Thax Douglas in the Trib Today

[Dr. Steve Brule]

Back to Print Edition - Friday Friday Section

 

THE LAST VERSE

He's been praised by Billy Corgan, ripped by bloggers and applauded by thousands of Chicago rock fans. But everything is about to change for Thax Douglas.

 

By Kevin Pang

Tribune staff reporter

Published August 18, 2006

 

In the 49th year of his life, the poet would rather not beg for bus fare, but it happens. How did it get to this? His life savings is one dollar, in his pocket. Spare change is not just something found in the couch; it means eating dinner tonight.

 

"I am basically a failure," the poet wrote on his MySpace page. "I am very poor and am eager to make money with poetry any way I can. I love to get out and I'm willing to read anywhere."

 

The poet may have little, but he has his words. They mean everything to him. Adjectives don't just modify nouns, they penetrate like daggers deep into his prose. Metaphors turn the abstract into color and melody.

 

He even has the lyrical name of a poet: Thaxter Elliot Douglas III. On the Chicago music scene, he is simply Thax, the rock 'n' roll poet. On most nights, Thax--an imposing figure with circa-'70s glasses and a Santa's beard--lurches onto the stage of a local rock show, gazes into his notebook and reads a poem he wrote just for the band about to play.

 

Some in the audience will get it, some won't. But for 30 seconds, Thax and his words hold court.

 

His resume includes Wilco, Billy Corgan and countless important bands Chicago has given to music. Thax performed for out-of-towners, before The Flaming Lips' set at Lollapalooza this year. Some consider him Chicago's poet laureate.

 

"Thax has a VIP pass to the city," said Tim Tuten, co-owner of the Hideout. "I know for young bands, when Thax shows up, he's like a seal of approval."

 

When Thax performs onstage, he is home. The unpaid rent ... that's the last thing on his mind. He doesn't think about the crudely made sign his landlord gave him, stuck to his bedroom wall: "(no money) + smell = sidewalk." That a city he has given so much to, he said, still views him as a one-trick pony.

 

Or that he loved someone but has never been loved back.

 

How did it ever get to this?

 

Thax grew up in suburban Woodridge in the 1960s, a rural village where gossip carried across town with the wind.

 

An only child, Thax spent entire days in his bedroom, finding solace in music. He collected vinyl 45s--his first record was Ritchie Valens' "Donna," a nickel at the corner drugstore.

 

Thax's relationship with his parents, Ted and Gabrielle, was tenuous at best. When he was 10, something changed. He stopped listening to pop music and gave away all his records. Now he wanted to be a composer. He listened to classical music, mostly works by German composers. That's what his mother heard growing up in World War II-era Germany, in the shadows of the Nazis.

 

Two years younger than his classmates (he skipped to the 3rd grade), Thax fell deeper into his reclusive world. He eventually moved into the basement. It all could have been typical teenage rebellion and angst ... but those images in his head ... those demons acting out twisted fantasies ... well, this he knew wasn't normal. Thax drowned them out with Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven.

 

At Downers Grove South High School, he played trombone in the marching band and acted in theater. Thax played the Wizard in "The Wizard of Oz" and Murray the cop in "The Odd Couple." He came into his writing style at 15--strange, non-linear, stream-of-consciousness short stories that flowed from his imagination through the tip of his pen. These words, he thought, held power.

 

Thax hid a secret from his few friends: he was gay. In the early '70s, in a small community, homosexuality was hardly accepted, and in turn, society conditioned Thax into thinking he had a mental disease. He wanted nothing more than to be cured of liking other boys.

 

His parents were sympathetic and hired a psychiatrist for Thax, but the man told Thax to keep his secret to himself.

 

So he told no one, but those other thoughts ... ones he tried to drown out ... would not let up.

 

Thax was 17, and the edge of the cliff was in view. He spiraled into an incessant cycle of questions he could not answer: why it made his life a waking nightmare, why it made him not like girls, why he was overweight, why it made him think about those violent, sexual fantasies that pervaded his dreams.

 

On a Saturday night, as his parents watched "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," Thax went into the bathroom and swallowed a handful of his mother's prescription pills. When he awoke three days later in a hospital room, his father was clutching his hand.

 

Doctors suggested Thax be transferred to a psychiatric hospital, where he stayed for a month, his parents said. Thax was given shock therapy, the theory being his mental state might improve after inducing brain seizures.

