aaron schwab

The Fullblast officially broke up in 2006, but their farewell show was tonight, at the Toronto stop of the current A Wilhelm Scream/Living With Lions tour at The Opera House.

AWS and LWL were awesome, as was the opening band, The Artist Life; i haven’t been to a good, solid punk rock show in ages, and these bands seem to be at the top of their game.

The Fullblast themselves absolutely destroyed the other bands’ sets, though (although it was awesome to see Brian play back-to-back sets with AWS and then TFB — he’s easily the bassist i hope to be someday.) they even rotated guitarists every few songs, just so that every guitarist that’s played with them since 2000 could have a place in the hour-long set. they played 17 songs, i think — 18 with the inclusion of Lee Majors (i knew they’d encore with that song, because there was no way in hell i was going to walk away at the end of the set without having heard it.) i even managed to snag both of the brand new Fullblast teeshirts — it was my last opportunity to do so, which was enough justification for me to buy even more black band tees.

i spent about half of TFB’s set in the pit and on the floor catching crowd surfers, but i retired to back by the bar after a while so i could put my glasses back on and enjoy the rest of the set from afar where i could see and hear everything more clearly, but not before coming inches form Ian’s face, screaming the lyrics to Spoons, Gats and Prison Tats back at him. highlight of the night, right there — singing my favourite Fullblast song back at the vocalist at my last possible pooprtunity to do so. well, that and being sandwiched in between dozens of sweaty, greasy and occasionally topless dudes.

one pitstop at a Mississauga Tim Hortons later, and i’m back at home, safe and sound. who knows what tomorrow will bring me? well, aside from the standard post-concert hearing loss and general immobility.

many wonderful things have happened since i last blogged from atop Cagney’s futon with her laptop. that very morning, we did what any sensible couple would do upon waking up to one another and realizing that neither had to be at work; we went for a hearty breakfast. an omelette and home fries (the best damn home fries i’ve tasted) for her, and a stack of fresh chocolate chip pancakes for myself at Benny’s; though its name and front lawn sign bear a more-than-coincidental resemblence to those of Denny’s, this place rules, and doesn’t bring me my pancakes with a little ocean of butter in the middle (i know, it’s hard to comprehend someone mentioning that as a negative, but it might help explain my scrawniness.) to paraphrase an ebay reviewer, Benny’s is A+++; would eat again!

after being dealt the humbling blow of being horribly unable to finish the mountains of food they brought to our table, we decided to walk off our breakfast food babies by beating it up to Chapters/Starbucks and then to Conestoga Mall on foot, stopping between the two to terrorize some Canada geese and question the significance of the word “a” on restaurant marquee signs.

in the midst of our trek through Conestoga Mall (which almost seems to have taken us into every store), i found an interesting little treasure on one of the hallway benches:

i’m sure i’d heard of this project before, as it was scantly in my memory, and i was rather delighted to find this book. i initially figured someone just absentmindedly left their book behind, but it was interesting to pick it up and see the attached labels. i fully intend to read it, document its whereabouts on the bookcrossing website and then drop it off elsewhere and try to see where it ends up after me. i’m thinking it might be fun to drop it off in Montréal, if i end up being able to go there in the fall.

yesterday was yet another overnight at Cagney’s (something i was used to before, and don’t mind getting used to again at all), but unlike sunday’s leisurely rise, we had to beat it on foot uptown so she could get to work on time, but not before stopping for an outrageously over-spiced latté at Whole Lotta Gelata. the place has amazing gelato, and maybe it was the fault of the particular individual who made our drinks, but we really should’ve played it safe and gone to the ‘Bucks as per usual.

tomorrow should be epic in its own right, as Anuj, Shanna and i make tracks to Toronto for The Fullblast’s farewell set. expect a giddiness-ridden blog sometime late tomorrow night or Thursday morning!

it’s twenty after ten in the morning and, much like yesterday, i’ve found myself waking up at Cagney’s place, only this time, we’re heading out to breakfast instead of one of us rushing to work. she’s currently freshening up and getting ready for the day, leaving me with nothing but my meandering thoughts and a laptop. so i’m writing another blog.

