Week Off

I took a week off from band stuff/other social activity and consequently have little to talk about. I'm tempted to do a point-form timeline entry as a tribute to a friend who's been uncharacteristically absent from the blog "scene" for awhile. A "cover version".

Last Monday I enjoyed a day of self-spoilage. I did such decadent things as enjoying a simple meal alone while reading a magazine at a sidewalk cafe, and buying a kite.

The kite has not yet been flown; yesterday would have been a good day for it had I not been playing a show in the afternoon. I took it out of the package last night and had a look. Seems easy enough to put together. I wanted a modest-looking, single-line kite. Something diamond-shaped with a bowtie tail would have been ideal. Maybe I should have shopped around more (it was suggested that I make my own, but I tried that when I was a kid, with discouraging results). I ended up settling on a bird-shaped model with a large tail. Upon inspection, this kite was a lot more "flamboyant" looking than I'd inferred from the package. Yet, it was the most modest-looking single line kite in the store. Oh well. A full report shall follow the maiden voyage, when it occurs. I may solicit help/impartial observers on that day. I wasn't joking about this kite stuff.

The rest of the week was uneventful... until Friday night. I had been thinking about tequila lately. I'd never tried it but I'd heard it was an unusual drinking experience, relative to other alcoholic beverages. In the interest of scientific self-enlightenment, I took on the project.

I did a little homework... friends with experience in the field were consulted. The reviews were overwhelmingly negative. I was undeterred. I chose a conservative regimen for consumption - one shot an hour, with assessment on the half-hour.

After a couple of shots, one thing became clear: the physical effects of the drink far outpaced the psychological ones. My body was starting to feel drunk, but my mind was not. I was very surprised at how clear my perception and reasoning remained as the night went on.

The danger of this scenario requires no explanation; I cut myself off at five shots in two and a half hours. I did not feel drunk, but I knew I had to be. The time had come to switch to beer.

Two bottles of beer were subsequently consumed. After the second one was finished I noticed a curious phenomenon; I had crashed and could not move from my bed. I couldn't even summon up the energy to shut off the computer, and it was two feet away. I wasn't sick; I wasn't even sleepy. I just plain couldn't get out of bed. Interesting.

I had no ill effects for the rest of the night or the next day. I basically waited to fall asleep. I would have drummed my fingers had I been able.

This was research; I wasn't looking to get paralyzed, in case anyone is wondering.

BB played a show the next afternoon, my first time playing since getting home. The show went well, although I admit it's hard to get worked up for a matinee. People were receptive.

This week I'm going to continue trying to eat right (-er), and I'm going to fly that kite. Both bands will likely jam and work on new material.