 

Electrodes were planted on Thax's head. His whole body went numb and his consciousness went last. When he came to, those hideous thoughts vanished, and they have not come back since.

 

- - -

 

Humboldt Park, July 2006.

 

The door to the poet's room only opened halfway. The windows were shut. The fan turned off. The room, no larger than an office cubicle, was squalid and stifling.

 

Thax sleeps on the floor, because his back aches. Every night, he lays his head on a filthy black pillow. He sleeps beside a garbage bag that's full, a stereo, a stack of albums and headphones to lose himself in the music.

 

"I can't live in poverty like this anymore," Thax said. "I can't go begging people for a dollar to take the bus home every day. I'm sick of it."

 

He'd pay rent if he had a steady income. Poetry was a labor of love. He was fired from his last job, transcribing radio ads for businesses, nearly nine years ago. To support himself, Thax gave plasma twice a week for six years. Food stamps helped for a while.

 

Friends said Thax is at his lowest when he's not performing, which is most of the day.

 

"He lives life like [he's] waiting for the government check to come," said Rich Szczepanski, a good friend of Thax's. "He feels trapped ... he has to lie low and the only place that can be is at home."

 

Rich has had countless conversations with Thax about getting a day job, but those usually end in an argument.

 

So his schedule goes like this: Thax stays up past midnight, reading thick books of Russian poetry and listening to the radio. At 4:30 a.m., he watches "The Andy Griffith Show." "The BBC World News" at 6, "Saved By The Bell" at 7. As the day begins for most, Thax calls it a night.

 

"I sleep all day and get up at 4, go to work ..."

 

Thax caught himself midsentence and pursed his lips.

 

"Heh ... go to work ... that's a weird slip."

 

"But in a way, I do go to work. The bohemian ideal is that your life is sacrificed for the art and you do what you have to do."

 

That night, he'll perform at Wicker Park's Subterranean, and it'll take 45 minutes to walk there. A torrential downpour drenched the city and Thax waited until the clouds cleared to leave home.

 

- - -

 

The shock of turning 30 shook Thax Douglas to the bone. He had tried three different colleges, still lived with his parents and was working at a hospital admitting emergency-room patients. He felt his life had not been defined.

 

Thax had been attending the Green Mill Poetry Slam in Uptown. A day after his 30th birthday in 1987, he mustered the courage to perform in front of a crowd. It took 45 minutes to write 191 words.

 

It began: "It's wet outside--is it still raining out there? Each raindrop was a tender special aesthetic pointillistic moment that I would have liked to examine in detail--to see what made it tick, but I had a poem to write ... "

 

The audience of 40 or so gave him a hearty round of applause, and that was the moment Thax knew he had something to rely on. His words.

 

And so began an on-again, off-again relationship with poetry that lasted throughout the '90s, including Thax hosting a poetry and music variety show called "Thax After Dark" at local clubs. Some of his poems were recorded in studio with renowned Nirvana producer Steve Albini.

 

His fame took off in 2001 when Thax bought a bus pass and followed the indie-rock group Guided By Voices, reading poems before every show. The endless touring, the different cities, the loud music still ringing in his ears the next morning--this was Thax's idea of rock 'n' roll.

 

One summer night, Thax was walking out of a North Side grocery store when a couple approached.

 

"Excuse me, are you the guy that does the poems?" they asked. "We really like it."

 

Thax could only mutter a "thanks," but inside, he was beaming.

 

"It was a very happy moment," Thax recalled. "When it started happening every day, that became a positive force."

 

He started showing up at local shows nightly. His name grew bigger. The acts he read for grew bigger. Yo La Tengo, The Flaming Lips, The White Stripes, the names went on and on. Thax asked the bands if he could write them a poem and then perform it. The bands would almost always say yes.

 

But he was seldom paid, and Thax correlated compensation with self-worth. He knew his words couldn't be quantified in dollars and cents, but still, a man's got to live. He was taking weekly shots for what doctors called "cerebral allergies." Certain foods made him sick to the point of affecting his mental health. (Thax stopped taking the shots several years ago.) His frustrations began to surface.

 

In May, when the Chicagoist blog mentioned Thax, some commenters called him "half baked" and "rambling."

 

Thax wrote an angry response: "You dorks are jealous because I'm actually doing something creative. ... You jealous [expletive] are pathetic."

 

Said friend Mitch Marlow: "For anybody who's part of the music scene, he's absolutely respected ... but Chicago didn't really get behind him as much as they could have."

