Nah, just some dude I know

You know you're in for a special night when, after setting up your drums, you experience the following exchange:

"Who's that on your bass drum?"

"Harry Truman."

"Like, the president?"

BonusCard

For those of you who don't know what OSHA is, they are a federal agency who police private workplaces in search of hazards to workers. If, for instance, your workplace happens to have zero fire extinguishers, or maybe the designated smoking room is adjacent to lots of bottled oxygen, OSHA will fine you and give you a neatly framed citation and ask you to display it for all potential employees to see. This is of course in theory a great thing.

But when the OSHA woman comes - unexpectedly, as always - she drills me for hours and I get the feeling she used to be a prosecuting attorney.
"Earlier you said you measured citric acid at the sink near the eyewash."
"Yes."
"Is that in the sink or near the sink?"
"In."
"Is that in the left or right basin?"
"The . . . right."
"Is that in the actual basin, or in a bucket you place in the basin and then pour water into."
"A bucket."
"Does the water go in first or the acid?"
"The water."
"Do you stir with a plastic, metal, or wooden spoon?"
"Plastic."
"Earlier you said metal. Would you like to retract that?"
"Yes, metal. No. Yes. I don't know."
"Would you like to retract that? Metal or plastic?"

But what got me through these four hours yesterday was the constant and comfortable reminder that I was at the end of my underwear drawer, and so I was wearing my silk boxers.

I Don't Think It Had Any Alcohol In It

BESIDES WALKING a virtual tightrope or running a virtual half mile on my Wii Fit, I've spent all my days of January running around in South Carolina and Georgia, taking pictures with a new vintage Diana camera that LC was given for Christmas. It's all plastic and pink and has no electronics or focus or flash or anything not fitting in the category of pink plastic. But what's cool about the Diana camera is that it never does what you want it to - the pictures you think are going to be nice are horrible, and the throwaways are awesome. So we figured this would be a good time for a road trip.

WE ALSO did the Polar Bear Plunge on January 1st on Tybee Island, just outside of Savannah. It was a nice event. About 1,000 people meet at a beach at noon, and they drop trou, revealing nice bathing suits in wintertime, and an announcer counts down from ten and we all run hysterically into the ocean, flail around, run out, and laugh uncontrollably. Then we eat snow crab and track sand all over the sheets of the most expensive hotel room in the world.

AND FINALLY, we drove all the way to Charleston to take an oyster shot. It took me ten hours to throw up.