A day in the life...

So, Wednesday I knocked off work a little early, having not finished my awesome Hack-a-thon[tm] project. I met Lady Scotch at the BART station, where we hustled ass to the airport. Our destination: the unholiest of places. The belly of the beast. That city whose name we dare not speak aloud. Los Angeles. Birthplace of Road Rage. Ground Zero of the Botox craze. Et cetera, et cetera... What on earth would lure us to such a destination? A concert, of course.

Specifically, we were there to see Office at The Troubadour. An old friend of Scotch's is the keyboard player, so I attempted to rig a surprise trip wherein friends would reunite and rock and roll would be jumped around to. The surprise was thwarted when several friends were sloppy in their use of discretionary communication, but we were still excited - Scotch to see her old friend play, and me to see one of my new favorites play live.

It was a great show... Office is amazing. Their album is awesome and their live show was a fucking blast. They played the shit out of that place.

After their set, we retired to the back bar so K and her friend could catch up. While there, I noticed the bass player of one of my favorite bands, OK Go, had walked in, so I decided to say hello and thank him for being awesome. I said, "so are you just here supporting another great Chicago band?" and he told me that he and K's friend were also old friends. Sweet. Not wanting to be a gusher, I bid him good evening, but he eventually found his way over to our table and while K and her friend reminisced, Tim and I had great conversation about various topics, including music and bands of course, but also things like favorite cities, barbecue restaurants, and home prices. He was a cool guy and he firmly insisted that I listen to "Discovery" by Daft Punk at my earliest convenience.

I'm familiar with Daft Punk, but I'd never taken them (it?) seriously, as it just falls in the dance music category for me. But, when someone you respect musically makes a recommendation, you take it, and that's what Rhapsody is for. So, I'm currently rocking the aforementioned album and I have to say that it's registering about an 8.9 on the ass shaking Richter scale. While it's true that it is just dance music, it's pretty fucking awesome, musically. The arrangements and instrumentation are incredibly funky, and the whole thing just grooves. Call me a Daft Punk fan, I guess.

I won't bore you with details of the rest of the trip. Suffice to say that after 24 hours in that place, we were happier than ever to return home. Scotch made a beeline for the shower the second we walked in the door and Rudy showered me with love, despite being aware that my scent was definitely not the same.

One more thing of note - in addition to her many other endearing qualities, Scotch is one of the most fun travel partners I've had the pleasure of flying with. We made ourselves laugh so fucking hard while making fun of the pilot last night that I'm sure we're on some DHS watch list now. Good times.