 

There was, as some observers described, a one-sided feud with Wilco, an act Thax had read for many times. But when he showed up unannounced in New York a few years ago, hoping to read before Wilco's set at Madison Square Garden, Thax didn't get to. A long, irate posting on a Wilco fan site by Thax did not help relations (when confronted by the band, he originally denied writing it).

 

Thax showed up at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago last month. The temperature that day crept past 100. Thax had a backstage pass, but wanted to go inside the air-conditioned field house. Organizers said that was for performing artists only. He left without reading a poem.

 

"There's just a lot of ambiguity as to what Thax Douglas means to Chicago," says Thax.

 

"That's why I'm leaving."

 

- - -

 

Thax is adored by bands, club owners and more than 2,200 friends on his MySpace page. Still, Thax has never experienced a real relationship.

 

Years ago, he fell in love with an author. He was offered a job outside Chicago, moving expenses and all. But Thax said no because he thought this man was the one. He fought hard through shyness to tell him how he felt. But not only did he not love Thax back, but . . . Thax stopped and said he doesn't want to talk about it.

 

"I'm not going to fall in love anymore. It's not for me. I'm tired of trying."

 

A few times a year, he'll visit his parents, who now live in southern Wisconsin.

 

"If he was a Nobel laureate, I'd be proud of him, but what he's doing now, I'm proud of it too," said his father, Ted, a retired engineer. "As long as he's happy doing what he's doing ... I wish he had some luck."

 

Many view him through the lens of novelty, as the guy who reads poems before rock shows. Thax just wants to be known as a poet. For his words.

 

And so it has come to this. The week after Labor Day, Thax will leave Chicago. A fresh start is in order, and New York is where artists go to follow their ghosts.

 

There, he plans to record with a small band backing his poetry. He'll sleep in the studio for the first few weeks.

 

"Usually when someone from Chicago is successful, it's because they're validated outside of Chicago," he said.

 

Thax is happier than ever, but he feels he's exhausted his city of 48 years.

 

"People like Thax Douglas are doing something more important than a 9-to-5 job," said Justin Baren, bassist for The Redwalls. "It might be a good step for him. It's where Thax would probably be more appreciated."

 

- - -

 

After the rainstorm passed, Thax arrived at Wicker Park's Subterranean and climbed the stairs into a dimly lit, cavernous room, his tote bag in tow.

 

"Thax!"

 

Through the dark, people immediately recognized him.

 

Thax found Chad Matheny, in town from Florida with his band Emperor X. Thax spoke up in his quiet, plaintive voice.

 

"I want to do a poem for you."

 

"Oh God, yeah! I would be honored."

 

Thax sat by the merchandise table with his spiral notebook and pen, deep in thought.

 

Then he stepped stage center, a man alone and his words.

 

"Turned ship winks a wake like a locust rush up to a curious eye island. The eye revels in the shower of luminous eye icons, the eye party being so much fun the original ship is forgotten, even though that's what the eye island was searching for."

 

"He totally understands," Matheny said. "It just made sense. Anyone who writes lyrics knows exactly what he's doing when he writes."

 

The few dozen in the crowd applauded Thax's efforts. He stepped off and stood near the front of the stage. As the music began, his head bobbed side-to-side to the thump of the bass. He tapped the top of his belly in rhythm. Then, without an encore for band or poet, amidst the sounds of tired patrons filing out, the show ended, and the poet began the long walk home.

 

- - -

 

FAREWELL CHICAGO'

 

flooded by the lake but you won't drown --

 

the "real" lake is actually a reservoir for all the lakes in storage that can be whipped out like tablecloths

 

to be nibbled at by the lungs of mice that'll stay Chicagoan til all the lakes are baked away for good or they move away.

 

By Thax Douglas, 8.2006

 

- - -

 

Farewell shows

 

Thax Douglas will be reading poetry the following nights before leaving Chicago.

 

- 7 p.m. Friday at Mercury Cafe's open mic, 1505 W. Chicago Ave.

 

- Before bands, reading starting at about 9:30 p.m. Aug. 24 at Subterranean, 2011 W. North Ave.

 

- About 8 p.m. Aug. 27 at Lilly's, 2513 N. Lincoln Ave.

 

- About 8 p.m. Aug. 31 at the Hideout, 1354 W. Wabansia Ave.

