Devotion (Earth, Wind, and Fire)

At the age of twenty-two, I seemed awfully young but felt I lived enough for ten people. I had done enough damage that it was time to say goodbye to some vices in my life. These were big steps for me. I never thought I would do it. It went from bad, to worse, to straight up fuckery. My life had become a pattern of bad choices, bad people, and always peering over my shoulder. The true friends I had were gone. They couldn’t handle me or what had become of my life. Who needed Shakespeare in the Park when I would arrive? Now here I was, getting my crippled sea legs to walk on land again.

It was July of 2007 when this transformation occurred. They said drink as much coffee and smoke as many cigarettes as you want. I never smoked really, so I just loaded up on coffee. Hell, it was still better than the speed I had taken to lose weight. Sitting at the diner, I was slurping down another cup of coffee. I had just done a comedy spot and was crying because I was having trouble getting my rhythm onstage sober. Oh and everyone decided to remind me what an asshole I was when I drank. Far from the child my mother raised and lost, I bemoaned my life to a group of new friends. They knew Bill and Bob, friends of mine along the way. As they entertained my young and stupid, the song “Devotion” began playing. A drop top with an ethnically ambiguous couple drove by. The song was slow, smooth, and relaxing. It was serenity and peace, something you don’t know after your 8^th cup of coffee.

 “Isn’t that the Temptations?” I asked.

“No, it’s Earth, Wind, and Fire. Of course a young, white girl would get them confused.” The black queen said sipping his coffee. He eyed me up and down with a mix of curiosity and contempt. His voice was low and languid just like the music. He said his name was Lenox just like the Avenue. Lighting his cigarette, he puffed into the night. Adding to the smog that was New York in the summer, I could feel us all reaching an early grave. Our stupid choices hadn’t killed us, maybe all the second hand smoke would.

“They all wear similar outfits and have Afros. How the hell was I to know.” I replied.

To my pleasant surprise Lenox laughed. “This is very true. However, they would know how to do their lipstick and keep it in the lines.” Damn that hurt.

“Snappedy snap!” Someone yelled. It was a Puerto Rican kid who’s name I didn’t get and who disappeared after that night.

The whole table laughed now. “Maybe a more neutral shade is all I am saying.” Lenox said taking another puff of his cigarette. As a black queen, he fearlessly rocked pink. He styled hair and was obsessed with clothing. “However, I will forgive this. We could still possibly be friends. However, if you had confused the Supremes with the Vandellas, there would never be a chance, Child.”

Time went on and that summer scene became a mere memory. Things got worse as I really had to come to terms with who I was. Instead of being cool and tough like the potential girlfriend to The Marlboro Man, I was more or less a dork. I had no skills when it came to men. The fact I had left a man who hit me and made me give up my dreams also left me with some trust issues. It also left me doubting my talents as a ventriloquist and comedian. Of course there was the fact I was always on thin ice with my boss…..

Things got better. People began to see I was growing up and doors began to open. I saw I was a good puppeteer and could do shows for all ages easily. That it was okay to be sensitive, hell sometimes it is one of my best qualities. I am coy as hell when it comes to dudes, and sometimes they think it’s adorable. I also had friends who for the most part obeyed the law. So yeah.

Then things got real. Some of my friends didn’t leave the lifestyle. I saw them continue to be tornados in the paths of those they crossed, and continually screw up their own lives. The rest of us grew up as they stayed jogging in place. Then there were those who experienced the joys of homelessness and jail. Finally, there were those who the lifestyle claimed. Yes, I know people who have overdosed, been murdered, or have taken their own life. Oh and in between there I experienced money problems, career uncertainty, and things not happening on my clock.

However I refused to give up. My puppets became my children and my career my only lover. Through dedication and hardwork, I got on national television not once but several times with my kiddies. I began doing shows for all ages. People recognized me on the street or at gigs from being on TV. I wrote and published a book. As a writer I managed to get my work into places deemed hard to break into and cliquish. As a comedian, I began to do well in front of audiences I never dreamed would like me. I also started doing shows for children in hospitals with my puppets. My same boss who wanted to fire me most of the time years earlier gave me an amazing opportunity because of my writing. I went from looking like hell to selling my own calendar on my website. If I ran into the old April on the street, I probably wouldn’t know her. If I did recognize her, I would probably try to lose her like a welfare mother does her sixth kid that she gets care giver money for.

