They say there are moments in life so dramatic, so defining that you never forget where you were when it happened. The JFK assassination. 9/11. I remember it like it was just last Sunday... I was procrastinating when I reached for my phone to perhaps re-read a Dr. Cheese bass review or indulge in some of JimmyM's wisdom. I typed "t" into the search bar. Naturally Talkbass was the first autofill suggestion. I hit enter. Nothing happened. "The site cannot be reached" my browser said. Nonsense. I hit refresh. Same result. I jump over to the computer, perplexed as yet again I get the same result. Modem issues, I quickly and unconvincingly say to myself. The device resets and shows all green. The site still cannot be reached. Panic ensues. I quickly flip on the news - no reports of mass panic from the bass player community. I must have been one of the first to realize what actually happened: Talkbass was down. How was I supposed to move forward from here? Spend time practicing?? Actually hone my craft?! My bass beckoned from the corner of my room. Perhaps now, it thought, this digital blackout would rekindle our relationship. Nonsense. I dug through the basement for some old Bass Player magazines. It just didn't hit the same. No exuberant New Bass Day Posts. No effects threads where the topic appears to be focused on breakfast. Nothing. I settled in for the long haul. It became clear that this was no minor outage. Mentally preparing for the road ahead, I gingerly grasped my long-neglected P-Bass and began to play. The low frequencies once again gently shook the four walls surrounding me. A feeling foreign, yet distantly familiar. Like a letter from an old friend, I felt an emotion thought forgotten: fulfillment. I'm sure that many of you, like myself, will share your own harrowing tale of this week with our kin for generations to come. Every detail recollected in perfect focus, as if looking at a framed painting within your mind. So tell me, fellow low-enders? Where were you when it happened?