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My name is John Femia. Most of you know me pretty well, and some of you have admired my work in television and standup comedy.
For the last few years, I’ve had a foreboding feeling that this time might come sooner or later. Until now, I was convinced that moving out of NYC for good would be the single most hardest thing I ever had to do in my life.
I was wrong.
What I am about to do now will be MUCH harder, and I’m deeply ashamed of myself that I’ve allowed it to come to this.
For the last few years, I considered the possibility of moving out of New York. It has gone from the greatest city in the world to the greatest tourist trap in the world. Restaurants, performance spaces, mom and pop stores, art studios, and other well known establishments that made New York what it was, are all being bulldozed away to make room for hundreds of more top-dollar high-rises, more Duane Reade’s, Dunkin Donuts, Subway’s and Chipotle’s.
I was prepared to make this move after my father passed away in 2012. I had the resources and the money. I had a job which paid decent enough for me to afford rent, as well as saving up to move. But soon afterward, my mom developed what was to be the first stage of Alzheimer’s. She had already been hospitalized due to several falls she took because of her weak knees. It became apparent that she needed my presence here more than ever, and when I told her I was considering moving, she completely broke down. She said she needed me here, so I abandoned my plans.
I passed on every opportunity I had to leave, because I had no choice. My mom was priority. Meanwhile, the cost of NYC living continued to skyrocket, and the hourly wages stayed the same. I lost my job, and took several others that didn’t pan out for me financially as I had thought. The job I currently have has turned my situation into one that is dire, but it’s all I have for an income at the moment.
My depression is worse than ever. It has crippled me, and my creative energy is dead. For the first time in many years, I’ve started to contemplate suicide. But don’t worry, I’m not doing that unless I lose everything and wind up on the streets. Because I would much rather take myself out, than be another homeless person in NYC.
So, as of this writing, my mom has passed and I am five months behind in rent and fighting eviction. There is nothing I can do at this point to save my living status here, but frankly, I don’t want to. I am done with this city. I want to move somewhere where I can have a fresh start. A place where not only can I afford to pay rent and bills, but still have money left over to go to an occasional movie or diner if I want. A place where I can work on my creative passions, and carry them out without conviction.
That place, for me, is Las Vegas.
For those of you who email me and ask when I will return to a stage, you now know why I dropped off the face of showbiz’s earth. Asking for donations goes against every principle I have of not wanting to lose friendships or relationships. But sadly, it’s come to a point where I can now afford nothing....not even pride.
Doing this is abhorrent within every bone and nerve in my body, but it's a matter of survival, Most importantly, I will finally be able to hit that “reset” button, and start an all-new chapter of my life. I feel this change is exactly what I need to bring my creative energies back, maybe even inspire me to do standup in a place where it’s not run like a slaughterhouse. It will definitely inspire me to write again.
Every dollar will go towards moving expenses, a flight, temporary housing until I find a permanent place to live, and enough to cover up to three months rent, as is standard security with some Vegas apartments.
New York is the place of my birth, and I’ve lived here almost all my life. I’ve deeply loved this city and everything it had to offer. But it’s not the city I once knew. I wish things weren’t like this, because I was planning to live here forever. Leaving truly breaks my heart. But not only is it no longer feasible, but the laborious effort required to try and stay above water gets harder each day. It’s not worth it anymore. There is nothing left for me here.
So, please.
Anything you can do will be greatly appreciated. At very least, share this on your page and help get the word out for me.
Please.
For the last few years, I’ve had a foreboding feeling that this time might come sooner or later. Until now, I was convinced that moving out of NYC for good would be the single most hardest thing I ever had to do in my life.
I was wrong.
What I am about to do now will be MUCH harder, and I’m deeply ashamed of myself that I’ve allowed it to come to this.
For the last few years, I considered the possibility of moving out of New York. It has gone from the greatest city in the world to the greatest tourist trap in the world. Restaurants, performance spaces, mom and pop stores, art studios, and other well known establishments that made New York what it was, are all being bulldozed away to make room for hundreds of more top-dollar high-rises, more Duane Reade’s, Dunkin Donuts, Subway’s and Chipotle’s.
I was prepared to make this move after my father passed away in 2012. I had the resources and the money. I had a job which paid decent enough for me to afford rent, as well as saving up to move. But soon afterward, my mom developed what was to be the first stage of Alzheimer’s. She had already been hospitalized due to several falls she took because of her weak knees. It became apparent that she needed my presence here more than ever, and when I told her I was considering moving, she completely broke down. She said she needed me here, so I abandoned my plans.
I passed on every opportunity I had to leave, because I had no choice. My mom was priority. Meanwhile, the cost of NYC living continued to skyrocket, and the hourly wages stayed the same. I lost my job, and took several others that didn’t pan out for me financially as I had thought. The job I currently have has turned my situation into one that is dire, but it’s all I have for an income at the moment.
My depression is worse than ever. It has crippled me, and my creative energy is dead. For the first time in many years, I’ve started to contemplate suicide. But don’t worry, I’m not doing that unless I lose everything and wind up on the streets. Because I would much rather take myself out, than be another homeless person in NYC.
So, as of this writing, my mom has passed and I am five months behind in rent and fighting eviction. There is nothing I can do at this point to save my living status here, but frankly, I don’t want to. I am done with this city. I want to move somewhere where I can have a fresh start. A place where not only can I afford to pay rent and bills, but still have money left over to go to an occasional movie or diner if I want. A place where I can work on my creative passions, and carry them out without conviction.
That place, for me, is Las Vegas.
For those of you who email me and ask when I will return to a stage, you now know why I dropped off the face of showbiz’s earth. Asking for donations goes against every principle I have of not wanting to lose friendships or relationships. But sadly, it’s come to a point where I can now afford nothing....not even pride.
Doing this is abhorrent within every bone and nerve in my body, but it's a matter of survival, Most importantly, I will finally be able to hit that “reset” button, and start an all-new chapter of my life. I feel this change is exactly what I need to bring my creative energies back, maybe even inspire me to do standup in a place where it’s not run like a slaughterhouse. It will definitely inspire me to write again.
Every dollar will go towards moving expenses, a flight, temporary housing until I find a permanent place to live, and enough to cover up to three months rent, as is standard security with some Vegas apartments.
New York is the place of my birth, and I’ve lived here almost all my life. I’ve deeply loved this city and everything it had to offer. But it’s not the city I once knew. I wish things weren’t like this, because I was planning to live here forever. Leaving truly breaks my heart. But not only is it no longer feasible, but the laborious effort required to try and stay above water gets harder each day. It’s not worth it anymore. There is nothing left for me here.
So, please.
Anything you can do will be greatly appreciated. At very least, share this on your page and help get the word out for me.
Please.
Organizer
John Femia
Organizer
New York, NY