#School of Engineering & IT

[townpostin]

ARKA JAIN University Hosts Series of Prestigious Conferences

ARKA JAIN University becomes a hub for intellectual discourse with upcoming conferences across various departments, focusing on groundbreaking ideas and discussions. ARKA JAIN University is set to host a series of conferences, bringing together scholars, researchers, and industry experts for stimulating discussions on diverse topics. JAMSHEDPUR – ARKA JAIN University is abuzz with intellectual…

[jcmarchi]

2024 MIT Supply Chain Excellence Awards given to 35 undergraduates

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/2024-mit-supply-chain-excellence-awards-given-to-35-undergraduates/

2024 MIT Supply Chain Excellence Awards given to 35 undergraduates

The MIT Supply Chain Management Master’s Program has recognized 35 exceptional students from eight renowned undergraduate programs specializing in supply chain management and engineering across the United States.

Presented annually, the MIT Supply Chain Excellence Awards honor undergraduate students who have demonstrated outstanding talent in supply chain management or industrial engineering. These students originate from institutions that have partnered with the MIT Center for Transportation and Logistics’ Supply Chain Management master’s program to expand opportunities for graduate study and advance the field of supply chain and logistics.

In this year’s awards, the MIT SCM Master’s Program has provided over $900,000 in fellowship funding to 35 deserving recipients. These students come from respected schools like Arizona State University, the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Lehigh University, Michigan State University, Monterrey Institute of Technology and Higher Education in Mexico, Penn State University, Purdue University, and Texas A&M University.

Recipients can use their awards by applying to the MIT SCM program after gaining two to five years of professional experience post-graduation. The fellowship funds can be applied toward tuition fees for the SCM master’s program at MIT or at MIT Supply Chain and Logistics Excellence (SCALE) network centers in Spain, Malaysia, Luxembourg, or China.

Founded in 1973, MIT CTL is one of the world’s leading supply chain education and research centers. MIT CTL coordinates more than 100 supply chain research efforts across the MIT campus and around the globe. The center also educates students and corporate leaders in the essential principles of supply chain management and helps organizations to increase productivity and improve their environmental performance.

Founded in 1998 by the MIT CTL, MIT SCM attracts a diverse group of talented and motivated students from across the globe. Students work directly with researchers and industry experts on complex and challenging problems in all aspects of supply chain management. MIT SCM students propel their classroom and laboratory learning straight into industry. They graduate from our programs as thought leaders ready to engage in an international, highly competitive marketplace.

[mothmanmalewife]

taking an electrical engineering course is statistically the most likely thing to cause someone to become a luddite (<- not a real fact)

[steddieas-shegoes]

headcanon- steve secretly being insanely good at something, maybe chess or something similarly associated with intelligence. when everyone finds out they are surprised and doubtful leading steve to have the realization "oh. you guys genuinely think I'm stupid."

Steve loved seeing how things worked, he had since he was too young to actually figure things out by himself.

He got caught pulling apart his dad’s office calculator when he was nine, insisted he could put it back together, and did.

It took him a week, but he did it.

Then it was the house phone.

Then his desk lamp.

The toaster.

He always got them back together and working, but his parents weren’t very pleased if they caught him in the process.

Still, he loved the feeling of understanding how certain wires connecting meant something would light up or how one color wire would make something produce a number and another would produce power.

He continued doing it with random objects for years.

The concussions made it harder, his vision going blurry if he focused a little too long on a small part of the technology, his frustration making it even worse.

When Eddie found out, he gave him an old amp that wasn’t working anymore, said it probably would never work again but he could take a look inside.

Steve got it working in two days.

Wayne gave him their VHS player when it stopped rewinding, didn’t want to have to buy a new one even if they did have the money for it now. He had it fixed in four hours.

The oven in the new Munson home randomly stopped working, so of course Steve was called.

He came during Hellfire, ignoring the strange looks as he waved and made his way straight to kitchen.

He got to work, humming to himself as he made sure electricity was cut off from it, that there was no gas hookup anywhere, and pulled it from the wall.

