End of the Trail

Is this the end of an illustrious semi-career?

I'm quitting both of the bands I'm in after this weekend's gigs. Actually I don't even know why we call them "gigs," because we never get paid. Sometimes we have to drive significant distances to work these counterfeit "jobs," and even to rehearse. That, and the fact that I don't play as well as I used to are sufficient reasons for packing it in.

It's hard to recall that I used to make a living -- a pretty good living at times -- playing drums and singing. Those were the hectic and intoxicated days in Alaska when we worked, drank, sang, and foolishly celebrated our good fortune. How times have changed.

Now life is harder but more sober, lived cautiously as opposed to prodigally, and parsimonious rather than lavish. Discipline and study have replaced the thoughtless good times, and most of us are now ruled more by Apollo than Dionysius.

I'm not sorry about this, and I have no regrets. And anyway, suppose I'm not really done?