i was sitting at home idly doing some work for grad proofs yesterday and checking my list of bookmarked blogs, and i came across a great piece on demonbaby — read it here. it almost seems humourous to me that such people exist (and in Kentucky, no less, which only fortifies the overt redneck stereotype at hand), but really, i’m seriously frightened that such mindsets exist and have been brought to the same level as logical and rational thought. any other commentary i could supply has been conveyed in the actual article much more eloquently than i’m currently finding myself capable of being. one point made in it that rings the loudest with em, though, is that religious freedom is an important right to defend whether or not one agrees with the points being made, but the fact that such rhetoric is thought of by a significant number of people as a replacement for exhaustively proven fact is not only stupid; it’s dangerous.

the article that originally drew my attention to demonbaby and its author, Rob, was this one here, regarding the current state of the music industry as a ship that is sinking, slowly but surely. i’ve read but only a pinch of the millions of blogs that populate the intertubes, but demonbaby is likely my favourite, if only for these two articles. this one on the music industry makes me feel excited to observe future trends in the marketing and sale of music, as we’re very likely on the cusp of a major shift in the dynamics of the industry.

i should probably wrap this up, as i have a very cozy and cuddly girlfriend next to me. and she smells fantastic.

… ever, really. i swear, i’m growing used to simply not needing it. unfortunately, that probably doesn’t stop the fact that i do indeed need it, not to mention love it, but there never seems to be enough time to do it; there’s always something else going on!

i’d love to start my lengthy little update here with my work week, but i can’t remember most of it. that’s what i get for going more than two days without writing here (memory span of a goldfish, seriously.) as far as a week of shooting grads goes, this past week was a piece of cake; 23 sessions over three days, which gave Joe and i ample time to sit at the university and brainstorm for some Newschool-related print material and media, not to mention tinker with a couple of new lenses and flashes to try to figure out their inner workings. it’s always exciting to me to get my hands on a new lens or piece of photo equipment to see what it can do.

last night was Of The First Born Son’s final show at The Gig; it also marked my second time seeing them play sans bassist (and at the very same venue, to boot.) the first time i saw them play without one — which was the night their most recent bassist, Curt, quit the band and walked out five minutes before the band’s set — it took me until four songs into their set to realize they were playing without a basisst, which i suppose speaks for both the rest of the band’s songwriting abilities and Curt’s skill level. even though the low end of the sonic spectrum is pretty essential to heavy music, OTFBS managed to tear The Gig a new asshole last night without it; they easily had the most active crowd i’ve seen at a local show in recent memory.

last night also marked the final performance for Rivera, Wide Awake, and i can’t say i’m terribly disappointed at this particular split; maybe i haven’t seen the worst havoc that a local show has to offer (or?), but i was appalled and borderline offended at RWA’s vocalist’s conduct. first off, he showed up for his band’s set twenty minutes late and fall-down drunk (i could smell it on him from two feet away) then proceeded to walk onstage and walk right off the other side. after being pushed back onstage, he grabbed a mic and dove haphazardly into the crowd. once he finally got back up onto the stage, he proceeded to tell the audience that the band was breaking up in bad blood and that he hates every one of his bandmates, and then he only performed one song in its entirety. the fact that someone with such a lack of respect and obvious disregard for his band, audience, venue and promoter was actually allotted stage time disgusts me, especially knowing how hard it is to catch even a small break as a band. such opportunities are precious and shouldn’t be squandered, so it pisses me off to see someone do just that.

i think i did alright with the photography side of things last night, however, and i’ll be posting the best results in the usual place once i’ve sifted through the crap. once thing i learned very clearly last night, though, is that i’m never shooting live bands at f/4 again; i got far better results with the longer focal plane of f/8 (or f/11, when lighting allowed for it) the last time i shot bands at The Gig, but i’m pretty sure i’ll be able to find some nuggets of gold amongst the other varieties of nugget i photographed last night.

after the show, Cagney and i ended up getting dropped off at her place by Chris and Candice. after sleeping (i think) and waking up to cinnamon raisin english muffins with cinnamon spread, Cagney and i headed from her place to Starbucks on her way to work, then i carted my overtired ass home and plopped down on my futon for a nap. now, i’m sitting here in my boxers with a few dozen photos from last night to edit and 23 grad proof CDs to burn from this past week (which is a delightfully small amount, compared to the 402 or so i crunched out last time.)

but above all, i must shower. oh lord, how i must shower.

the latest order Joe made from Calumet came in today, including a few treats for me (“just put ‘em on my tab, Moe!”)