The wiring inside was relatively straightforward, and he saw the problem almost immediately.

A loose wire connecting from the heat source to the controls. Easy fusing. Done.

He tested to make sure it was fixed, and ten minutes later, he was calling Wayne at work on the house phone to let him know it was fixed.

When he turned around, Dustin and Lucas were standing in the doorway, mouths open.

“You’ll catch flies like that. You know Eddie leaves the windows open all the time.”

“You fixed the oven?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“By yourself? Like the inside of it?”

“Yeah?”

“How? That’s so many wires and stuff.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“That’s like, electrical engineering shit.”

Steve realized what was happening just as everyone else walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. You guys don’t think I’m smart enough.”

He felt like he hit a brick wall.

“What’s going on?” Eddie came to stand next to Steve, arm wrapping around his waist.

“We didn’t know Steve was smart.”

The words were unintentionally harsh, but Steve and Eddie flinched anyway.

“Steve’s incredibly smart. He fixes all kinds of things.”

“Eds, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. They know better than to make assumptions about someone based on grades in school or how they understand certain things.”

Steve shrunk into Eddie’s side, doing his best to hide his face while he held back tears.

“You can all apologize or you can leave.”

There was silence for a moment and Steve was almost convinced that they’d all left.

He turned his head to see everyone staring at him.

“We’re sorry, Steve. Really. Eddie’s right. We shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t super smart just because you didn’t do well in school or don’t understand us when we ramble.”

Will was always a good kid, maybe his favorite at the moment.

“‘S okay guys.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened on his waist for a moment.

“So do you fix all kinds of stuff or just appliances?”

“I like to take stuff apart and put it back together. Sometimes I just end up fixing something along the way.”

“So you could look at my walkie?” Max piped up. “It keeps going to static in the middle of me talking.”

“Sure. Probably just a disconnected wire between the speaker and the button.”

Max beamed back at him, not just happy he would try to fix it, but proud.

Everyone started asking if he could fix things they had, surprised when he agreed to it all.

They filtered back out to the dining room area where they played, except for Dustin.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re stupid or anything. I know you’re not stupid. I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have been; you’re always finding the crossed wires with us and fixing those.”

Steve pulled him into a hug.

“People aren’t nearly as easy as electronics, dude.”

“Yeah, but you make it look that way.”

Steve quickly became the group’s engineer, always fixing what was broken, whether it was a flashlight or a bad day. He was pretty good at putting things and people back together.

[apomaro-mellow]

Built for Loving 1/? Read on AO3

Another one from the steddie fic adopt community:

Eddie lands his dream job at a robotics facility that's best known for its pleasure bots. He doesn't mean to make a bot of his old high school crush but the design gets approved all the same. Problems begin to arise when the customer lodges complaints about the android.

Eddie had always messed with whatever he could get his hands on. When he lived with his parents, it caused trouble and he quickly learned that whatever he took apart, he should know how to put back together. It wasn't until he started living his his uncle as he reached adolescence that this particular quirk was encouraged. The first couple of weeks were awkward.

They loved each other and Eddie trusted his uncle. But a weekend visit was different from "both of my parents went to prison and I have nowhere else to go". But all it took was his Uncle Wayne walking in on him disassembling an amp and then everything fell into place.

Eddie knew his uncle worked with his hands too, but not the specifics. It turned out he was an actual robotics engineer. Wayne downplayed it, saying he just did repairs on defective bots, that he wasn't anyone special, but that sounded like Eddie's dream job. And it was for a while. Eddie was on his best behavior, he went to school and got good grades because he knew these places only hired people with degrees.

College was no picnic, both the classes and paying for it was a test of endurance for Eddie. But he struck gold when he graduated. He never thought he'd be the kind of guy to say he had connections, but Wayne was able to get him an interview. And thanks to the awards from the robotics competitions and glowing recommendation letters from some of his professors, Eddie got the job.

He was about to start living his dream. Although his dream had changed since he was a kid. Eddie had forged a new passion during his late nights, drawing up blueprints and designs. He no longer wanted to simply repair robots. He wanted to design and build his own.