[j4lackey]

Thanks, Sam. That was insightful. Hope he makes some luck in the nyc.

[cryptique]

Rich has had countless conversations with Thax about getting a day job, but those usually end in an argument.

Fuck that shit. Dumbass needs to get himself a job.

 

I wish I could do nothing but read my half-assed poems and still pay the rent, but it's not going to happen. So I work. If he doesn't want to work, and he can't make money off his writing, he needs to look into other options.

 

Sorry, I just don't have a lot of sympathy.

[Dr. Steve Brule]

It's funny, as long as I have "known" Thax since I have lived in Chicago, I really never knew his history. For all the rides I've given him and cheeseburgers I've bought him, it was always kind of just living in that moment with him. It was difficult to read that article. Despite the controversy and whatever, I am really going to miss his presence at shows.

 

Speaking of which, I am hosting the final farwell show on Labor Day at the Hotel SnS. If anyone would like to attend, PM me for details.

[Preferred B]

Thanks for posting that, Sam. Sad and interesting ... I think they missed a farewell show, though.

 

EDIT: You beat me to it!

[SarahC]

that was kinda sad, i feel bad that they guy can't get a break, i hope things will work out for him in NYC...

[Dreamin']

Fuck that shit. Dumbass needs to get himself a job.

 

I wish I could do nothing but read my half-assed poems and still pay the rent, but it's not going to happen. So I work. If he doesn't want to work, and he can't make money off his writing, he needs to look into other options.

Thax has a job - he's a poet. Just because it doesn't pay the bills (or you don't like his poetry), doesn't mean that his work is without meaning. He's obviously willing to take risks that most of us wouldn't even dare to contemplate.

 

"He was free, free in every way, free to behave like a fool or a machine, free to accept, free to refuse, free to equivocate; to marry, to give up the game, to drag this death weight about with him for years to come. He could do what he liked, no one had the right to advise him, there would be for him no Good or Evil unless he thought them into being." - Jean-Paul Sartre

 

I am hosting the final farwell show on Labor Day at the Hotel SnS.

I wish I could be there Sam. I miss you guys!

 

In other news, the Hotel SnS infant creeper that I ordered arrived in the mail yesterday.

[cryptique]

Thax has a job - he's a poet. Just because it doesn't pay the bills (or you don't like his poetry), doesn't mean that his work is without meaning.

That's not a job, sorry.

 

I'm not saying his work is without meaning. I'm saying that if he's so darn sick of being poor, he has the ability to do something about it, and he's not doing it. That's not noble and bohemian, that's just stubborn and stupid.

 

Some people don't have a job because they can't find one, or they face certain obstacles that they can't overcome. Thax doesn't have a job because he refuses to get one. At some point you have to pull back a little on chasing the dream and think about your day-to-day existence. There's nothing about working a day job that would prevent him from writing and performing his poetry ... but he thinks he should be able to support himself on his poetry, and that's why he's fallen into deep poverty. And now he's giving up on Chicago.

 

"There's just a lot of ambiguity as to what Thax Douglas means to Chicago," says Thax.

 

"That's why I'm leaving."

"What Thax Douglas means to Chicago"? What, Chicago is supposed to just roll out the red carpet for him? He think he's owed something, and that's bullshit. And arrogant. And dumb.

 

Dude, you write poems. That's all you do. Those poems might mean a lot to a small number of people, and they might mean a lot to you, but like it or not, poetry is not something that you can support yourself on in this country during these times. All those poets whose work appears in the major magazines? They have day jobs. Those poets whose collections are for sale at bookstores? They teach, or they do something else, but they're not relying on poetry as their primary means of income. If anyone can name five people in this country who support themselves solely through poetry, please do so. The poets I know are mostly college professors. A couple of them have their work released in book form by major publishing houses. Another (my sister-in-law) runs an up-and-coming poetry magazine. None of them is solely a poet.

 

I would never tell Thax that he shouldn't chase his dream, but I would tell him that he needs to face up to reality. Almost everyone who's come out of nowhere to make it big in a creative field had to work at other jobs until their big break came. Thax doesn't want to do that, and that's why he's poor -- not because Chicago has somehow failed him. His situation is his fault, not the city's.

 

I don't wish Thax ill, and I hope something works out for him eventually. I just don't see him being any better off in the future until he swallows his pride and gets back into the workforce.