new camera bag stuffers include a 50mm f/1.4 lens, which is so sharp and has such a shallow depth of field at f/1.4, that i’m literally giddy over it; an SB-800, which not only puts out way more light than my SB-600, but doubles as a remote controller if i ever want to set the SB-600 on a tripod and have two directions of light firing at once; and an SC-28, — which simply has to stand for “stretchy cable” — which allows me to have my SB-800 in my left hand as i shoot with my right — ideal for band shots, and with the added treat of being able to set my SB-600 behind the stacks or drummer or wherever i feel like sticking a spare highlight. suffice to say my camera bag is a little heavier (partially due to the 18-200mm VR that i swapped for my slightly malfunctioning 24-120mm VR — a swap i’m surprised i’ve neglected to mention before now.) and that’s about it for my camera nerdery for now!

work this week is off to a slow start; Joe and i had a bit of a late start today in getting our grad HQ set up at AHS at UW (also, i’m pretty into acronyms, it seems.) after settling some backdrop stand- and lighting-related discrepencies and wolfing down some Harvey’s, we rushed to Maxwell’s Music House in the Phil’s/Pilot Pita plaza to shoot Porcelain — Joe and i have been meaning to shoot “the boys” in tandem for a while now, but we had to skip out again tonight because they don’t play until midnight and he had to be home earlier than that (not to mention the fact that it’s only 11:15 and i’m already pooped.)

i should probably grab a snack and head to bed soon try to cure my worsening case of vampirism …

yesterday feels like a week ago. hell, yesterday itself felt like it took a week. nevertheless, it was a great week, so to speak — the whole day was a blast, rain and extended periods of standing on muddy or semi-muddy ground notwithstanding.

i got to Cagney’s place at eight in the morning, which meant waking up bright and early at seven. after packing a towel, poncho and umbrella in anticipation of the rainy forecast, i headed to her place, where we were picked up by Liam before the three of us went to Cambridge to get Steph. then off we went to a Denny’s in Missisauga for breakfast! it was a good breakfast, despite the fact that my french toast had a little butter ocean in the middle of it.

after some shopping at AA and H&M, we headed off to Fort York for ye olde concert. here’s a list-esque breakdown of the bands:

The Carps: we got to the park late so we missed them completely, but i’m listening to them on Myspace right now and i’m a little bummed that we missed them, in hindsight. definitely in my top three for bassist/drummer duos (the other honours going to DFA 1979 and Lightning Bolt.)

Born Ruffians: one of the bands Cagney refused to miss, even though we missed a song or two from the beginning of their set. these guys are young and awesome — incredibly catchy indie-pop, lest we forget the soft spot i have for three-piece bands. i think the restrictions imposed upon a band by having only two or three members that perform live creates a dynamic not found in four- or five-piece bands. while it’s easy to have a dedicated rhythm guitarist or keyboard player, trios are forced to compensate by switching instruments for different songs (if that’s the case with any particular band) or having each member pull their weight in an entirely different way than they would if there were a fourth or fourth and fifth member to lean on.

Dizzee Rascal: didn’t really do much for me. i know Dizzee Rascal is a good MC — and maybe i simply don’t prefer hip hop in a live setting (i haven’t seen enough of it live to know) — but i really couldn’t get into him. this could also have to do with the fact that i’m unfamiliar with his material, but i’ll definitely give his recorded material a chance before i make any final judgment calls.

Animal Collective: though i give them the utmost props for performing live with only two of their four members, and further props for being a good band as i’ve determined by their recordings, i remove most of those props due to them putting on one of the most boring sets i’ve ever seen. within an hour, they played three songs, and far be it from me to knock experimental music, but when it drones on for fifteen minutes past the point of it being interesting, my eyes start to roll back in my head.

Chromeo: totally made the day for me. as catchy and infectious and danceable live as they are when i hear them at the bar or home — maybe even more so! i finally got to experience hearing and dancing to Chromeo on a muddy, wet, filthy piece of ground that isn’t the dance floor at Phil’s.

Vampire Weekend: much like the Born Ruffians, VW was catchier than the herp and simply awesome. i don’t have much to say about them besides they were a tonne of fun and you should listen to them, and maybe skank a little (people still skank, right?)

Tokyo Police Club: played much better than i thought they would, considering how boring i heard they were when they played the free show at The Starlight in Waterloo that Cagney and i missed out on. also, possibly the only band who’s been able to get away with using the word “Tesselate” in their lyrics thus far.