And there was no more prestigious position than that of Android Art Director. Especially for the company at the top of the android business, Brenner Ventures. Everybody wanted a Brenner Bot. They made all kinds, med-droids, nannybots, and tutor trons, but the most popular and most expensive were the entertainment automatons. That was their official moniker from the company. Most people called them pleasure bots.

A plethora of skills could be programmed into them but no one was using their human-like throats for singing. Eddie had never owned one. He'd only seen them from behind the glass of window displays. Even in college, he'd only gotten to see them a handful of times in the lab. Pleasure bots busted beyond repair but broken down to be used as a teaching model. Unlike other kinds of robots, people didn't readily parade them around. They'd be ordered discretely and then kept in the home of the buyer to be used however the customer pleased.

Eddie was no prude, he didn't care what people used to get their rocks off. It was the idea of creating something almost human. As close as they could possibly get. And after about a year on the bottom rung (customer service, repair, automaton editing) he had finally arrived. He got the email inviting him to a Research and Development meeting. He attended, noting how he was the youngest in the room. And then at the end of it, he was given his first real job as an art director.

He was going to design and build his first pleasure bot.

The client had filled out the request form and it was quite simple. White, male, 20s, no taller than 5'10 but no shorter than 5', brown eyes and hair. Eddie could see why he'd been given this task. On paper, it looked rather plain. Fleischer was giddily drawing a bot with an impossible waist while Bird had to figure out how to give one Rapunzel length hair that didn't tangle or mat.

Senior Art Directors got the first pick of client requests and they always went for the challenges. Eddie, as the new meat, got what they considered boring. But Eddie knew it wasn't all about what was on the form. It was what you made of it. He sat at his desk, monitor on and started with the basic build. The face was the most important part to these people, so that's what he started with.

No notes had been given on personality besides "agreeable, submissive" which wasn't much to work on, so Eddie got to imagining. He thought about the type of guy he'd want, which felt like an easy place to start. It took a couple of hours into drawing the face, erasing what didn't feel right just to draw a very similar line anyway, to realize he was drawing Steve Harrington.

Steve hadn't said two words to Eddie in high school and yet he'd been obsessed. A guy who ran through girls like toilet paper and so everyone pegged him as the playboy. But Eddie had spent long enough watching him from afar to read the yearning on his face. Imagine that, someone so beautiful who longed for love and yet never found it? Eddie hadn't seen him in years, made he'd found love by now. Found a nice girl to settle down with perhaps. But who was to know?

Once the thought was in his mind, Eddie couldn't let it go. If he did nothing else in this world, he had to let Steve be loved. Which meant he had to build this bot right. He did what he could at the office but ended up bringing his work home with him. Because it was only there that he had the material he needed.

He had to rifle through some boxes to find it, but there it was - an old notebook from his senior year. The year when his obsession with Steve reached its peak. Inside of it were dozens of sketches of Steve. Not just his face too. Eddie had drawn his profile, his hands holding objects, his legs in those stupid basketball shorts, his torso when they played shirts vs skins.

"God, someone should lock me away for this", he said before getting up from the box and taking the notebook to his computer.

He spent the better part of the night, finishing his design, using his sketches as references. One thing about the usual clientele for pleasure bots was that they were loyal. Once they bought one they liked, they held onto it, insuring it, getting regular repairs, sometimes even traveling with them if they were to be gone for a while.

Eddie would never get to tell the real Steve how he felt. But in his own strange way, he'd be making sure Steve felt that love somehow. Obviously overtime didn't exist in the Brenner Bot employee manual, but Eddie didn't care. This is what his whole life had been leading up to.

"You look like shit Munson. The bland bot givin' you that much trouble?", Fleischer said when he came in the next morning.

"I finished his design last night, actually", Eddie beamed, reveling in how his co-worker's face dropped.

Fleischer quickly picked it up. "Still gotta have it approved. And then the build. You sure you're up for it?"

Eddie shrugged. "If I can't handle a bland bot, then I wasn't meant for this job."