[WaronWar]

I read the article in the tribune today and also the Mary J. Blige article by Greg Kot (good article). The story was not really well written, but the journalist at least told his story and really seems like a sad one. For example, the story mentions after Thax got shock treatment he never had demons agaim; however, his whole life seems like his inability to face his demons. He seems like a great guy; I saw him at Lollapoolza, but he needs to face his fears that went through his head when he was in his basement in Woodridge.

 

Also, it was cool to learn that he went to the same school I go to now, Downers Grove South.

[WilcoFan]

I don't feel sorry for him either. Because he is living the life. I know it sucks being poor but what it boils down to is that Thax answers to no one. Maybe if he stepped back and looked at his life and compared it to someone having lots of money working 60 hour weeks, he might just choose his life.

[jff]

Thax has a job - he's a poet.

 

Do they pay bums to write poems in Canada?

[cryptique]

I don't feel sorry for him either. Because he is living the life. I know it sucks being poor but what it boils down to is that Thax answers to no one. Maybe if he stepped back and looked at his life and compared it to someone having lots of money working 60 hour weeks, he might just choose his life.

Well, he's the one complaining about being poor.

[jff]

He might be poor now, but in NYC he'll be poor AND homeless.

 

Sucks, yeah, but you have to have some income, or someone who will support you. Based on that article he is unwilling to even attempt to make either of those things happen.

[JUDE]

I think you are all missing the real question here. Is it art or is it craft?

[Dreamin']

Do they pay bums to write poems in Canada?

Actually, we do.

 

Fun fact: AC Newman received a govt. grant to record The Slow Wonder.

[Dr. Steve Brule]

I was in love with someone who was considered "mentally ill" and lived with them for a few years. His illness made it difficult for him to hold down a job, and the government originally denied his claims for disability. I'm not saying Thax is necessarily mentally ill, but someone who was given shock treatment might not be very eager to seek diagnosis or help, even though methods have (hopefully) changed since he was initially treated. It's also probably not something he would choose because the medication/treatment/whatever could potentially stifle what makes him creative (at least in his mind). Call him a bum, a dumbass, whatever, but the guy is afraid to love, and doesn't have the support system a lot of tortured musicians that people think pretty highly of do. At least he's not in the gutter drinking or popping pills. It's sad when you cannot make a living doing what you feel you do best. Perhaps New York will be more supportive, or less afraid of doing something for him.

[Beltmann]

Fun fact: AC Newman received a govt. grant to record The Slow Wonder.

Wow, that is a fun fact. Cool.

[Preferred B]

I don't disagree with a lot of what cryptique said in general. But it's pretty obvious from reading the article, and many other things Thax has written, that it's a little more complicated. Anyone ever seen the "Up" series of documentaries by Michael Apted?

 

And Judy, that's a pretty awesome bit of trivia.

[jff]

Anyone ever seen the "Up" series of documentaries by Michael Apted?

 

Yes, the mentally ill guy in the Up series goes into local politics. How does that relate to Thax's story?

Edited August 18, 2006 by jff

[Dreamin']

Wow, that is a fun fact. Cool.

AC Newman interview

 

I wish that all of my tax dollars were spent on indie rock and universal health care, etc.

[Preferred B]

The mentally ill guy in the Up series going into local politics has nothing to do with Thax's story. Unless Thax wants to go into local politics. Neil was a bright kid with a "good" upbringing who doesn't seem to want to or be able to hold down a paying job. Reading about Thax's background and some of the details reminded me of Neil. So I asked if anyone had ever seen the "Up" series of documentaries by Michael Apted. They are good.

[Dreamin']

That sounds very cool, Brianne. I'll check it out.

 

Maybe the common thread is that people living on the margins of society have something valuable to offer. God bless the so-called freaks and weirdos, we could use a few more of them.

[imdwalrus]

Little known fact:

 

Thax and I went to the same high school.

[OOO]

Little known fact: I used to change in gym class next to this guy:

 

"People like Thax Douglas are doing something more important than a 9-to-5 job," said Justin Baren, bassist for The Redwalls. "It might be a good step for him. It's where Thax would probably be more appreciated."

 

weird.

[jff]

Reading about Thax's background and some of the details reminded me of Neil. So I asked if anyone had ever seen the "Up" series of documentaries by Michael Apted. They are good.

 

Agreed, brilliant series. Best documentary series ever made. (If not, someone please let me know what is, because I love documentaries.)

 

If the series is going to continue on schedule, I think this year is the year they're due for another installlment.