Cat Power: even though she has the coolest stage name i’ve ever heard, Chan Marshall would definitely have been better suited to a lounge or a jazz club than a giant outdoor festival. she’s definitely good, but she put me to sleep, considering the circumstances.

City and Colour: it was a nice surprise to see Dallas Green have a backing band as part of his solo project’s performance (which included members of Attack in Black, or so i’m told.) after a few songs, the band vamoosed and he played solo for a little while. we left partway through his set, though, with the intentions of beating the impending stampede of people back to the parking lot, and i’m glad we did, though it would’ve been nice to see the whole thing. unfortunately for Dallas, however, i think the majority of the crowd during his set was paying more attention to the enormous colour-chancing inflatable spheres of light that the event coordinators launched upon the audience than they were to him — but boy, were those giant alien beachballs ever fun!

as for points of interest, well … it was an outdoor festival. lunch was a six-dollar veggie burger and three-dollar water, and i passed up the six-dollar-a-cup domestic beer. the portable outhouses were surprisingly (comparatively) clean, possibly due to some of the persuasive commentary.

another neat little thing they had going on came in the form of the two huge video screens mounted on either side of the stage; they had it set up so that you could send a text message to a given number and — after going past a censor, obviously — they’d project it up on the screens, with newer messages bumping older ones up off the screens, chatroom-style. i managed to get Cagney’s name up there a few times (my guess is the censor doesn’t see her name every day and felt it interesting enough to broadcast), and Cagney, Steph and i managed to sneak in a few inside jokes, the sight of which we had some laughs at. also, a couple Rogers representatives clad in rain ponchos were walking around taking peoples’ pictures on an eight-gig N95, which were all uploaded to a special Flickr account by the time i got home around 1:30 or so. check out this happy concertgoing couple! note the presence of the umbrellas, the likes of whick were up and down and up and down and up and down throughout the day as the rain found itself unable to decide whether to pour torrentially or give us a break for a couple hours.

all in all, an awesome day! my knees, back, legs and feet were showing me some hostility after nine-odd hours of standing, as were Cagney’s, Steph’s and Liam’s (big ups to Liam for making the drive to Toronto and the harrowing drive through it!)

what a darling she is!

i’m always flattered and excited at random little gifts, no matter how large or small — and it fits me like a glove!

Cagney picked it up for me today whilst shopping with Candice before the two of them, Chris and myself met up for a showing of The Dark Knight this evening. there’s quite literally nothing i can say about this movie that hasn’t probably already been said more eloquently on IMDb or Rotten Tomatoes — this movie is damn near perfect.

one thought that lingers in my mind, though, is how sinister Heath Ledger’s portrayal of the Joker is. instead of the comic book version of the Joker played back in the day by Jack Nicholson, Heath’s Joker is truly a sinister, psychotic madman. from the detail (or deliberate lack thereof) of his makeup and hair to his speech and mannerisms, he’s a nutbar, through and through. and perhaps the most perturbing thing about him is how the most “insane” character in the movie makes the most sense (a dynamic also displayed in the scene involving the two escape boats, but i’ll say no more on that matter on account of spoiling it.) oddly enough, Heath’s Joker is the most grounded character in the whole movie and probably has the best grip on reality, regardless of his methods — the methods to his madness, to summarize. he’s an evil person, but you end up starting to agree with him.

anyways, go see The Dark Knight. now. order tickets online if you must. do not wait to rent. do not download it. go see it on a fifty-foot screen. a few times.

also, the symbolic parallels drawn between Harvey Dent and his coin as they relate to his overall theme of luck and fate — flawless.

looks like i’m going to see The Fullblast’s final set on July 30th after all! the show was originally supposed to be at The Reverb in Toronto, but was moved to The Opera House after The Reverb sold out and tickets were still largely in demand. the show was moved and 250 additional tickets were made available, and i consider myself lucky to have snagged one after missing out on the initial batch. and it was only $16 after Ticketbastard Ticketmaster service charges. hooray! lest we forget the treat of seeing A Wilhelm Scream headline the show.

