I was born in 1959 and have been doing college radio on over 15 stations since punk broke, since I graduated high school in '77. Lately, since exactly this time last year in fact, you have also got to hear me slur my speech, become utterly senseless, leave during halftime and talk about things DJs generally keep to themselves.
I have been an opiate addict for one year now, thanks to KAISER PERMENENTE. You know those guys that throw up millions of billboards that say "THRIVE" all over CA? Thats what I pay for. ACtually, what my medicade pays for, since I have been completely disabled ever since my upper back FELL into my lower back on Aug 20, 2007. I've been in excruciating pain. I went from morphine to now, methadone, which the NEW YORK TIMES headlined yesterday; "Thousands of new deaths due to improper prescription of cheap methadone." That's me. Have you seen Michael Moores SICKO? thats me. It's a wonder then, that I do manage to get through 95 percent of my shows. I am in a lot of pain and due to the methadone, sick and woozy.
The doctor don't know, but long ago I have cut my methadone down to half of what they think I am on. My disability used to pay the rent and bills, but ever since the WRITERS STRIKE (umm... did any of them TV shows get any better? I know, that wasn't the issue. In fact, the writing has deteriorated to base dick jokes for all I can see.( re: 2 1/2 men? Jeezus)) I was doing fine, all the nessesary money in the bank, until I had to borrow what was essentially a grand a month, which is the minimal amount to make it thru the month just to have food and gas. I haven't gone to a STORE to SHOP for many many years, mind you.
When I called the Dr and said I would rather deal with pain MY WAY, which is- I swim, up at the ROSE BOWL Aquatic center for almost 2 hours a day, (another luxury i accord myself,) he said "You're not a drug addict! You are on a proper prescription. Methadone is a GREAT DRUG!" Great for him, not me. Its cheap. Until big fat pig RUSH LIMBAUGH ruined the dispensing of OXYCONTININ for everyone, (remember? Fatso had to pop 50 a day until they made them illegal for everyone now.) Now everyone who lives with severe pain must make it thru the day with nausea, slurred speech, (Great for radio! Hey isn't that the DRUNK DJ again???") and feeling half asleep and half on speed. Also, we have just discovered that MIXING meth with other downers (anti depressants like TRAZADONE and ATIVAN which they also threw me on at KAISER) is, in a word, DEADLY.
Not to overburden you, dear listener and reader, but my life has been made very difficult by the very people who want you to THRIVE. The pain is compounded by emotional problems caused by the loss of friends. AS SOON as I fell into disrepair, everyone, i tell you, friends I have known over 35 years simply told me I had become "Angry," "Difficult" and "Annoying." There is no one here to push the wheelchair if i want to attend Sunset Junction. Peter Bowles is off with his Quaker Group praying for world peace and an end to war, Richard Tanner is busy with his personal daily meditation where he sits elevated beyond the rest of us, specially me, a drug addict in his eyes. He basically split on day 2 of my condition so fast all I saw was a blur. People.
Lindsay and Tucker have their problems of their own but I do miss them after 28 years of knowing. Please, don't get me going. Out of say 20 friends I had, here in LA exactly no one isleft. Tom, the twin brother of Nick takes me out with the wheelchair from time to time but it is hard to live alone, loveless, whatnot, but not even having a friend, 'specially when you are sick is almost impossible. But i do it. I could go on and on about this which causes the most pain- other people. I know this is already too long to qualify as a BLOG, so I will only mention a couple examples of this emotional pain I suffer. I have nothing left to lose, this writing is an embarresing last resort, but I'm plumb out of idea's...
Max. my friend and my roommate of the past year and a half left in June. He hasn't called or even returned my email. Leni, up the hall, who I've known since 1986, physically assaulted me because she was mad when the traffic dept towed her car, the one with flat tires that has been outside our door for 8 months. (I had nothing to do with it!) She hip checked me into the fence and I spent the afternoon in the Emergency room, sucking up more painkiller. Her passive/aggressive stance she took with me after my birthday party, when one of "my guests" was accused of stealing some FILE CABINET from the hallway (??), (Which the landlord actually put down in the cellar, no thank YOU) has become overt, aggressive and violent. She knows that I am disabled. Max knows I have been dumped by my close friends, Matt was one person left, but when he came over to help me with the computer- that was it, I haven't seen or heard from him, now for 2weeks. I fed him and plied him with gifts from my collection as I have no money to pay for computer repair. The computer now, is left in worse shape. I hope this posts correctly.