However, I ran into the old April in several different ways this week. Some of it has been people from my past popping up. Some desperately want to leave the life style but keep getting sucked in. I want to help them, but they don’t want to do what it takes to get out. There is a part of me that feels guilty for not being able to help them. However, I feel selfish because I was able to get out.

This week I also counseled a friend of mine trying to exit a toxic, abusive relationship. She’s got some wreckage in her life. Her best friend and roommate hates her currently. It’s not her fault. The relationship is like a drug. I was there for the both of them. My friend who was in it telling her it’s like a drug, and it’s going to be a while before she feels okay. Also telling her to keep ignoring her ex’s pleas to come back. And her bestie telling her that my bud’s conduct wasn’t personal. The relationship is like a drug. I was also able to tell them there was life afterwards and the answer was to chase your dreams. I know because that’s not only what rescued me, but it’s what pretty much kept me from killing myself.

Last night a comedian friend confided in me he stopped drinking after his life got too crazy. He was feeling good but riding the rollercoaster. I basically told him his comedy would only get better, I know mine did. What I also told my pal was he wouldn’t have to become entangled with crazy women anymore. Oh, and he wouldn’t have to be humiliated the way he was ever again. I encouraged my friend to write more. It would cure his sleeping problem and would keep him sane. I know it’s what helped me, kept me sane, and kept me from blowing my brains out.

Sometimes I beat myself up for not being exactly where I want to be. But I am where I am supposed to be and am doing just fine. If I continue to walk into the light I have a shot of getting there. I can also tell people hell is hot as a mutherfucker, I have been there. I can also tell them that they can get out, I know cause I did.

This morning I was messaged by a booker I worked with during my exit from that lifestyle. He told me he had been following me and how proud he was of all I was doing. That is when it hit me. If I didn’t take the journey I did and didn’t get out, none of what I am doing would even be remotely possible. These days, my big worry is my DVD taping at The Metropolitan Room. Liza Minelli and Joan Rivers perform there. I am sweating to make it all come together. As I headline theatres and chase my punchlines, I am only getting funnier.

My naysayser may call me names and my enemies may use this as ammo against me. Truth be told, for as dysfunctional as the old me was, she is always going to be a part of my fabric. I am not ashamed of her. If anything, I am proud. And haters, please tell me something I didnt know about myself. Those I know who are struggling to get out or lost to the lifestyle, my victories are not merely for myself but for them as well. Just like I want these things for myself, so would they.

In my mind’s eye, I see Lenox with his cigarette, puffing away. I don’t know what happened to him. Word on the street was he fell back into drugs and was homeless last time I heard. In my mind though, he is still robust, funny, and on point. As he ashes his cigarette in my flashback, he quips like he always did, “Fag, they call this that in England.”

Then I hear his deep laugh. The sound always gives me comfort. It is bright and clear as ever as spring is now trying to make an appearance. I say winter is like an ugly girl at a party who is just dampening the place and just won’t leave. Lenox somewhere agrees. He taught me Earth, Wind, and Fire were different from the Temptations. He taught me to keep my lipstick within the liner. As the sunlight hits my skin, I hear “Devotion” from an ambitious, open window. Someone with cabin fever is doing spring cleaning. They are throwing out the bad and keeping the good. It is a sign of growth. It is something we should all do at all times of our lives. It is something that I did once upon a time that changed everything.

 “Thru devotion, blessed are the children.”

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

www.aprilbrucker.com

Come see me at the Metropolitan Room April 22nd at 7pm

Sticks and Stones

About a year ago I made an amends to someone. I said something mean to him when I was in a drunken state. He always held it against me. In true form the guy told me he was glad I was staying away from the sauce and that I seemed to be in a better place with my life. We hugged and it seemed like we were cool again. While we weren’t friends, we never were before or after I was drinking, we weren’t enemies which was the most important thing, right?


Wrong. He turned around and said some very nasty things about me. This person basically said I was mentally disturbed, delusional, untalented, and “obviously had been touched by a male relative at some point.” Not to mention he went out of his way to take other cheap shots about my so called lack of talent and the sexual past that he perceives that I have. This guy also said that I used sexual favors to get where I got and that he is “much more accomplished” than I am. Not to mention he said he didn’t care about me or anything I did yet went around town ranting and raving everytime he could about how much he hates me and how little talent I have. It’s not like it was one or two people. It was a dozen or so who have heard this rant over the past few months. And this post amends mind you.