tonight was yet another Phil’s night — mine and Cagney’s second electro Thursday night and my sixth time at Phil’s in the last two weeks, i think. there are times when i think i should lay off the place, but i usually find myself inside and on the dance floor by the time i’ve given that thought any serious consideration. oh well, fun is fun! Ashley ended up driving tonight, so i felt free to have a few drinks. i really don’t see the fuss everyone makes over alcohol, really; after three beers, i felt dizzy and slightly uncoordinated and i found myself slurring a little. while i’ll probably still end up trying getting smashed so i can gauge what i’m like when i’m fall-down drunk, i wasn’t really a fan of not being completely in control of myself. there’s a certain sense of empowerment that i feel when i’m having fun and dancing and i know that every move i make is deliberate and one i’m in control of. then again, i’m still buzzing a little, and i’m likely overanalyzing my own situation. but it’s no worries; no harm has been done, and it’s reassuring knowing i can have a blast without any booze at all, as i always have in the past!

anyways, it’s about bed time for me. i should probably get into the swing of going to bed and falling asleep before four in the morning, as i have a few early mornings ahead of me — early band practice on Saturday, up bright and early for the Rogers Picnic on Sunday and work next week, Tuesday through Friday, and god knows how early Joe usually gets up for that!

today’s been an interesting day, and by “interesting,” i mean “obscenely hot.” i took a bike ride to Paul and Laura’s place and was drenched in sweat by the time i got there. after doing a little business transaction (no, not drugs — online jewelry ordering), the three of us plus their new pug, Ruby, took a stroll to nearby Victoria Park for a little longboarding.

today was my first time on a longboard, and i tried riding both Paul’s and Laura’s boards; i like Paul’s dropped-deck board design, as it makes for a lower center of gravity, but his trucks were too tight for a guy my size (Paul’s got well over a hundred pounds on me.) Laura’s a little closer to my build, and her trucks were nice and loose and her boared turned like a dream. i’m seriously thinking about getting one of these marvelous things, if only i can justify it to myself. i do have my bike for cruising purposes, but we’ll see!

on my way home, i ran into yet another member of god’s grassroots publicity department, though this one was far less receptive to my attempts at dissenting conversation than the last. this one’s name is Carl, he’s 68 years old and he accepted Jesus Christ as his lord and saviour when he was at my current age of 22. upon receiving from him a pamphlet telling me of my “new life” and the plan god has for me, i more or less asked him to prove everything he was telling me, flat out. now, such a statement has likely been the spark for conversations that have raged on for years, but i wanted him to humour me (some may call my nitpicking at the overly pious schadenfreude, but i simply see myself as “relentlessly curious.”)

Carl seemed more than eager and willing to talk to me until i mentioned to him that my personal belief structure falls largely under the category of “athiest.” upon hearing that dreaded A-word leave my lips, he promptly told me that he doesn’t believe in that and went to rain pamphlets upon other unsuspecting pedestrians. i was a little taken aback, to be honest — why would Carl ignore me? i called after him, “helloooo! c’mon, convert an atheist here!” after all, isn’t that his job; the very reason he’s standing on the corner of King and Queen in downtown Kitchener in weather that would have to include a snowstorm to qualify as a hot day?

after convincing him to come back and chat with me a while, he pulled out his wallet, shuffled through it, pulled out a ticket to heaven and gave it to me, stating that i’d need it. i shit you not. if these streetcorner guys gave these tickets out instead of pamphlets, heaven would have to install revolving doors to keep up with the influx of automatically saved souls. but i digress …

when Carl came back to me, i told him that all i wanted in order to believe in god — to believe in anything — is proof. that’s all. if god can be proven to me, scientifically and beyond the shadow of a doubt, i’ll be the first to drop to my knees and repent. after all, i believe the key to my open mind is to humbly admit that i don’t know everything, and i’m always open to new ideas. and if said ideas can be shown to me as being factual, it would be ignorant and foolish to not embrace them and learn about them.

Carls’ proof of god’s existence, however, was a little thin. his first convincing argument was my very physical existence; the fact that i was standing before him was proof that i’m a creation of god. “um, no; i’m a product of thousands and thousands of years of natural selection. seriously, it’s been proven, can be seen and is tangible.” he then asked me if my parents are human like me. after forcibly shelfing my sarcasm and answering that they indeed are, he told me that they made me, and they are creations of god. reiteration of natural selection argument, lather, rinse, repeat.

Carl then tried to trump my argument by bringing up the calendar and time. he asked me what year it is, to which i answered, “2008.” aha! he exclaimed that the calendar we use we keep track of time is based on the death and resurrection of Christ, therefore he must exist.