His design was anything but bland. Steve was anything but bland. He was beautiful, gorgeous even. The feelings that had cooled thanks to the separation had burned as bright as ever last night. Eddie sent his design to be checked. He'd played it off in front of others but he didn't know what he'd do if any part of it was critiqued or turned down.

It was checked in house first to make sure it met company standards, then sent off to the client to make sure it was what they wanted. Eddie waited for an excruciating 48 hours before the email came in.

Company Approved: Yes

Client Approved: Yes

Part 2

[animatronicappreciation]

Just a quick comment to say as someone who thought about designing animatronics unironically during high school, it's cool to see a blog like yours exists! I feel like there's so much untapped potential with animatronics given modern advancements, yet, it seems like a bygone thing still. It's a little strange to me. I look forward to appreciating them alongside like-minded people. ✨️

Well thank you very much, friend! I also wanted to design animatronics when I was young, but I was more on the art side than the tech side. I had my own animatronic band I designed hehe!

It truly is sad that animatronics outside of major theme parks like Disney and Universal seem to be a concept of the past. Personally, I don't believe that the general public has really grown out of the concept as much as corporate bigwigs seem to believe. I think that, instead, the technology outgrew the concept, or at least what we were able to have on an everyday consumer level.

Like, for example, Chuck E Cheese, which is many people's first foray into the animatronic community. The Creative Engineering and Cyberamic bots are very much a product of their time. They're clunky, they move unnaturally, they're dated, and they were incredibly poorly maintained in most cases. A lot of kids ended up being afraid of them as they aged so poorly. And who can blame them when CEC's employees just didn't seem to care? One time, I walked into the Omaha, NE CEC and Pasqually was disconnected, and his face mask was removed and placed on the amp next to him. The kids were terrified!

CEC tried to move into the modern era back when Studio C was conceived, and the Garner Holt products are admittedly impressive, even to this day. As far as pneumatic animatronics go, they run remarkably smoothly, and they are quite realistic compared to the source material! But the bots were too expensive to justify a full cast of characters, which was the beginning of the end, in my opinion. The characters only being present on the screens essentially killed the rest of the band. No one when I was growing up knew the names of the other characters or why they were even on the screen in the first place.

And, of course, eventually the Garner Holt bots too began to wear down with age and lack of maintenance, and they got a bit scary in some cases too! Ripped face masks, heads spinning around like owls, movements going out... kids were bound to be scared of that just as much as the cyberamics and CEI bots!

Then, with changes such as the removal of the curtains, no leadup to the show starting, volume being turned down, et cetera, there was nothing that attracted the kids TO the show. It was just an underutilized asset rotting in the background because there was nothing making it a focal point. Additionally, I think the cessation of the usage of license songs as a cost-cutting measure shot CEC in the foot, since it made kids care even LESS about the show. Having recognizable songs you could sing and dance to was a draw, and taking that away made the show even more irrelevant.

To get back on the topic of tech outpacing the concept of animatronics in places like CEC, think back to the Garner Holt bots. Those guys were pretty pricey when they were first introduced, and CEC nearly went under because of the attempt to convert every store to Studio C. Imagine, if you will, a concept like CEC or similar trying to have a show with modern, even MORE advanced animatronics! It's just simply not feasible, especially not in our current turbulent economy. And CEC has shown that even when places DO have animatronics, it's a matter of upkeep, which many places aren't willing to do. Minimum wage, minimum effort, right? (Not that I disagree with that concept in the slightest)

If you look at Rainforest Cafe, even they have been cutting costs with their existing stores. My local store, the Grapevine Mills location, removed their Atlas fountain some years ago (to this day the smell of mildew makes me nostalgic because of that fountain xD), and in their place, they put a family of tigers. These tigers are SIGNIFICANTLY lower quality than the rest of the animatronics in the store. They're jerkier, they move unnaturally, their cosmetics are clearly cheap... it's more than evident that they were cobbled together with as little money spent as possible. Does this make sense in a dying chain like Rainforest Cafe? Sure. But it certainly ruins the immersion, in my opinion. In my most recent visit, the tigers weren't even operational! It was pretty sad to see.

BUT. All is not lost! With the FNAF generation starting to grow up, kids and young adults are more interested in animatronics than they have been in a long while! Maybe someday it'll be feasible for a new animatronic restaurant or store to pop up! Something like CEC or Rainforest Cafe or FAO Schwarz where you can go and watch bots perform! We can only hope, I suppose.

-Mod Possum

[maxinemaxmayfield]

you don't have to stare, come here, get with it

Eddie hates his summer job cleaning pools for rich assholes, but he needs the money. When one of those rich assholes turns out to be Steve Harrington – who is apparently a big fan of sunbathing in the nude – Eddie's shitty summer takes a turn for the better.

explicit | steddie | 3.4k

Eddie needs this job. He hates that he needs it, hates that he spends his days sweating his ass off, sun beating down on the back of his neck while he cleans up the stupid, impractical outdoor pools that rich people have decided they just need to have, even though they can’t even use them for the majority of the year. Stupid fucking waste-of-money status symbol.  Yet, here Eddie is, mid-July, climbing into his van. He misses making his money ripping off the rich kids of Hawkins, selling them overpriced weed, but with school over and vacations and not being able to eavesdrop about parties in the halls, Eddie’s savings are drying up fast.  So, he supposes, he’ll just have to rip off their parents. Wayne helped him snag a gig working for Pool Shark Cleaning & Servicing, so he doesn’t even have to do all the cold-calling and promoting, just gets a list of clients and off he goes, usually not having to say much more than, “I’m here to clean your pool, I’ll be out back for the next hour or two,” which earns him a shrug or short reply, and off he goes. Easy-peasy. The back of his van is loaded up with cleaning gear and chemicals instead of the usual guitars and amps. With a sigh, he looks down at the list of properties for today and starts the engine, setting off for the first address.  By the time it hits noon, Eddie feels disgusting. His hair’s piled up on top of his head, but tendrils keep falling down, sticking to his sweaty neck and forehead. His shirt is soaked all the way through, and he smells of chlorine and sweat.  He loads all his gear back into the van and scans the list for his next stop. Not too far away – Loch Nora. Harrington. Eddie rolls his eyes. Of course the Harringtons have a goddamn pool.

[keep reading on ao3]

[hatsukeii]

12:51 FM / K. AKAASHI

BROWSE EPISODES HERE

-PROLOGUE: 12:51 AM-

01:43 ━━━━●───── 15:58 ◁ PREVㅤ ❚ ❚ ㅤNEXT ▷ ㅤ

warning(s): use of y/n (format)

wc: ~1.0k

Akaashi: Is this thing...working?

Y/n: Course it is! Hear that? It's whirring, that means something has to be working.

Akaashi: You know what else whirred? My old laptop that blew up in physics last month.

You tap the microphone, and a high pitched ring sounds from the speakers. Akaashi slaps the headphones on, forgetting that they are connected to the two microphones.

Y/n: Ow! What the hell?

Akaashi: You haven't put the windscreen on yet! Mute the mic!

One hand over your left ear, the other hand scrambles for the mute button to stop the ringing, and Akaashi breathes a sigh of relief as the auditory torment comes to an end. You let go of your ear, now shuffling through papers and packaged food for the foam cover that has been buried beneath them. You manage to fish out a ball of tangled cables, the black piece of foam trapped in between. Pulling and threading wires through each other, they loosen enough to release the windscreen from their mess, and you stretch it over the metallic mesh of your microphone.

Y/n: There, is that better? I think it's better.

Akaashi: Much better.

Y/n: It's official, sound engineering is my future calling.

Akaashi: The last time you used my guitar amp, you almost blew up the insides plugging a bass into it. Please stay far away from sound engineering.

Y/n: You're no fun Keiji. Loosen up! Relax!

Akaashi: I'll relax when I walk us out of this studio in one piece. Why is the mic still whirring? I don't like that.

You clear your throat, before snatching a pack of melon bread and ripping open the plastic wrap haphazardly. Crumbs land on the pop filter of your microphone, and Akaashi clicks his tongue, swiping them off gently from beside you. From the recording booth, two bells sound simultaneously- the muffled, distant class bell from the neighbouring high school, and the booming lunch bell of Fukurodani. 12:51 pm.