In the end though, I do realize, dear reader, that for some reason, which still has yet to present itself, that it must be completley my fault. How could 20+ people who don't really even know of each other reacted the same way toward me? The answer is it must be me! On the other hand, do consider, when I got myself in this CONDITION (Spondylyosithesis of the lumbar, c 1 thru 5) I did enter a very strange new world. A cold world of minority status. It's worse than waking up one morning and finding out you are a cockroach, like a KAFKA novel. I have entered the desolate world of the most hated minority of all. The handicapped. Consider this. I'm not making it up...
I was dumped by my Psychiatrist! At Kaiser (Co pay went up from 10 to 20 dollars, needed to pay for more billboards) I had a total bi polar breakdown, during a psychiatric session. I couldn't speak because I, a grown man, broke down totally and couldn't stop crying. My psychiatrist, Victor Para hasn't called me since. He didn't call me the day after I left his office, unable to speak let alone stand up. That was 3 months ago. He, you see, is a "professional." He knows about the pain, the abandonment, the fact that I can't work and have become in a word- indigant. Or the other word, Destitute.
He also knows I am filled with humor and do my best to put one step in front of the other, get the fuck out of bed and get by from day to day. Apparently, he hasn't seen an actual bipolar EPISODE and it must of scared the shit out of him. My friend of 38 years LIAM in got a whiff of my mania back in December. He is a big lawyer now. He used to help me in court and to this date I have won many cases against nefarious banking institutions and businesses. He no longer speaks to me. And the DAY i became riddled with pain, my best friend in LA skipped a merry skip and headed for the nearest exit. Another one that meditates and is in touch with some very far away God that tells the newly healed to tell others to "Let it go..."
But a psychiatrist? You would think a professional would know at least the minimal way to make someone feel a little LESS bad? Call, pretend you give a shit. I did not get that from KAISER. They want to lock me up. Right now they have me down as "Acute psychotic" and drug addict, which I only am, because of them. When I was there last week in the ER I saw "Suicidal in the notes," too. Their big smartypants jump-to, not mine. My problem is, I want to LIVE. Death, I'm sure, is cold, lonely and even worse than this, space I currently find myself residing in.
I try to deal with the fact that Central casting has no more jobs for me. I used to have to turn down acting and extra gigs but now I work about twice a month. SAG, the union for billionaires, but comprised 95percent of people who live below any sensible poverty line, that live in cars, not even trucks, outside my window, WITHOUT the benefit of SSDI checks like me, wants to strike and take away any HOPE of work for the next few months. Being disabled is not just about the pain, it's the struggle to get out of bed when you haven't worked all month, (thanks to SAG, thank the WRITERS) when you have no one to call, nothing but your life to look back on... Ahh.... the good times. What happened? THAT was quick. I'm 49 wondering if I will make it to 50.
55 would be a miracle, not so much because of the pain, but the methadone poisoning, mixed with the prescibed downers. It says right there in the NY times article THAT is certian death. Oh well. The Doctor put me on it, so it must be OK. Can Michael moore put together part 2? I have enough comedy for SON OF SICKO.
I don't know if I have any friends left, most live far far away. I don't know how, but lets not go crazy. Lets just calm down and make do. I am constantly underwater, stretching, stroking, swimming out the pain. I feel alive and real again when I DJ on the KXLU. Once i ween myself off the Heroin, (oops- meth. Herion is much easier to withdraw from) I can get back to experiencing spondylolisthesis of the LUMBAR in all its glory. 4 out of the lower 6 disks in the back have nothing in between them. They have, in a sense crushed together, sending shock waves of pain to every place in the body except my head and (thank God) Penis, which works just fine, now that I kicked the anti-depressents. If i conitnued with those, I would be dead by now.
My theory and the general theory is- the METH has reached its TOLERANCE level, like the MORPHINE I was taking before it. What I'm experiencing when you hear me on the air or when you see me on set trying to stand with a cane, (Dude, i can't stand for more then 3 min's max) is PAIN and the effects of METH. It was nice to read the article in this weeks NEW YORK TIMES that many of my KXLU listeners sent me when I was on the air this past week. I decided to write this and call out a couple (there's MORE!) of the people who made me feel worse than I should, because in the video that accompanied the on line NYT article a woman talks about how she LOST ALL HER FRIENDS. ME TOO. For the first time, I see this in print. Alas, some one else said it! So, it's not just me. You, go looky yourself:
C:\Users\peterchoyce\Desktop\Methadone Rises as a Painkiller With Big Risks - NYTimes_com.mht.
