So I was hanging out at a friend's punk rock house party in Ithaca last night--5 or so bands, abundant qualities of beer and marijuana (of which I did not partake), coke being snorted upstairs by one of the bands (of which I
definitely did not partake--morons

)--and this dude with a curly mohawk and black plastic dork glasses walked up to me and said, "Hey, man, you wanna do some improv?" (I was wearing a King Crimson shirt, naturally.) I said, "Damn right!" After the last band is done playing, we started jamming on their equipment.
I ended up playing some weird harmonic-minor grooves on a Danelectro DC Bass with string spacing so narrow I could barely play fingerstyle, and with the strap about 18" below where I normally hang my basses. I don't drink or smoke the leaf, but my coordination was thrown off so much that for a few minutes it looked as though I
had been partaking of some psychotropic substances. Nevertheless, I was actually locking up with the drummer, who wasn't half bad. Sadly, the guitarist and "singer" were more interested in making ungodly noises than actually doing anything cool--but hey, this was a punk rock party. What few people were still left in the basement thought it was hilarious.
House parties are great fun--when it's not your house
