Tonight we run through the set one last time to ensure my drum normalization is spot on, and that we haven't somehow forgotten these songs which have been rehearsed ten million times. Not likely? Oh, it could happen. Stress and all. I don't think it will, though. We'll also practice breakdown, setup, and make a checklist for equipment. This is all very organized-sounding. We are professionals, no? No. We have one vehicle, which can't transport all the gear and people at once. Our CD player is a loaner. Our merchadise is non-existant or necessarily free to avoid copyright infringement. We'll do OK at the gig. It's one of many. The newest thing will be my guitar rig. That has been in the works since the beginning of the band.

My cabinet and rack would look at home on the Battlestar Galactica. They look and sound excitingly chunky! Strangely, I'm not terribly hot to go out and play this gig. So much can go wrong, and I don't feel everyone is totally on board. Brian, in particular, is ambivalent at best about his place in the band. His depressive tendencies are causing him to question his skills, relevance, and general place in the universe. I suppose it isn't really about the band, it's mostly about his brain chemicals causing him to feel bad about whatever's handy. I don't think you need to be wildly successful at something to enjoy doing it. Example: my skateboarding career! I'm comical at the best of times, yet I enjoy scuffing about and hurting my ankles. If only I could buffer some of his brain chemistry, I'm sure he'd enjoy this enterprise and realize his ability to contribute a lot more. Meantime, I just try to get things done and not worry too much about the big hairy explanation.