Excuses, excuses.

You may have gathered that I’ve been busy lately, or consumed by lassitude. My posts have been infrequent and uncharacteristically terse. Heck, I haven't even had time to comment on other people's posts (though I have been reading them).

If you were thinking that I was engaged in a top secret espionage mission in Bhutan, you would be wrong. It’s just that I have a day job that has required a little attention these past few weeks. Much of that work has been fun and engaging; some has been challenging and not so much fun. In case you were wondering, the Oregon Children’s Theatre costume sale was a rousing success. The best news is that (as far as I can tell), the organization's staff has not yet written to the board of directors demanding that my performance be reviewed (as was the case for the Oregon Ballet Theatre's executive director).

A smidgeon of my time and creative energy has been dissipated by resuming the rock and roll lifestyle that I put aside when one of my musical compatriots headed to Europe on sabbatical last year (tough life). Upon returning to Portland, he cajoled the bass player and me into resuming what we ambitiously call “rehearsing” on Wednesday nights. We discovered that our year-long hiatus did nothing to improve the quality of our work as an ensemble, nor did our skills degrade appreciably. We were able to plow through the old play list with enough aplomb to convince us that could be ready for a public reunion in the near future.

Be warned: Sometime in the next four to eight weeks, expect to be pressured into dropping by a local boîte to be tortured by our unique brand of honky-tonk caterwauling. You may be surprised to find me sporting the Michael "What a Fool Believes" McDonald look: