Futility Now

So we watched our “My First Place” episode at The Jupiter. Amusingly, the first place I went in Portland on the trip that set in motion the events that concluded with me moving here was The Doug Fir, the bar attached to The Jupiter. I don’t give much in the way of credence to the notion of synchronicity (although I do like “Synchronicity,” with the obvious exception) because it’s basically halfway to religion, but even I am capable of finding such things enjoyable.

At any rate, the episode was pretty horrible. I was fat as a walrus, and my head looked like a greasy sphere. Hazel’s hamming translated to hectoring in the editing room, and nothing interesting remained of the process. I took heart in the fact that the difference between my in the episode and me now constitutes a sort of testament to what a good idea doing Kung Fu turned out to be.