It strikes me now how similar my far-fetched dream of writing and being published is to scoring a record deal and making an income playing music. And I feel kind of bad for laughing at how silly they all are when, in all honestly, I am just as ridiculous.

But still, I sometimes see glimmers of those generalizations. For instance, the seriousness that is “the gig”. Meetings, two weekly practices, contracts, heated set list debates. It all strikes me as mildly amusing. Of the two times I’ve tried to have a meeting about KUWTB, it has quickly devolved into beer drinking and YouTube watching. Maybe I’ll reach that point someday and it won’t be so funny anymore. And probably with more consideration, practice, and conversation, I’d be a lot better at what I do. Although I doubt I’ll ever get any free bar tabs or flashes from drunk girls out of it.

Until then, I’ll allow myself the occassional chuckle and be hopelessly enthralled by weekly shows in the basement of a dilworth bar. Just be sure to kiss me a lot, mr. musician. Who needs principles, anyway?