The Many Faces of Manny Faces

Occasionally, I see really interesting things, sometimes music-related things, and I am tempted to post them here. But than I say to myself, “no, this is not that kind of blog”. I mean let’s face it, among several blogs I read, there are several top items that are found on all of them, just in a different order. I figure that so many of the blogs that are written to be read by the masses, are really just re-dishing the same daily information to their audiences. So I figure, if you want to see that reeally cool item that I saw, you will… Just not here. This is not that kind of blog.

So then, what is this blog for? Well, here are three possibilities:

1. I have an illusion of grandeur.
Somehow, I am really starting to believe my self-hype. That I am loved, respected and followed by legions (or at least semi-legions) of fan, worldwide, who want nothing more than to get into the mind of Manny Faces. Follow my emerging career much like my father, (who is a retired Sociology professor but has always been a repressed radio jock), fondly remembers his college days when he was following the-largely-unknown B.B. King, even interviewing the blues man and predicting his subsequent breakthrough and ascension into musical history. Certainly I receive emails and MySpace messages from people who genuinely seem to dig what I do, enjoy the personality I put into and behind the remixes, and marketing, and photoshopped images. These folks just actually might be interested in a little behind-the-scenes look at what could be the blossoming of a successful and wealthy music producer, or might end up being a woulda-coulda-shoulda-been who eventually fades off into the twilight of his production career, leaving behind a final blog posting, electronically signaling his departure from the pursuit of happiness that has been a companion of his throughout his adolescent and adult life. This blog could even be considered an e-reality show, that exists to entertain people for no other reason than it provides a serial look at segments of the life and times of a stranger, one who does something somewhat interesting, one who could end up being someone other than who he is to his family and friends co-workers. One who might actually end up living up to his illusion of grandeur.

2. This is self-medication.
The fact is, I don’t have a lot of friends. There is Hunni of course, but she, especially now, is busy, as she takes on the admirable task of achieving her Master’s Degree. There are a couple of homies I grew up with, but neither are in the area, and thus, our communications have become seasonal at best. There are work buddies from the last job or 2, who I IM a lot, stroll by to see during lunch, and always promise to go to whatever party/event/happy hour they continue to invite me to, but I never do. No, I am a focused man, focused on my day job, my family, and my Manny Faces persona. But I am a complex dude, (even if it is entirely possible that I create my own complexities) who has dealt with, and continue to deal with, a lot of harsh and stressful… stuff! And perhaps, falling deeper into the role of Manny Faces, sharing more of me/him than just the marketing angle and email blasts, gives me a chance to sneak in some “non-Manny” feelings. Just to get them off my e-chest. Even if no one cares. Even if there is no one reading. This is my journal, it let’s me vent, even if I rarely do, but it’s there if I need it. But I’m not exactly into the idea, so I pepper in a lot of Manny stuff and sprinkles of non-Manny stuff, just so I don’t feel foolish because essentially, I have a fancy diary. As in, “This is lame. A diary. I might as well color my computer pink, and put Hello Kitty stickers all over it.) No, this gets to be called a ‘blog’ and since it’s all abut Manny Faces, it’s simply a calculated marketing ploy to enhance my web presence n a way that will attract attention to my musical abilities and blah, blah, blah. Well, this is probably partly true, may even have been the impetus for starting it up in the first place. But maybe it is also a weird form of therapy. I believe the word is catharsis. And for me, because of all the stuff, it might just be helpful. Necessary even. As long as I don’t overdose.

3. I am not going to make it in music.
So, while I have what might be considered a somewhat decent career in the real world (I have health insurance. Isn’t it weird how THAT is becoming a new plateau that only the very gainfully employed is able to achieve these days? With leases and high-interest car loans, anyone can drive a Benz now, but damn, ‘You got health, yo?? You must be gettin’ paaaiiid!’) Anyway, this day-job life I lead is essentially business management. While I never actually completed college (I went for about two.. or three… minutes), I’ve worked long enough and am lucky/blessed/ambitious/intelligent enough to have been able to learn a thing or three and be able to apply it to a managerial job in graphic design and marketing firms, which is where I reside during the daylight hours. But I would give it all up for the right production deal, or even a similar position in the entertainment industry that I enjoy so much. However, the odds are against me on both counts, and the likelihood is that I will not be Manny Faces for much longer. That Manny will retreat into the nether reaches of my mind, relegated to the same mental Old-Thoughts Home where my imaginary friends (oddly, a man named Man, a dog named Dog, a dragon named Dragon… I was apparently much less creative as a kid.. When I relayed this information to my workmates recently, and during the subsequent laughter, I made the mistake of saying, “Well, what can I tell you.. But we all hung out, like a gang”… to which Jason says, “What was the gang’s name? Gang?” HA. Funny Jason. Damn you, but funny.) Anyway, I digress. The point here is that the other other thing I like to do, and have had minor, but promising success with, is writing. My previous employment found me at a newspaper, where I was managing graphic artists, but had the ability to, more than occasionally, write articles for the paper. I was even co-columnist of a very blog-like lifestyle column. I enjoyed it, I seemed to be good at it, and the aforementioned college professor father, who is likely the most intelligent and wisest man I know, has always praised and pushed me as a writer. So, my thinking is, while now I am able to write for pleasure, I can shake the rust off a little bit, fine-tune my writing skills, and perhaps seek an opportunity or two to build on this ability that I have, that I seem to enjoy. That way, if the day comes when I have been beaten down one too many times from the cruel blows dealt by the juggernaut that is Being A Struggling Artist, I may actually have an outlet where the creative side of me will have something to fall back on. To balance having finally fallen flat on my face.

Well, whatever reason, or more likely, combination of reasons, has led me here, here is where I am. Nice to know that you are here with me, for whatever reason of your own. Unless it is because you are trying to learn all you can about me, so you can stalk me, and I’ll have an accident near your house in the woods, and you’ll nurse me back to health but you’ll tie me up and sledgehammer my ankles so I can’t leave and make me write a book. Then, not so much.

Hm. That reminds me:

4. Because I simply have no life.
It IS Friday night after all. <sigh> Well, such is the life of a pseudo, almost-famous, but-not-really, narcissistic, lonely, complex, confused, music-producing, manager, father, with no friends, a distracted lover and nowhere to be tonight but Blogville.

Welcome to my world.