2018 was a dangercunt.

I was fresh out of a relationship of five years in which I had become a legendary enabler.  I had ballooned up to 297 pounds from sitting at my computer, stuffing my face, doing battle with pretty much everyone who might have an opinion that differed from mine.  As an unapologetic bullshit-caller, I wasn’t allowed to let that shit slide.  Being a severely mentally ill man in his 40s carried a lot of responsibility.  Life was war and I would fight bravely.

My laughable musical career was everything but dead in the water.  No one fucking cared.  And I was making it worse.  I was so hellbent on being disliked that 98% of the populace wouldn’t even give my art chance.  My despicable attitude was outshining the music in a massive way.  Not only did I have the courage to be disliked, but I made for absolute sure I wouldn’t be.

Something clicked in 1998.  Perhaps it was the guy at Freshco in Hamilton telling me I looked like Penn Gilette, and in his defense I actually did.  That may have been the iconic moment but I’m not sure it was.

To make a long story even longer I decided to put Doug Hell to bed.  It was a year after breaking Facebook fighting with Wednesday 13 and all his fans.  Some here will remember.  But that’s another story for another day.  And you best believe it’s a story.

So sometime in September of 2018, Jimmy Vapid reached out to me and asked me if I could host a show in Oshawa.  I had just moved back to town the previous month.  At the time I was a month into my torrid weight loss and self-improvement journey.  That seemed like an optimal time to throw my last show as Doug Hell.  Oh that.  For some crazy reason I believed that Doug Hell had to die in order for Doug Hill to get on with his life.  November would be my death.  A show with Flesh Rag, and Noble Savages seemed like a good way to go.

The show itself was decently attended.  There were a lot of faces who were the usual suspects.  There were about ten people I didn’t even recognize.

It was members of the Canadian Military.  No lie.  One of my mixed tapes somehow made it to their barracks and they fucking loved it.  This tape was well travelled apparently even making its way to Afghanistan.  I couldn’t fucking believe it.  Apparently I was a meme too.  They called the TV a Doug Hellivision.  They called their friend, Doug Hellis.  There were Doug Hell flyers everywhere apparently.  Even on their girlfriends’ wall.

It was the greatest night of my life.  I learned a few things.  These guys had no idea who I was.  But they revered me.  I think them not actually knowing what a despicable malcontent I was and hearing the music first was a game changer.   I was really dumb and constantly gatekeeping my music up to that point.  In fact the tape that even made it to them was one of a kind.  The only one in existence.  They loved a song that was never officially released.

So going forward I guess I’m going to be less a dick about everything when it comes to music.  A lot more effort is going to go into my records.  There is not one record in my past I’ve been proud of.  Not one.  And they just seem to be getting worse.  This weekend I’m going to record one with Hack and it’s going to shine.  There will be songs that have been left behind.

I’ve written songs that have been covered by some of my favourite bands and musicians.  My song, Scream (repackaged as Back Alley Dentist) made it on the latest Green Jelly record, Garage Band Kids.  Or is it Garbage Band Kids?  I can never remember.  Don’t care.  I’ve played at CBGBs.  I have a lot of experiences I do take a little pride in.

But all of those things pale in comparison to the night the military showed up at one of my concerts.

To me that will forever be the day the music lived.

It’s me!

The boys with my flyer at their barracks!