Q. Do you know who I am?

A. Not exactly.  But I don’t think it’s relevant.

Q. So why have you summoned me?

A. Tune-up.

Q. Squeaky wheels, eh?

A. They’re the ones that get the oil.

Q. Are they?

A. I’m honestly not sure.  I’ve tried to believe that.  I’ve read the Parable of the Unjust Judge enough times to have figured it out.   Or the Parable of the Nagging Widow, or whatever they call it, depending on the emphasis.

Q. Do you empathize with the Judge, or with the Widow?

A. I said “emphasis” not “empathize.”  I don’t empathize with either of them.

Q. Then why are you trying to act like one of them?

A. Because I’ve been led to believe that it will work.

Q. What will work?   Nagging?

A. Yes — or so I’m led to believe.  You know the story.  The widow appears before the Judge with some certain request that he at first denies her.   But she just keeps appearing, and showing up in Court, and reiterating her request ad nauseum, until eventually the Judge breaks down and grants her the request, just to get her off his back.

Q. And so you figure that if you nag everybody enough, they’ll eventually break down?

A. More-or-less.  That’s what I’ve been figuring, but it obviously doesn’t work.  I am either never going to get the money to do this demo recording, or I’m going to have to go about it some other way — because no matter how many times I plead, I still see the same hundred bucks in there that I saw a long time ago.   Sure it was encouraging when it first showed up — way back when — but it’s pretty damned discouraging to keep checking the fund site, only to find that nothing has changed.  I finished the musical almost a year ago and have been trying to move onto the next stage since then! It’s frustrating!!!

People set up “go-fund-me’s” for all kinds of things these days, and get the money.  Some of the causes aren’t even worthwhile, if you ask me — yet they still manage to come up with the bucks.  Here I wrote this entire musical, I’m only trying to get basic money together for the next step in the process, and nobody will help me.   Nobody.

Q. But some people have helped you on occasion, haven’t they?

A. Yeah, but they’ve helped me — not my project.   I keep telling people; I don’t need personal help anymore; I’m meeting my own personal needs, thank you.  I’m not sleeping in a gutter anymore; I’m not panhandling – I’m not begging for change on the streets.  I’ve tried to go about this whole thing decently and honestly, but where has it gotten me?

I set up a separate fund for this thing — or rather my friend Danielle did — and we still can’t get any money together.  I’ve been as honest as I can be; and that doesn’t seem to help.   What am I supposed to do?  Turn around and start feeding people a load of bullshit in order to try to get this show on the road?   That would fly in the face of everything I stand for; everything the musical is all about.

Q. Andy, have you ever considered that maybe this isn’t the time to produce your musical?

A. Painfully, yes.  Of course I have.   I’m a  Christian, and I figure God is closing the doors until a time of His choosing, not mine. 

Q. And do you not see His many blessings in other areas of your life?

A. Sure I do!  At times, I am even grateful for them.  But that doesn’t automatically put an end to my frustration.  I spent five years trying to get this script and score finished – through seemingly insurmountable obstacles – in order for it to come to this.   It makes me feel as though I wasted my time on some pipe dream.

Q. Where is your faith?

A. That’s the $64,000 question.   And I’m only asking for 1% that amount.   So – I’ll try this one more time, but honestly, that’s about all I can take of this.   All these stupid donate buttons go against my grain.  Not to mention, they soil the picture of this blog.  I’m about the least materialistic guy on the planet, and they stick out like a sore thumb. I don’t need the gavel of an Unjust Judge to validate my mediocrity.  I’m bigger than that.  I’m better than that!   I’m an Artist!!   I’m an Artist — and I hate money.  I hate what it does to me, and I don’t like seeing what it does in others.  I’m an Artist. Somebody else manage my damn money!! I’m an Artist! I want out.

The Questioner is silent.

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