I hate to beat the word "Wacky" to death, but that's the kind of day it was. Kris had started work at 530 am, to tend the frantic Memorial Day Sale at Guitar Center. I had been up since who knows when making my house neat. I went down to visit him near the end of the work day and found him hiding behind a stack of bargain guitar strings. "I think I'm devolving," were his first words to me.

I started the long and complicated process of buying the things I needed, then wandered around the store casually observing the thrift. The find of the day was a genuine Bob Moog ring modulator. (This item may take several days to officially change ownership.) Of course, I was in the perfect mood for a signal processor which turns guitars into anaesthetized shortwave radios, so I'm glad they had one around that wasn't quite completely bought.

It rained on the hills
On the just and the unjust
Also, on my car.

A long band meeting occurred, since the practice space is closed on this holy day. We discussed our intended actions for the next two months, and my palm pilot got loaded with malicious plans. While scheduling my youth away, I came across a day that was completely blocked off to one activity. Saturday, June 2nd. "Hunh," I thought (yes, I think audibly), "what's so damn important that it takes from 1 am to midnight to do?" Well, it turns out that I'm to spend that day getting used to being a nonfractional year older. When I'm 25, I'll have custom earplugs and my car will have had its first checkup under my responsibility. (Wednesday and Friday)

What is good about being 25? Does it mean anything? My employer thought I was 26 or so when I was 22. In general, people already estimate my age at 2 to 6 years older than I am. As far as I'm concerned, officially being 25 is about as important as officially being a Fan. It is important, though, to one type of person in specific who can make my life easier: actuaries! My car insurance will suddenly drop in price, and I'll be able to rent vehicles without the 10 or 20 dollar per day penalty attached to demographic irresponsibility. According to my demographic, I should be running into things and getting pulled over for speeding. It's good to know I'm keeping up with all the kids.

Okay, perhaps it was not a very wacky day. I had very few madcap adventures, and my shenanigans were strictly of the low- or mid-speed variety. I don't think I even participated in a single caper, excepting the part of the day when I went to pick up Kris from Subway and he was simultaneously traveling to my point of origin.

I got to use my seat warmers tonight. It was a cold, solitary drive home.