Chapter 12: The Incredible Bulk

I’m Getting Hungry. You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Hungry…

Hello there campers. It’s been a while since I’ve written one of these and while I’ve been meaning to get back to it, those who know me and what’s been happening lately likely understand why I haven’t until now. I’m happy to report that your portly hero has found himself a job.

I came to Granite City, IL in October to visit my grandparents and celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary. One night after talking with my Grandma about my situation in life, I felt a nudge to look around for local jobs here. Sure enough there was an opening for the Salvation Army in Belleville, IL, and what they were looking for was darn near exactly the kinds of experience I brought to the table. So I shot off a short e-mail with my resume and to my astonishment got a call the next morning. Long story short- I got the job. True to form, my first day on the job was the first day of the notorious Red Kettle season, and thus my life became 14 hour a day shifts of hanging at the office and counting kettle money for a few months.

I can’t describe how nice it was to have a job to get up and go to every day. Sure the hours were rough, but I loved every minute of it because I felt like I was actually doing something with my life again. Of course, with all life’s ups there come the downs.

The Death of a Superman

I’ve mentioned Mark quite a few times here. He’s been one of my best friends for ten years and my co-writer for no less than six writing projects- including my first novel. He’s also the reason I even started writing Down with the Thickness. This was his idea and he talked me into doing it. Mark lived in Dillsburg, PA so our relationship, which we considered to be like brothers, was a long distance one. On January 7^th I got a message from one of our now mutual friends, Shawn, and Mark’s sister that Mark had passed away due to complications with his diabetes.  I don’t think we ever got a direct explanation, but the going theory was Mark’s blood sugar dropped fatally low during the night and his heart stopped.

Needless to say, this came as a complete shock- a shock I’m still reeling from. I’d just talked to Mark minutes before he went to bed the night before, and had I known that it was the last time I’d get to talk to him, there are so many things I would have liked to have said. They’re all things he knew. He knew I loved him. He knew what an inspiration he’d been to me. He knew that if it hadn’t been for him I’d have given up on life a long time ago. He was my brother. He knew that. It was all things we’d said before, but it’s still things I would have liked to have said again, just once, before he was taken from us all, especially given how hard life had been treating him…well all his life but particularly in recent months.

My cousin Jennifer and I drove up to PA for his memorial service. It was a pretty surreal experience all around not just because of the suddenness of it all, but because I found myself surrounded by a lot of people I’d been hearing about for over a decade, but had never met before in my life- and they all knew me too. I wish to God that Mark could have been there for his service and heard the things that everyone said about him. Mark was such a humble person that he never really knew, nor accepted, that he impacted everyone round him. He never realized just how profound an affect he’d had on so many people. Mark was a shining example of the man I strive to be each day. He was far from perfect, as we all are, but even with his faults Mark was the very personification of compassion and love. I’m saddened that he never really realized just how special a person he was regardless of how often he may have heard it from me and others that were close to him. He was our Superman, and he made me believe.

Up, Up, and Away!

Mark’s death has hit everyone who knew him extremely hard, but it’s also inspired us. I, and his other close friends and partners in creative crime, have vowed to continue to not only create, but to produce every project that Mark had some hand in plotting out. Though he never had the chance to have a family of his own, his legacy will be a literary one. We’ve all teamed together to help each other produce these projects. Each will bear his name in the credits, as well they should, and each will live on, forever immortalizing the thoughts and ideas of a true genius who was taken from us far too early.

I find myself at odds. On the one hand I’m…well, words can’t really describe how I feel about Mark’s passing. I was closer to him than just about anyone else on this planet, and so much of my daily life and work involved him in some capacity. To face moving forward without his continued presence, especially when it comes to Chosen and our other projects, is a daunting, and quite frankly depressing task. On the other hand, I find myself strangely at peace with it in many ways. Knowing that Mark is finally at peace after a life of such hardship as he had to endure makes a part of myself- the unselfish part- happy for him. I know in death he’s found a sense of peace, and I believe joy, that he could never really find in life. The worries he had while alive have been since taken care of after his death. It’s hard to not feel a small amount of bitterness at that- that it took his death for those issues which I won’t go into detail about here to be taken care of, as opposed to them being taken care of while he was still here, and while he still had a chance to have a life of his own.

Anyway, as with other projects that have been tabled the last few months, I’m back and determined to continue Down with the Thickness for as long as I feel I can share anything of worth. Keep an eye on Authentic Entertainment as well, as I’ll do my best to give updates on projects, etc. there. I appreciate your support, and as always feel free to leave comments in the comments section below.

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