Weark Barometric Pressure | 05/30/04

Here I am looking at my back-up copy of the gig address. In clear letters it says 503. The original copy is in the Taurus, which I brought to the dealership for even more work on the alternator. In my infinite wisdom I made a reduced back-up copy. I managed to transfer the information correctly to my sheet but somehow transposed the digits on the directions that I handed out into a 204, a non-existent address. Fortunately for us, the tent was spotted at the right house and we were able to get set-up with no difficulties. The family was very nice and the residence was even more impressive than the mansion from last night. In the driveway was a brand-spanking-new 2004 Infiniti G-Series. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not really into cars but this was an impressive machine. Ok, I'm trying hard to follow Matt's tenet's of life and not become overwhelmed by mere possessions but geez...it's just a high school graduation, not the awarding of a Pulitzer Prize. Good for them, though, for making a success of themselves. The band went over well and we handed out a good number of info sheets and we were assured we would be back. We received a lot of compliments and were asked by a half-dozen people about our schedule for the rest of the summer. Go gigs! Although Matt didn't play these gigs with us, the five of us pulled it off really well. They had some really well-maintained cichlids in their living room as well as a couple of enormous plecos. Ah, one day I too will achieve a good life with more than cinder-block furniture.

After the gig we went to school to unload some of the equipment and then *bam*, the fire alarm goes off. The police and fire department came and as they were leaving they asked if someone knew Spanish to translate their code book to see the reason the fire alarm went off. Apparently they have a book with all the various fire alarm codes...but the book is only in French and Spanish. I volunteered to translate the selected section but even translated, they weren't sure how to fix the weak barometric pressure. Coincidentally, "weak barometric pressure" is not your typical Spanish phrase so I have to admit I'm proud of myself for getting it. Chris could have translated it in French but I got to be the hero since they asked for Spanish first.

Jamie took Chompy and The Ab to her parents' house and I took a much-needed nap. Once awake, Jamie came to pick me up and we met up with the rest of the group for a celebratory Olive Garden dinner. It was an interesting meal, complete with hysterical laughing. I would usual label myself as someone too cynical to laugh hysterically over anything but I was wrong. REALLY wrong. Jamie opened the dam on one of my embarrassing stories and once I told it I couldn't stop laughing. I can't believe the group of us, with nearly a dozen college degrees between us as well as some graduate degrees (for good measure), were that obnoxious in a restaurant. I don't think we were being particularly loud but we were all laughing pretty heartily. Once we got back, we picked up The Ab and hung out for a while.

The theme of the day was that we're really lucky to make money by playing music. Is it trite and cheesy? Oh yeah. But seriously, how many people toil at dead end jobs counting the days until they retire while we make $300/hr to play music? Man, we're lucky (and talented).




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