Entrepreneuring pg137–138
By: Mernie Buchanan
Tags: Books, Isolation, Artist Memoir, The Incompetent Psychic, Gratitude

Colorful companion to my memoir The Incompetent Psychic

Larry Beldon 1985

I started perusing the want ads with more diligence. One caught my attention and I called for an interview. Someone wanted an illustrator for a video production company a couple of towns away. I dusted off my portfolio of decorative design work from Las Vegas, groomed and presented myself for consideration late the next afternoon in Larry Beldon’s living room. I was the last of many applicants that day.

Larry had contracts with Olympic, Collegiate and Major League organizations. He made deals to use their coaches and teams to shoot, produce and sell instructional sports videos to high school and college coaches across the US and Canada. Larry made a brilliant start right out the gate. Being crazy adept at using other people’s money kept him with the lead horses in a Wild West race that was the home video industry for the next decade. I got to go along for the ride, but didn’t finish in the money. — From Chapter 7

I’m veering off the memoir this morning. It’s month nine of Covid isolation. I’m facing another hermit day after another lonesome day that was Christmas Day, but that’s just me whining. I am really fortunate and incredibly grateful for what I have. Compared to millions my life is so blessed it borders on fabulous. For 2020 I am doing okay. Personally I’m freaking lonely, and understand why so many are so compelled to have human contact that lives are being lost in terrifying spikes. I’ve been very careful to not do anything to raise that graph line by a single tick through this whole ordeal.

There are several more months to go, as I have no plans to cut in line for the vaccine ahead of anyone who is doing a risky job to keep me fed and supplied with necessities. I want the people in line ahead of me to be agricultural workers, truck drivers and grocery store clerks. Anyone who comes within a hundred feet of a Covid ward is standing in that long line stretching across the country — six feet apart and wearing masks. The last storm here in the Catskills knocked out power to over 600 homes in my county late Christmas Eve as tall trees took out power lines. Central Hudson repair and tree removal crews worked through the night and all Christmas Day. They are in that vaccine line, too. My gratitude is a patient arm wave to go on ahead as I’m doing okay for now. I have heat, food and a damn good dog.

Although I had to stop art classes and can’t have Air BnB guests, my paintings have been selling well enough to keep the bills and taxes paid. Publishing a first book while events, readings and gatherings are verboten makes finding an audience a challenge, but I’m used to challenges. I have made independence from being an employee work here in my happy little studio for decades. I can hold on until spring without embraces, socializing and restaurants. There are phone calls and doggie hugs and a friend left cookies on my porch. 2020 is almost over. Although a raging fire is still burning in the dumpster that is the current administration, there is optimism that sanity and more gentle lessons will return. I can hang on through a few more storms while thinking better thoughts. Love, me.

A signed copy of Mernie’s memoir is available at www.etsy.com/listing/839838936

Unsigned copies can be ordered wherever books are sold.