This photo was taken during a call from a jazz club, firing me for a reason they could not comprehend themselves. 100 thrilled audience members, 1 asshole. One asshole trumps a crowd, so I suggest you become an asshole if you hunger for power. It was time, long ago, for me to separate myself from businesses dependent on total acceptability from the masses. And yet, there is the promise of the steady 100 bucks, a weeks groceries. Is it worth it? I want you to consider this question as it relates to your own inner or outer sobbing manifestations. This photo was taken in 2002, in Sarasota, Florida, while I was living and caring for my mother in that swamp land of escapism. I just found the picture at a friend’s house, the friend who took the picture. He knew that someday I would appreciate the photo. It would teach me something. And it does. How ridiculous to weep over the loss of a negative. It takes many slaps in the face to wake us up. I am happy to have this photo as a reminder that a happy deep sleep in the bosom of the mediocre is not my destiny.