Y/n: Hello hello to Fukurodani High! God, this is a really weird time to be broadcasting, isn't it? I mean, who starts lunch almost a whole hour after noon? Like, just pick twelve, or like twelve thirty, right? Even twelve fifty would've made more sense. Why twelve fifty-one?

Akaashi: Yeah, but that gives us a killer podcast name, doesn't it? 12:51 AM sounds way better than 12:50 AM.

Y/n: That's- good poi- Keij- input is- crashed?

Akaashi's audio cuts off, popping and crackling through his headphones as you continue to speak. He clicks his tongue, flicking the mic once, twice, and a third time with his finger. When that doesn't work, he cranks the mic clamp, and curses beneath his breath just quietly enough to not be picked up by the microphone. Pushing and twisting it around, he finds the perfect position, just above his head, angled upwards ever so slightly. Yes, he has to crane his neck for the duration of the podcast, and he can already feel the muscles in his shoulders tensing. But he can hear your voice perfectly this way, the silent humming of static buzzing unobtrusively beneath your talking. He's going to feel the strain at volleyball after school, but this is close enough to perfect for the broadcast.

Y/n: Alright, it's registering again.

Akaashi: I give it another five minutes to cut out again.

Y/n: Man, can't the school fund for a better PR system or something? Keiji, remember that one time we had a bomb threat and the announcement wasn't working in our classroom?

Akaashi: Yeah, this might just get us killed one day. To any teachers listening to this, can we please get a PR system upgrade?

Y/n: And that's not even the worst part! We're using AM radio at the moment, but if only we could use FM... not like anyone would notice the difference anyways.

You take a bite of your melon bread, and crumbs fall onto your pop filter again. Akaashi can't help but to swipe them off the foam cover for you, even as you keep talking. The recording booth now smells like metal sound equipment, with an odd hint of artificial melon.

Y/n: Anyways, you are currently tuned in to 12:51 AM radio! We're your hosts, y/n-

Akaashi: And Akaashi. Fukurodani's weird lunch time means that no one else is using the same frequency as we are, so we can actually run this show without any interference. Hooray to that.

You laugh at Akaashi's random spiel, punching his arm. He rubs his bicep, even though you didn't hit him that hard, before realising that his head is off centre from the microphone. He readjusts to his original seating position swiftly.

Y/n: Oh come on Keiji, no one understands enough about radio frequencies to get that! What's important is that we'll be your central student hub for-

Akaashi: I don't think we can call ourselves the student hub, isn't that the wellbeing area upstairs?

Y/n: ...True. Well! The two of us will be your main source of lunch entertainment once a week then! I'm not even too sure what our main topics are gong to be, so I guess stay tuned and be surprised?

Akaashi: I second that sentiment, stay tuned and be surprised everyone, because we'll be surprising ourselves as well. These episodes are available to watch on the school's website, so if you ever feel like going back to an episode again, or there was something you didn't quite catch, you can go back any time for it.

Y/n: Buuuut all you gotta do is show up at school, and you'll get the unedited, unfiltered first edition of each episode! How 'bout that!

Akaashi: Correct. The school is definitely not making sure we endorse good attendance.

Y/n: Don't say that Keiji!

You punch his side this time, and Akaashi snickers at your weak hit, head staying scarily still as he catches your wrist in his grasp while you pull away. You twist your hand from his fist, smacking his hand, before erupting into a fit of giggles. He raises his brow tauntingly, watching you turn back to your microphone from the corner of his eye. You take a deep breath in, and Akaashi doesn't miss the way your fingers grip the edge of the table so hard that they turn pale. You've never been this quiet.

Y/n: Now, without further ado....

He thinks you'll do just fine.

