Mew-sings Of A Blue Cat

Mew-sings of a blue cat

November 22, 2016

Last week marked the two-year anniversary of the end of the Butch G. Cat project.  A nine-year project killed dead in its tracks because two people on the team decided they didn’t like the direction it was going and instead of reaching out and fixing it as a team, they destroyed it.  I’ve talked about it plenty and didn’t actually realize the anniversary had passed. It still stings.  

I’d been archiving files off of my home computer and rediscovered the soundtrack and screenplay and spent some time listening to the songs and reading the script this past weekend. I was immensely proud of both the script and the songs.  I still am. I have posted the lyrics in the lyrics section of this site if you’re interested.  I think that is why it still hurts after all this time, the project was good. Really good.  I now know how musicians feel when they record an album that never sees the light of day because of a label or studio. It sucks. It really sucks. So much time spent and nothing to show for it.

But more than that, the project failure cost me a long-time friend. Scripts you can re-write and create from scratch, but friends can’t be replaced.   I haven’t spoken to Danny in two years.  The last time I saw him was at his aunt’s funeral.  We parted on good times. We hugged and he thanked me for coming. We spoke about the Butch G. Cat project with enthusiasm and excitement. We drove next to each other as we left and he turned at a light. It would be the last time I ever saw him.  The downfall came via email barely two months later. I haven’t dwelled on this for a while, but the days leading up to Thanksgiving, Tera was putting our friend invite list together for dinner and the first name that popped in my head was Danny, then I realized that was not possible.  Stupid right?   Things haven’t changed. We still don’t speak. There is far too much unresolved drama that we can never get past. He moved on with his life and I moved on with mine.  I’m creating again and enjoying myself doing it.  I have great things on the horizon, but there will always be that part of me that wonders “what if?” How big could we have made this project if inner turmoil hadn’t ripped it apart at the seams.  If we could have communicated better. Trusted each other. Trusted in each other.  We could have conquered the world. Now I’ll just have to do it one project at a time.  

I don’t look back with anger anymore. More disappointment and sadness really. I think this is one part of my life I won’t be able to get complete closure on.  It’s like the divorce you didn’t see coming.  You patch yourself up and soldier on.  I’ve sent out “Don’t Make Me Come Down There” out for critical feedback and I have some edits to make. But the feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. It’s always terrifying putting yourself out there for the world to see.  I wear my heart on my sleeve and this is the hardest part of writing.  I’m on the right path. I need to wrap the first act up and put this baby to bed.  

Yours thoughtfully,


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