The Severed Ties That Bind

My leaving the band has been a ridiculous and redundant effort of selective hearing, drunken memory losses, and creative ignorance. Or, much like the process of getting into the band and the process of being in the band tended to be.

I first notified Mark of my departure 31 days ago, knowing that I wanted to be sure that I gave the guys a full 30 days to figure out the future of our rehearsal space (rent due the 10th each month, and with no drummer paying since last thanksgiving it’s a hefty share, heftier without me). So I paid for the month knowing it would be my last

I told Mark in person at a show on a Saturday, and much like the three-hour epiphany life-talk we had a few months ago, it apparently disappeared into the ethyl, as by Monday his perception was 100% different than it should have been. So I had to do it again, over the phone, in no uncertain terms, and with a bit more anger than I wanted to.

Done and done. Called Chris to make sure he was on the same page.

Against my own better judgment, I went to their acoustic show (long after their set) and got cornered by Mark and drunken lovie-dovied as he tends to do, and he proceeded to introduce me to a producer guy as the bass player in the band. Fine. Then he leans over and fake-whispers “he thinks he’s leaving the band, but we’ll see about that,” in his just-kidding-but-not wink-wink-drink-drink mode.

Um, no. I let it go – it wasn’t my stage – but it was rather evident that he’s not taking this seriously.

So. We get to the 8th of October (earlier tonight), rent is due on the 10th. I go downtown and load about 80% of my gear out of the space. I’ll get the rest later.

As I’m leaving the space, I get the random text message: “Dude, rent is due on the 10th, and we haven’t discussed what we’re going to do, so we need to talk it over.”

Ha.

I texted back: “Are you serious?”

Three of his unanswered texts later, it was pretty evident that he had finally gotten the message from my silence.

I’ll have the last of my gear out tomorrow, and it will end. I hope. Its not personal, I hope, still, but I need this to move on, more than ever.

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