Last Friday, the band was interviewed by a reporter from the City College of San Francisco's student newspaper, The Guardsman. I'd link to their site, but what it calls the "current issue" is dated December 8, 1999. Find it yourself if you want, but I won't be responsible for re-igniting Y2K hysteria.

The angle is that one of us is a student at CCSF. (Erick is taking the anarchy seminar, I think.) The interview probably reveals us for what we are, a few low-key guys who get together to rock every week, play some shows now and then, and have a record coming out, um, eventually. I think the reporter was disappointed that we weren't all ass-wild, snorting Southern Comfort and shooting up marijuana, and nary a groupie in sight.

Even the photographer made sure he got pictures of the Marshall stack behind Erick, which admittedly looks really cool, but is just stored equipment used by another band. (For any geeks keeping score at home, Paul and I, probably for no particular reason, use Fender amps.)

Reporter and photographer departed with nothing too juicy, and we got down to practicing in earnest. Later on we took a break, and all hell broke loose. Another band who shares our practice space was returning from a show they played, and from the looks of things, free drinks were part of their compensation.

It wasn't the all-time craziest behavior we've ever been exposed to. After all, we've played shows in Chattanooga. But still, it was a lot closer to what the reporter must've expected when he showed up. And yet, if we told him about it, having seen the first half of our practice, he'd never believe it.