January 2nd, 2005.

So many non-entries for soo long.

In Strasburg at the Pennsylvania Railroad Museum, Bob gave me pretty in-depth education on how to run a locomotive. There's a whole lot of knob turning and lever pulling. Not much button pushing. A lot of shovelling. Seems a LOT more satisfying than most dayjobs. — In Strasburg at the Pennsylvania Railroad Museum, Bob gave me pretty in-depth education on how to run a locomotive. There’s a whole lot of knob turning and lever pulling. Not much button pushing. A lot of shovelling. Seems a LOT more satisfying than most dayjobs.

Hell, it’s been Christmas. What a funny sentance that is.

Many adventures. Most of Christmas/Hannukah was spent with Heather’s family, extended and otherwise (sorry Mara, you’re Otherwise – though that would be kind of cool codename for you…. cause it also works as a threat… “You do what I say… Otherwise” – and then you come into the room and go all David on their ass… so maybe just David should be Otherwise… hrm… I’m going to get in trouble over this sentiment anywho). I met some fish and babies.

Hehe. Nowadays we go to Hell five times faster.

I forgot to drop my parents at the airport, but I did remember to pick them up, so that’s ok. There was cat-catching drama, and there were nights of mirth with Firedean. I got the Extended Lord of the Rings DVD trilogy for Christmas and am looking forward to spending about fifty hours straight watching ALL of it. I’ve watched a LOT of Friends. Tried to watch a lot of James Bond, but his mystique just isn’t what it was, and listened to the soundtrack instead.

We barely beat the snow back to Owings Mills. A LOT of snow. We missed some six inches of snow in Connecticut by about 24 hours. Thank goodness we skipped that open mic in Marion, PA.

We had an awesome Magic: the Gathering night last Thursday. Richard came over and made INCREDIBLE chicken parmesan – savoury, lucious, moist, dripping, curving, cunningly Lovely…. sinful… // ahem, and we combined that with the typically poor gamer fare of chips and salsa and chips and dips and chips and cheese and a bit of hummus. I won perhaps more than I lost, I think. But a couple of the losses were truly painful. I feel that I handed out more ass than I recieved, but it was a rough night, and I was sore by the time we went our separate ways.

It was a good burn. So good.

So, rather abruptly, this brings us to New Year’s Eve: Gwen threw a cocktail party, and Heather and I got all dressed up, shockingly clean and stunningly pretty, and took our finery out on the the town. Charm City stepped aside to admire our passage.

It was kind of fun to dress up, come downstairs, tell Mara to close her eyes – let her open them and, with Heather on my arm, use my Suave (pronounced “Swayvay”) voice to say “Yes, we’re ilyAIMY”. Gwen’s party was home to cool little presents, scorpions, a very odd gift exchange that began with an intense battle over “the Breakfast Club” and apparently ended with Heather recieving naked pictures of famous people. LJ made some announcements, but so as to not steal her thunder, I’ll not mention them here…

Heather and I cleaning up good for New Year's Eve. — Heather and I cleaning up good for New Year’s Eve.

And speaking of LJ – the first word of 2005 was “Fuck” and this immediately proceeded the launch of a champagne cork into the television, a ricochet, and ultimately a VERY nice catch by Brennan. I was impressed by his seemingly inhuman reflexes. I now believe he MIGHT be a mandroid. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve suspected this.

And that leads us less abruptly to What I Did Last Night…

PLOJ XXXI's spread. As usual, Mara's cookie cake stuff was a hit, as well as Brennan's caesar salad. Weirdly, my taboule went fast than his chicken, though. — PLOJ XXXI’s spread. As usual, Mara’s cookie cake stuff was a hit, as well as Brennan’s caesar salad. Weirdly, my taboule went fast than his chicken, though.

Chelsea and Beau didn't make it up, but Chelsea's parents did - we also had a clarinet player named Martin who found us through a write-up in the City Paper. — Chelsea and Beau didn’t make it up, but Chelsea’s parents did – we also had a clarinet player named Martin who found us through a write-up in the City Paper.

PLOJ XXXI – as always, I was freaking out pre-PLOJ. I am paranoid, and get really depressed, and my usual fear is that like… 20 new people will show up over the course of the night, but really spread out, and that NO REGULARS show up so that there’s nothing for the new people to see. I always have these nightmarish visions of empty rooms and disappointed, perhaps even disgusted faces.

A PLOJ first - Art brought a theramin! — A PLOJ first – Art brought a theramin!