“but Carl, the Chinese and Aztecs have completely different calendars, and their methods are no less legitimate than the Judeo-Christian calendar for keeping track of time. time is a man-made thing, and thusly cannot be used as evidence for a higher power.” to this, Carl retorted that he knows nothing of Chinese and Aztec calendars. “but Carl, just because you don’t know about it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist or isn’t true.” i don’t think i need to explain that this argument ran in circles.

my final question to Carl was this: “will god still love me even if i don’t believe in him?” after a prompt “no” from Carl, i asked him why, then, i was given the power of free will, which includes my ability to not believe in god. and if god made me in his image, why would he give me the ability to not believe in him? isn’t that sort of like god playing russian roulette with the human population — knowingly and willfully giving people the option to not believe in him, thefefore preemptively baiting them for an eternity of suffering in hell? hm. not a god i’d want to worship in the first place.

anyways, i bid Carl farewell and told him i’d see him in heaven eventually — if he’s in the right, of course.

after coming home and enjoying a little of my newfound social life-destroying addiction, i headed to The Boathouse at Victoria Park to watch The Gentlemen’s Club’s first set in nine or ten months. Lorissa, being the vagabond she is, took a trip to Denmark and stayed there for the better part of a year, and is actually moving back in a couple days for good. i have no clue what the rest of the band is going to do when she heads out for another extended period of time, but i still have hopes she’ll come back and visit and play shows. i’ll miss the lady! photos of their set can be seen here.

hell of a question. but i did pick up a new hat and new shoes today, the likes of which i desperately needed and really wanted, respectively. the hat thing was a bit of an issue — i lost my two favourite hats at Cagney’s place (my black and grey striped Vestal beanie at her old place and my brown plaid Foursquare brimmed toque at her new one — she seems to have a thing for inhabiting hat-eating apartments) and was utterly without a non-winter hat, non-bandana hair concealer for the summertime. bandanas work just fine for me, really, but i figured i’d look for something of the cap persuasion. after ruling out all manner of flexfit and Fidel caps for their lack of ability to sit far enough down on my gigantic head, i settled with the only type of hat that actually works on my noggin — fitted and flat-brimmed.

i feel i owe my throngs of devoted readers an explanation. see, when the whole flat-brimmed, fitted baseball cap thing exploded among hiphop and hardcore cliques alike, i immediately took a “break the brim, you look like a tool” stance. and i stood by it vehemently — until today, when i was dealt a humbling blow in the form of the realization that it’s the only damned style of summertime-worthy hat that i can actually pull off. everything else looks like a yarmulke on my head. i mean, i could rock a Fidel cap pretty well, but that was a stretch even, and when i had no hair. seeing as i’m currently cultivating a mop for the eventual sake of Cagney’s skillful shears, Fidel hats looking good on me are no longer the case, so i’ve been forced to sleep with the enemy a little … or at least shrug my shoulders and admit that i was wrong about everyone who looks like a tool for wearing a hat like the one i’m wearing right now.

also, as you can see, my new shoes look as though they’ve had superkid ice cream vomited onto them, and are thusly awesome. my brown Lakais have now been delegated to the position of Phil’s shoes, along with my Jamie Thomas model Circas and DVS Contras. plus i haven’t bought shoes in about a year, so i think i was due for these slick new Etnies.

(now that i’m done dropping brand names in a vague attempt to sound like i spend money on my appearance on a regular basis…)

i’m pretty excited for the small acoustic project Tim and i (but mostly Tim) have underway with Anuj at the helm of the makeshift recording booth in his closet. Tim’s been writing and arranging some new acoustic material that may take shape as PG songs, but if not, i could realistically see Tim releasing this music under his own name as a solo artist. speaking of music, i have this not-so-lofty aspiration of jamming with Anuj sometime and possibly taking him on as a fourth member of Phineas Gage, which would allow Tim to take rhythm guitar duties or put away the guitar entirely and step up as a dedicated frontman. the idea as a whole is in its infancy, of course, but the subject of Tim, Matt and myself jamming with Anuj was brought up casually between Anuj and myself, and the more i think about it, the more gung-ho i feel about it. so we’ll see what happens!

i should probably be on my way to bed soon, though — i have to get up reasonably early to mow the lawn, plus i think my trifecta of 4am Phil’s nights is catching up with me. i need to get back onto a poor sleep schedule (as opposed to the horrendous one i’ve been riding on) if i intend to be ready to leave town by eight in the morning on sunday for the Rogers Picnic, which i’m hoping will be more fun than a … well, a picnic, i suppose. woo!