more bad news- never touring again

0 Comments 27 May 2017

My live record came out on Friday, May 26th. It got as high as #2 on the iTunes comedy charts, which was pretty cool. I have a million people to thank but I’m going to limit it to three people here. Thanks to JT Habersaat for dragging me out of retirement. Thanks to Genevieve Rice for saying “No, you’re a comic” and sticking me in the Bird City Comedy Festival so I had to write jokes. Thanks to Josh McClane, without whom the live record never would have happened.

It was supposed to come out a month earlier but wound up coming out on the 8th anniversary of my sobriety. It was a pretty cool day— the president of Invisible Hands Music picked me up in a tiny plane and flew me from Cardiff to York and we didn’t die (barely). It felt pretty triumphant to be making a living playing music in a foreign country on the anniversary of my death and rebirth. I titled the record Never Touring Again because I’m hilarious and because I’ll always tour, right? Well, not so fast.

I have been feeling like dogshit for a while now. Depressed and worn-down and listless… but not just road-weary. Like there’s something else going on. A couple of times, I’ve been walking down the street and had a sudden flash of vertigo, like my head was a fish tank someone just bumped into. It always resolves pretty quickly but that’s not normal. I turned 40 in February and went out and ran a marathon I wasn’t trained for and gave myself a grueling case of sciatica that made my trip out to Bisbee/ Phoenix for Bird City Comedy an odyssey of pain, exhaustion and Advil. As I’m now officially old and haven’t been to the doctor for a while, I forced myself to go in for routine bloodwork.

I met with my doctor before I left for England. Not great news. I’m pre-diabetic and, as my doctor delicately put it, I have “the testosterone of a 70 year old man.” I knew I was at risk for diabetes as it runs in my family and I just lost my godfather to it, but I had no idea I was barreling straight for it. The testosterone thing, yeah, that kinda blindsided me.

First, yes, bring on the dick jokes, ALL the dick jokes. I’ve found out a lot of things about testosterone in the last month. Turns out testosterone is only part of your sex drive, and your sex drive is only part of what testosterone does. Since, after waning for a couple of years, my sex drive has dropped from “obnoxious” to merely “annoying,” at first I was like fuck it, if it means my gf and I can finally watch a movie all the way through at home, then who cares? But low testosterone increases your risk of osteoporosis and heart disease, your memory falters, and your mood tanks. My depression is bad enough without having something else ruining it, and I have too much shit left to do for my head and body to stop working now.

I’m going to fulfill my meager touring obligations for August and September and then I won’t be booking any shows on the road until April or May of 2018. I refuse to go on hormone therapy at 40 (as that means I’ll be on it the rest of my life) and I refuse to just capitulate to diabetes. Instead, I’m going to radically transform my diet, exercise habits, sleep schedule… everything. And I can’t do that when I’m on the road. I’ll be making Atlanta my home come late June/ early July with infrequent trips to NYC and CA to visit friends and family. 

It’s been two years since I’ve had a home of my own. It’s been an amazing experience, I’ve made so many friends and experienced so much kindness. But to keep going at the pace I have been would just be destructive and dumb.

Thanks for supporting live music and comedy and art in a culture that is circling rapidly around the drain. You guys mean more to me than I can say. 

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