My dream as a musician is to, someday, be a one-hit wonder. I’m on a bit of a hiatus on the local music scene right now because, well, all of that shit is too exhausting. The brand-enhancing and public-facing escapism required to cloak what is a very vulnerable craft doesn’t hold much appeal right now. Too much risk and not enough reward. Still, I’ll never forget when VH1 or MTV did a special on one hit wonders, though I do forget who said something to the effect of, “well, that’s one more hit than most people had!”
I loved that psychological judo throw.
These days, becoming a one-stick wonder holds way more appeal. Especially now that I’m treating my hemophilia prophylactically with one stick a week. It not only gives me normal clotting percentages for about half a week, it also gives Thursday something to hang it’s jimmy hat on outside of Thursday Night Football and my scantily clad, controversial Thirst-Trap Thursday Instagram photo dumps.
I went into the prophy-style change in how I address my bleeding disorder in a decidedly brophy way: arrogant. Machismo’d. Foolishly overconfident. That’s because my treatments as of late had been of the one-stick-wonder variety. Much preferred over the human pin cushion situations that can occur. Which is exactly what happened when I started the new routine. I thought I knew how to stick myself like the back of my hand but, suddenly, I was all thumbs when it came to sticking my favorite target…
Which is literally the, uh, back of my hand.
One of the greatest movie quotes for the bleeding disorders community came in 1987’s Arnold spectacular, Predator. “I ain’t got time to bleed,” Jesse Ventura uttered before (SPOILER ALERT) being torn limb-from-limb and drained of all of his life force. It resonated because we all heard it and felt it as: “I ain’t got time to treat a bleed.”
So what happened yesterday, when I stuck myself?
I actually got it on the first try after last week’s four-bagger. And barely a drop of blood was on the band-aid when I took it off. Perhaps the cleanest stick and infusion I’ve ever experienced firsthand jab.
I’ve been texting one of my Godparents, Sean Strub, blood art every Thursday in honor of our dearly departed friend and artist, Barton Lidice Beneš. Barton famously used his own HIV positive blood in his works, and I thought that was coolest thing I’d ever heard. I was also immensely thankful when he let me use his art for the cover of a compilation of music I produced in 1997 called The Daniel Murphy Project; the first compilation of music by HIV positive artists. Oh, hey, there’s a copy on Ebay.
Daniel Murphy, who I didn’t know, had hemophilia and contracted HIV via tainted blood products. After he passed, his family wanted to honor him by offering grants to HIV positive artists to educate and combat stigma. Much time has been spent recently digging out old press clippings of Gwenn and I’s work as HIV educators, and I’d love to honor that accomplishment by posting the music.
Heck, now that I think about it, producing the first compilation of HIV positive musicians at age 22 (with a lot of help, thank you Marci Geller and Steve Schalchlin!) is my one-hit wonder. Even though the reach was limited to thousands of radio listeners on World AIDS Day, 1997, that’s still thousands more than most people get, am I right?
Low-key, one of my prouder moments is not including my own music** on that compilation. I’d not yet found the courage to sing, and I remember listening to some instrumental tunes I’d written. I can’t believe I was wise enough to know that the music I’d been sent was above and beyond what I was capable of at the time. Also, hemophilia was already represented in Daniel’s spirit, which guided the journey.
So, without blood to work with, I wanted to keep my streak of texting Sean on Thursdays alive as part of my ritual. Elated that I’d had an easy go of it, I went to my room for this photo shoot in front of the improved-mood light my psychologist provided for me. The result?
“Fist Bump From Beyond” by P. Decker Fungi*
I wrote: “Dedicated to the lil thinblooded fellas that didn’t get the chance to fully bask in a Aging Day yesterday.”
Alright, as honesty and vulnerability dictate my desire to write, I must confess that I’m at the point where I’m about to copy/paste this out of the Blog and put it in my Drafts folder never to be seen, edited or read again. I don’t want to do that anymore. I also read something I wrote last week, pulling it from the Drafts and exposing it to daylight.
With Halloween spirit growing and aisles being flooded with decor, I’m happy to report that the writing didn’t burst into flames like a vampire. So, as I bravely hit Publish, I hope this finds you all well and brave in your own journeys- this special journey worth living that we call life.
Positively Yours,
Shawn
* P. Decker Fungi is the art alias I’ve been using since high school. Artist P. Buckley Moss, who recently passed, was from Waynesboro. One day I hope to release a coffee table book of Fungi’s greatest works.
**By the way, here is one of the best songs I’ve ever written. From 2019. I wanted to write something painfully honest about how I was feeling at the time, and I’m thankful to Alan Siegler for his production skills in making this easier on the ears. Aside from lending his studio genius, Alan also wrote the killer synth solo in “Happier”- the chef’s kiss and something that really brings the whole song together.