An interesting side-effect of the night. As the evening wore on, our ages got a bit more homogenous until it was all just us 20-somethings. From there, there was nothing to pull us back from Gen-X 90's sing-alongs. Madonna, Tool, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Rage Against the Machine, Sublime, Four Non-Blondes. Never had THAT at a PLOJ before - I mean, one or two tunes, yes - but always someone would get fed up with it and bring it back. We went for HOURS like this. — An interesting side-effect of the night. As the evening wore on, our ages got a bit more homogenous until it was all just us 20-somethings. From there, there was nothing to pull us back from Gen-X 90’s sing-alongs. Madonna, Tool, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Rage Against the Machine, Sublime, Four Non-Blondes. Never had THAT at a PLOJ before – I mean, one or two tunes, yes – but always someone would get fed up with it and bring it back. We went for HOURS like this.

PLOJ XXXI was the 6th Year Anniversary of our Pot Luck Open Jams, and it goes down in PLOJ history as one of the best.

It was a rough start. I think Brennan and I have a slight disconnect on start time. I tell people that it starts at 6.30 or so – and Brennan tells people that things get rolling a little later. Now – Brennan’s theory is obviously that people shouldn’t be invited to get there until things are actually happening. My theory is that we’re inviting musicians, and that musicians are always late. Often REALLY late, and so I’ve brought my usual method of dealing with lateness to PLOJ and tell every one that it starts about two hours before I actually expect them.

And often, in fits of honesty, I ALSO mention that “things don’t actually get rolling till nine”.

Ah, foolish, foolish rob.

Wanda has come a long way. She seems not to have aged at all since I first met her back at Phantasmagoria with Strength in Hare. She's always almost viscerally struck me, but now she's really coming along with guitar. I remembered G chords and a sweet, quiet voice. However, she's picked up some vicious songs since then, and even led us in Soundgarden's "Spoonman". I was sorry that Jason missed THAT. He would've died. He might have even shot his friend in Pennsylvania. — Wanda has come a long way. She seems not to have aged at all since I first met her back at Phantasmagoria with Strength in Hare. She’s always almost viscerally struck me, but now she’s really coming along with guitar. I remembered G chords and a sweet, quiet voice. However, she’s picked up some vicious songs since then, and even led us in Soundgarden’s “Spoonman”. I was sorry that Jason missed THAT. He would’ve died. He might have even shot his friend in Pennsylvania.

I didn't catch his name - Chelsea's father, Chuck, brought him along - a guitarist from Mali! — I didn’t catch his name – Chelsea’s father, Chuck, brought him along – a guitarist from Mali!

This, of course, leads to a lot of lead time where me and a couple of other friends are sitting around, wondering if ANYONE is going to come. I mean, that gave me extra time to and help Tori with the cookies, and to sit outside and think about the error of my ways, and to flirt with people I didn’t know, but all in all – I stress myself over PLOJ far too much. And invariably, people show up, have a great time, and prove my fears foolish.

The night began with only a couple of musicians – Brennan and I and Tim and Rowan. I consider “critical mass” (start-point of PLOJ) to be when you’ve got four singer/songwriters there to go around. And Tim, though a consummate musician, isn’t really a solo performer, so I was REALLY nervous about starting, but … it was like 8pm or so, and something HAD to happen. And so I kicked off the night with “Rob’s Lament”, figuring there was no better way to start the night with a song about a car wreck that could turn into a train wreck since I didn’t know it very well. Slowly, things fired up – and PLOJ XXXI slowly grew into one of the best, and one of the most unique PLOJes ever, methinks.

One of the side-effects of the sing-along atmosphere of much of the night was that a lot of people who might have been merely audience members on most nights were encouraged to join in. I think this was Bunny's first time ever playing a drum... Dave Smith (above) has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of random songs and played just about anything anyone could think of. We narrowly avoided getting all the way through "Walk Like an Egyptian". — One of the side-effects of the sing-along atmosphere of much of the night was that a lot of people who might have been merely audience members on most nights were encouraged to join in. I think this was Bunny’s first time ever playing a drum… Dave Smith (above) has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of random songs and played just about anything anyone could think of. We narrowly avoided getting all the way through “Walk Like an Egyptian”.

The last couple of Pot Lucks have been ending by 1am, and I’ve sort of missed the real late-night Pot Lucks that just go on forever. It’s one of the things I truly miss about Living in Edgewater and having the PLOJs out there – not having to go home. Just playing until you’re exhausted and not giving a FUCK about what time it is. Last night was like that. And sure enough, I was shocked to look at the clock and see that it was 2.30am. It felt like 11 or something – and we went well past 3.

By the time we actually quit, I was exhausted, Brennan was sort of like the walking dead, and Heather just sort of collapsed.

The next morning (and by morning I mean noon) Tim popped by – he and Dave Smith had been absolute bad-asses the night before – Tim played on EVERYTHING, swapping between his Guild and the various basses that were floating around. I just stand amazed, watching him play. Somewhere he just exploded into being a guitar virtuoso – I guess he just hears the music in his head, and knows exactly how to put what’s in his head down on the fretboard. I could take lessons from him and be kind of blissfully happy – if I could keep up. Dave Smith was busy being pretty amazing too.