Akaashi: Welcome, to the first edition of 12:51 AM radio.

author's note: do you guys fw the script format? I'll probably be mixing this and full prose between chapters, but I've been really getting into scriptwriting and staging things, but i'm not exactly a filmmaker so scriptwriting is all i can do. take it as dialogue practice i guess. hope you guys enjoyed anyways!

tags: @wyrcan @kawoala @bakery-anon @catsoupki @chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @fiannee @staraxiaa @akaakeis @velvetreds @tokeposts @kongkhoi @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @kuroppiii @bailey-reeds @kameyyy @tokeposts @tobiosluvr @gumims

p.s if you're not in the general taglist, comment/ask for tag if you'd like to be included in the taglist for this series!

[eretzyisrael]

by Olivia Reingold

I bought a two-day ticket to the convention to find out how the movement is prepping American college students for the next wave of anti-Israel protests.

The convention’s programming for college kids is called “Campus Activism Track,” and included sessions on the following:

“Make Your Campus Palestinian,” which taught how to “amplify the voices of Palestinian students and communities” on college campuses. Former student activists, including from Chicago’s DePaul and Loyola universities, shared strategies for how to “oppose anti-Palestinianism.”

A “Know Your Rights” session featured Rifqa Falaneh, a fellow at Palestine Legal who specializes in defending student protesters. Falaneh previously headed DePaul’s chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine, the widely banned campus group that receives financial support from AMP. Also there: Youssef Hasweh, a former University of Chicago student whose degree was initially withheld after he became a prominent participant in his school’s encampment last spring.

“Bringing Activism to Professionalism,” in which students heard speakers describe “how they integrated Palestinian activism into their craft.” Guests included Ashraf Al-Mashharawi, a producer with credits at Al Jazeera as well as a pharmacist, a software engineer, and an English teacher at a nearby public school.

In a session called “In Front of the Lens,” speakers taught college students how to write a press release and handle “tricky questions” from reporters on whether they “support terrorism.” A girl with a keffiyeh covering her head took a stab at answering that question, telling the crowd, “I would say, ‘No, I do not support terrorism,’ and then I would go over the things that Israel does—I would say, ‘I do not support the eviction of innocent Palestinians, I do not support the shooting of Palestinian children.’ ”

She continued: “You don’t want them to put you on the defensive. You have to put them on the defensive.” The student attendees, who were enrolled at Saint Xavier University, DePaul University, Loyola University, and other Midwest colleges, nodded in agreement.A memorial poster for Hind Rajab, who died during Israel’s invasion of Gaza this year. (Olivia Reingold for The Free Press)

Meanwhile, in a plenary session entitled “Criminalizing Palestine Solidarity: The Age of the New McCarthyism,” Falaneh thanked the young activists in the crowd for their role in pushing the pro-Palestine movement forward.

[probablyintensemuses]

I need advice asap!

Im 21 years old and im a student in college. I work a coffee shop job. My boyfriend is 23 years old and works a full time job as a computer engineer for a company and makes 70k a year if not more. I’m considering breaking up with him, but before why, I’ll elaborate.

Me and my boyfriend live together.

His apartment burned down in late 2022, early 2023. Until he found a place he stayed with me and my family. When he got his place he asked me to move in on a few conditions: id cook and clean.

We have a dog. I handle most of everything for the dog except for maybe walking and play.

My boyfriend and I had a huge fight months ago, nearly a year ago, because when I wasn’t there, I was hanging with friends, he broke into my laptop and searched my messages and found old sexual messages between me and this girl and accused me of cheating. Yet he never broke up with me.

He hardly ever speaks to me and makes it seem like I’m an annoyance.

He doesn’t respect my boundaries and always pushes me

Now he wants me to quit my job and get a serving job so I can pay half the rent as well as my other expenses.

He wanted to visit his parent in Florida and drive using my car. Dealership said my wheels weren’t good and I needed them all replaced. He paid for it and told me I had to pay him back even thought I never asked. He drove my car down there and doesn’t pay shit on it! And is trying to do it again, but I said no this time.

He hardly interacts with my family.

He doesn’t help me financially but expects me to help him. The most she’s bought me is a few books and stuff. When I bought him a 1.2k dollar amp for his college graduation and I was broke, that came out my savings and it burnt in the fire.

