Or I got fired.  I’m not sure.

Either way it was time.  No one is really in Green Jelly.  Bill Manspeaker is in Green Jelly.  It’s Bill and simps from all over the world who work for free under the guise of Bill providing actuality to their rock star dreams.

I’m still a fan of 90s Green Jelly.  For the most part I’m a fan of people in Green Jelly.  But the entity itself doesn’t really have anything of meaning to me anymore.  Late last year I cringed when I noticed we had a show coming up this April.  Touring with Green Jelly is not a good time for someone like me.  I love being at home too much.  Even playing locally is very taxing.

I said I would do it if I could at least break even, and I did a little better than that.

Green Jelly is not for me.  Canadian audiences have dwindled measurably.  I don’t think we’ve ever played for more than 20 people.

So now to secure something of an audience, any Tom, Dick, and Harry is invited to be a part of the band.  Unfortunately the band always ends up being bigger than the audience.  Then when you have gigantic puppet heads knocking into you and your air is being breathed by people who don’t actually know how to play.  It’s just uninspiring.  It’s too high of a price to pay to spend time with people you love.

There is also the small matter of me liking to kick ass.  I don’t want to stumble and bumble around.  I like being tight and well rehearsed.  And that’s why I joined the Liquor Pigs.

I have no animosity to anyone in Green Jelly.

Now for the accountability part.  The last 6 months have been harrowing.  Being completely clean, sober, and medicated has really shone a light down on myself.  There are casualties in my life from a different time when I was incredibly emotionally immature.  I mean, I’m still emotionally immature but not too emotionally immature to not be concerned about it.

I have new dreams and goals.  Not one of them involve music.  That ship has sailed.  I’ve far exceeded all my musical goals.  But the problem is, a lot people suffered as a result.  And I can’t even amend them.  Nor do I warrant their forgiveness.

My dreams now involve not being a complete fucking douchebag.  My dreams involve taking the high road when attacked, as opposed to smiting in return.  I’m done arguing.  I’m done being abusive.  I’m done listening to abuse.  I’m fucking 50.  I’m too old now to amend my past.  All I can do going forward is be the best version of myself.

Thanks for hanging out, guys.

DH