It seems the video is gone, but the woman in the article said that on the accompanying companion utube video. I was actually astounded and actually relieved to hear some one else say it. What is that? I never imagined that in my middle years suddenly I would be in pain and without any friends. But it happened. Dude, I can't say it would happen to you. You probably have better friends to begin with. Lets hope.
I yearn for friendship, closeness, intimacy- so I told a man I met on set the other day that I would rather DATE than GO HOME (to have some kind of quicky sex) as he (and most gays) wanted, with him. I can't be bothered, at this point, apparently late in my life, (I've felt very close to death all thru 2008) to have what I call "Frivolous intimacy," I asked instead if he would like to be my friend after I cooked him dinner and drove him home. That was yesterday. This morning I realized that he put his name in my phone but, ta dah! no number. Silly me... If you meet a gay, you are supposed to get down with them then and there or thats it. They don't come back. Unless you have drugs. Unless you can help them in their quest to become famous. LA really sucks, much more than any other place on earth.
"Who are you and what can you do for me?" When you are in a wheelchair the answer is obvious. Still I can play your BAND on the radio. But I don't. Thats why my show is good! I never did that and still don't. (play friends bands!)
I will close this post by thanking everyone I can. A listener, GREG from Mendocino paid my RENT for me this month. I can't tell you how much the kindness of strangers has helped me thru this awful period in what was a burgeoning, creative life. I'd like to thank Larry May in Ireland for his continued friendship. James, (the second oldest and perhaps hardest working college radio DJ in the world today, who is ALMOST as good, maybe better, than ME, on the Z, JC who shops w me, CALEB ROCHESTER for lending me 800 dollars (all paid back now!) but then he went and moved to PHILLY, leaving me with no best friend. Thanks also to Coleegeth Expansure for coming over and finishing sewing up the computer so its now back to the state it was in, use able, but really still just a glorified EMAIL MACHINE. And now HE is leaving for Brooklyn. I'm up shits creek trying to figure out this very b€asic laptop on my own.
Thanx to Sandra in SF for her help when I was assaulted by a robber this past winter who destroyed my last computer. I guess while I'm at it; thanx thanx thanx, too- Tim K, steve H in NC and oldest and dearest of all, Victor V the psychic turntable and the wonder of the world, Julie, who came to visit last Christmiss. Who else? God, now I'm in a jam. And this is getting, so so long. shit.
I also want to say that KXLU is worth the 20 dollars i don't have in gas. It reminds me of when my life was a creative life, when i had an audience, and the music elevates me and diminishes the pain. Everyone there has also, been very kind and puts up with my "crazy behavior" In fact, this is the THIRD TIME that Lydia hasn't fired me!!! I hope I didn't leave anyone out, like Lauren, Megan, Josh, Tyler 2 million (who calls me first for fill ins!,) Maki, who once took me to dinner, Octavious, Laura on the barrio, SEAN,the dirty mop and all the other nice kids up there.
I mean my mother still calls, but none of the other 8 siblings. Oh, Amy in Boston, who sends things (like money) and the other MAX, naked MAX H who I am paying back for lending me lots of money to make it thru the LAST strike. I have no idea how to get thru the current one. That will be my next post. MY BIRDS EYE view of SAG with all it's corruption and WHY Productions no longer want to film in LA. How they are killing not just me, but many marginal people who live near the edge.
Thanx for reading. Do feel free to postez vous a comment. Anything will do. The smallest thing makes me happy and makes me feel relevant in a world that is obsessed with the SELF and has become a really hard place to live. It's a strange thing, going from completley able bodied to being a DISABLED, handicapped person. The whole world changed. And I ate right and exercised sensibly all my life.
So thats the awful truth. This is the first time, a year since it happened that I managed to write about it. I mean, as NEGATIVELAND says; "It's not even funny!"
If you want to know when i next ROCK, do contact me at PETERCHOYCE@Yahoo.com and i will put you on my "Fun list!"
All is forgiven, Sheba, come home!!