I usually unwind after work by playing the piano for a half hour or so. I was having a pretty good jam, trying to work out Sweetness by Jimmy Eat World, a catchy tune that seems far less catchy as a piano solo. There is a loud knock at the door. I realize then I'm playing really loudly, and I even wonder how long the visitor may have been trying to get my attention. I answer the door, and it's a young man, maybe 19 or 20, asking me, "Was that you playing?"
"Oh, yeah. You could hear that?"
"Do you write music?"
"Uh, from time to time."
"Could I hear you play?" I realize at this point that it's not even six and I'm wearing pajamas. I invite him in. He tells me he wants to be a singer and he's interested in getting some studio time to cut a demo. I think he said his name was Tod. Or Ted. Let's say Ted. Anyway, Ted is looking for someone to help him write songs and stuff. He hung out in my little studio for awhile and I showed off a little on the piano.
I have no interest in helping Ted. Or Tod. He lives in my neighborhood and I expect he'll probably stop by again. I'm just too busy with my sidework -- my extreemly well-paying sidework -- to help this kid kick-start his pop music career. I tried to give him that impression without being too rude or blunt. I'm usually not rude or blunt until the third time I meed someone.
Anyway, so that was my bizarre experience for the week.
The rest of the night was kind of a waste. I didn't get nearly as much work done as I had planned to, but that is the usual case lately. I kept getting phone calls. First from brother Tom IV, then from Delaware Chris (cmessina). Then I chatted with Danielle. That girl really cracks me up. I'm glad we've become friends.
Anyway, today is Friday. Time to make up for a week's worth of slacking.