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From then on, I’d sneakily follow Hill around to his comedy gigs throughout the city, sitting alone in dark corners and silently swooning, before dashing out of the club without being seen.
It’s weird, I know, and unfortunately, it’s also true. I never really thought about writing a book while growing up because, yeah, I was pretty focused on rocking people and and/or honoring my 1/4 Canadian roots by becoming a pro hockey player.
My own nakedness aside, I still maintain a healthy curiosity about other people getting naked. I think the two essays about nakedness in my book are mostly about crossing that line from fantasy into harsh reality and — ultimately — boner-wilting disappointment.
With writing and comedy, I just like to bake the brownies. With music though, it’s kind of like I’m baking the brownies because I totally want to stuff my face with them later- I want to stick around for the final outcome. I guess if I had to choose though, I’d say maybe the last chapter about the death of my mother, “Bunny”. Without even realizing it until after the fact, I didn’t write anything for about two weeks after finishing that one. But with that one, I think I was more focused on figuring out how I really felt about her dying and my feelings on losing her rather than mostly just telling a story.
That’s the fun part for me- I’m not that concerned with eating them. That essay kind of ended up making sense of the book for me in the end.
Aside from hopefully being entertaining and stuff, I think the book ended up being about my becoming a man and becoming comfortable with who I am and not being anyone’s kid anymore, just being me.
I think in terms of trying to make the music I wish existed and I might later be into cranking around my apartment or listening to when I borrow my dad’s car.
In that way, I’m still really only interested in entertaining myself, but I like to stick around a bit more for the outcome.