My one year in a place that did the clock switch makes me so very happy I live somewhere that doesn’t. Vancouver is already gloomy in the winter, why change the clocks to make it start getting dark at 3? At least here in Saskatchewan it doesn’t get dark til 5 around the solstice.
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I like the bit where I get some US podcast hour early for a week.
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Flossy!
Glad to see you here!
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Next week says “hold my beer”.
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Oh, yes.
Deep breaths.
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I wuz hopin you’d show.
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For me it’s like there was this crusty old punk bar, dark and a little dirty, flyers plastering the walls, and I would wander on in to the back booth and all my friends old and new would be there sharing a pitcher of Old Style, laughing, arguing, discussing, occasionally dropping a quarter in the ancient jukebox full of random 45’s, or the Elvira Mistress of the Dark pinball machine in the corner. The place was rightly famous and storied, and sometimes a big act would play there, but for us it was mostly just a hang out. Over the years the management tried different gimmicks to attract better paying customers, maybe cleaned up a little, bought new chairs, put in a tv, but we just ignored all that stuff at our back booth, milking that pitcher and shooting the shit.
Then the other day I go and there’s a bouncer at the door telling me that they’ve become a private club with a door charge. My heart sinks - I’m broke! What am I gonna do now? Don’t worry, says the bouncer, you’re cool - lifetime free VIP pass for all you old regulars! I wipe the tears of joy from eyes and enter- but the place has been remodeled. The layers of flyers have been replaced with giant HDTV screens. The bar is all expensive cocktails - no Old Style at all, much less pitchers. Elvira has been replaced with some stupid VR game, and instead of the eclectic jukebox, preprogramed Top-40 blares nonstop so loud you can’t have a conversation. And the booth - the booth is just gone. Along with all my friends.
I stagger out into the back alley about to throw up as I realize that every meaningful and positive social interaction I’ve had in the last ten, fifteen years was in that dark booth, and now I am abandoned, alone and forgotten.
Just then I hear a familiar voice say “Hey man, we’re over here!” I follow to an anonymous little dive bar I never knew existed. Tears of joy again as I open the door and see that all my friends are here, the Old Style costs even less, and the place is even darker than the old bar was!
I am home!
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Beautiful, love the analogy. 
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You’re one of the people everyone really hoped would get here, darlin.’
All great blessings to you and yours.
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(Thank you for that)
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Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes
Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home
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I for one welcome this popular loss of insanity due to black box theater! (Down with telling people to do their own WTF 12 episode humidity-driven performance space hustle workshop. Good clean wet market equity [chthulu: Right now I’m buying you in a bucket! This appeals!] calamari FTW.) eta: Saw Kevin Kelly’s email about a rate card for a thing today. Wow Melizmatic and mindysan33, hope to tank up your inspo during the Harris Administrations then, whoa. [Sad Keneau on the side of a Matrix humanpower pod waits for Pod Services Help Chat to finish fake slowa-- typing.]
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Good t’see ye! Pull up a barrel!
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You said it well!!!
I haven’t been able to even take time to process let alone actually participate this month. But I’m so glad to be able to see familiar faces talking to each other here. The new place feels lonely and like walking into a random discord 
I hope y’all are doing ok though. I’m glad you made it onto the ark of elsewhere.
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I’m glad to both be here, and have you around. And as you already know but bares repeating, if you need anything make it known 
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