I guess the worst part was that he claimed I made other people’s problems about myself. Meanwhile he said all these things in response to a beef I had with one of his friends. Since then, me and this dude’s friend have made up and our disagreement is water under the bridge. This dude, being eager to fit in and not the brightest lightbulb in the closet, made this whole disagreement between me and someone else about him and his resentment towards me for absolutely existing.

What triggered this? Well aside from the fact that this guy is a drama seeker, I think it was jealousy. The old April who made bad decisions and was a mess was much more comfortable for him. Suddenly one day I woke up and I changed. No longer was I a perpetual mess but I was doing things with my life. I was on TV a few times. I published a few times. I was on Shovio for a bit. I opened for Aretha Franklin. I have a webseries where Michael Musto, Kate Clinton, Melba Moore, Jo Lance, Harmonica Sunbeam and many others appeared. For better or for worse, I am in the revival of the Gong Show. Not to mention I am pitching one TV series to networks about every other week. Then there is the pilot I shot. Of course there is my book I am writing. Basically things are going okay. I am not bragging though it seems like I am. Rather, I am enjoying the journey.

This person is one who thinks he should be further with his life and career than he is. The sad part about this whole thing is that I am not all the things he said I was. It is the other way around. This individual is a sad, pathetic excuse who wants people to be weaker than him. Not to mention that someone who would take the time to rant and rave about me in this fashion has severe mental problems and needs to seek counseling pronto. Then there is the fact that not only did he make a disagreement between me and another person about himself, but that he took low blows in doing it. This dude is one who needs a serious Al-Anon meeting. Not only does he not have the strength to be his own person, he gets a rise out of being extremely codependent and is a perpetual people pleaser. Then there is the fact that while I used to drink too much, he still does. All and all he is a sad soul and a trainwreck.

Earlier today I felt extremely angered that he threw a part of my life that I am not too happy about in my face. It was like for as much as I changed over the years and worked to get myself to a place where people know I am for real and talk more about my body of art that I create rather than the mess I make in my life, someone will always show up to remind me I am still all those bad things and more. For as much as I have achieved over the years whether it be turning my life around or career victories this person shows up to say, “Hey trainwreck, yeah you.” In my heart for as sick as this person was I wondered if any of the things he said about me were even true and went through every failure I ever had in my life, personal and professional.

It was a hit of cold water in my face. This was something that brought me back to the days when I let guys treat me like a third rate lean cut piece of meat on the rack. Of course it was also common for me to have boyfriends who had served time in prison, had drug problems, or were mentally unstable. Then there was the time I got engaged to a guy on the third date that stalked me and publically humiliated me for two years. Not to mention some of the other winners which included one guy who not only went to prison but managed to escape and live in an abandoned building at one point. As if professing his love wasn’t enough he came to my door asking me for drug money. I dated the worst guys decked out like Tammy Faye Bakker on crystal meth and only skinnier. I worked hard to change that picture of me in people’s eyes and this guy said that he had forgiven me. While he showed me who he was he didn’t let me forget who I was either.

Depressed I went to facebook for support. They say God speaks through people sometimes. One of my facebook friends, Yamaneika Saunders said, “Do NOT let someone get the best of you.” I stopped to think about it. This dude isn’t good enough to even get the worst of me. No matter what people say, I know in my heart that I have changed. I know in my heart I am not a mess anymore. This dude doesn’t have the right to make me upset and to make me cry. He’s a bully with no self esteem and is a ball of negative energy. Therefore he has no metaphorical money to rent space in my head and no right to ruin my life. With that in my mind I wiped my eyes, applied my mascara, and decided he wasn’t going to ruin that either.

They say people who matter don’t judge, and people who judge don’t matter. I know in my heart he doesn’t matter. Those who truly do matter have not only seen that I have mended my ways but have given me another chance. For the most part I have not let them down and in return they have been wonderful friends who have served as guides when I needed them. In addition, they have been vocal about telling other people that I have changed as well. Slowly and surely I did earn their trust which has taken work. It wasn’t easy but I still did it.

While this whole thing did hurt this morning, it doesn’t hurt this afternoon or this evening. Rather in a way it is a lesson that the better I get with my life and the more clarity I achieve with my head, it is a threat to some people. These people were ones who liked to see the old April sick and suffering so they could take advantage of her instability and make it a joke amongst their friends. At the time I thought some of these people were friends just like the kid with Down’s Syndrome who gets candy from the older kids for not ratting them out for smoking in the bathroom. However, the tables have turned. The old April is gone, dead, and buried. There is a new girl in town. She is not going to let words, especially from those that don’t matter, hurt her. Get used to it bitches. Love April