I constantly bend over backwards for him and get hardly anything in return. I think our relationship has run its course I just have no idea what to do.

I just need advice I feel so stuck and stupid. Can anyone help me? Mg parents keep telling Me to come back home and finish school, save my money. But idk I’m afraid he’ll expose my sexuality to them cuz he said he would.

Two last things, this is more recent, my boyfriend is supposed to be going to Florida in a few days and I can’t afford to come —context it’s his brothers engagement party—I already expressed this. Not I mention it would be out 3rd anniversary while he is down there and he hasn’t said shit about it. Also instead of helping me he just sends me screenshots of flight costs and shit.

Another thing happened the other night. I got kind of drunk and was sitting on the couch. I wanted to talk to him and was begging for him to come talk to me and sit with me. And he got so annoyed and said he was tired and walked away and kept ignoring me even though I was calling for him. But had energy to play on the video game and laugh with friends and play with our dog not even an hour earlier. His response when i called him on that?

“I worked ten hours today. You didnt.”

Am I the asshole, what should I do?

[slaymybreathaway]

Spontaneously Sexy (90s Dave Grohl x reader)

Main Masterlist Rockstar Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Content: cursing, allusions to sex (yet no actual smut)

Olympia, Washington ♡ 1991

"Fuck this," I say, looking down under the hood of my 1970 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser. It was a gift from my Dad for graduating High School. Little did he know that not even two months later I'd be using the piece of shit to run to Seattle to join a rock band.

The rain was pouring down on a freezing December night. My band, Low-Kut, had just played a gig downtown in an underground rock bar as we were trying to raise funds to record our debut album. I didn't get out of Olympia before my car engine started acting up. Luckily, I had pulled into an empty parking lot before it shut down completely.

Ask me how to build an electric guitar from scraps? No problem. Ask me anything about cars? I'm fucked. After about 15 minutes of standing in the rain, staring blanky under the hood of my car, I gave up.

Looking around me for any sign of life, I noticed a payphone across the street at a closed gas station. I walked over to it, counting the change in my pocket as I decided who to call. I put some quaters in and dialled one of the few numbers that I had memorised.

"C'mon, c'mon," I muttered under my breath as the phone rang, praying that theh didn't have their phone disconnected.

After a while I hear the familiar voice of my boyfriend speak through the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey babe, it's me-" I talked as quick as I could, trying to say what I needed to before my change ran out.

"Hi! How was your show hun?" Dave asked, excitedly. I could hear the genuine interest in his voice, which made me smile.

"It was really good, but my car broke down a few blocks from your place and I really don't want to deal with it tonight so can I stay over?" I asked, hopefully.

"Uh, yeah- yeah sure. I just gotta check with Kurt first but I'm sure it will be alright. Where are you? I'll come and get you," he spoke in a worried tone.

"No no, it's alright I'm not too far away. Just tell Kurt and I'll be there soon, ok?" I nodded, cautious about how much time I had left on the phone.

"Ok, see you then," he said and hung up the phone.

Dave and I had met after a Scream gig on their last American tour and hooked up in the back of my car. Then, a few months back, he had come to one of my shows with Kurt and Krist, who were friends with Nancy, our lead singer. After talking for a while, we realised where we knew eachother from and laughed. I gave him my number and he called to ask me out the next day.

I smiled at the memory as I grabbed my guitar case from the back seat of my car and walked down the streets of Olympia. The rain was getting heavier and I could feel it soak through my denim jacket, which I hugged tight to my body in attempt to keep warm. I was really starting to wish that I'd accept Dave's offer to come and pick me up.

The walk to 114 NE Pear Street seemed to take forever in the rain, though I knew it couldn't have been more than 10 minutes. I was buzzed in and I made my way up the almost collapsing staircase to their apartment.

Their apartment was the bare minimum of living, one bedroom (occupied by kurt), one bathroom, a tiny kitchen and a living room with an old couch that Dave slept on. For this reason, I hadn't spent the night before.

I knock on the door, for it to be opened by Kurt who greets me with a tired smile before retreating into his bedroom, leaving the door open. I hear the shower running through the apartment's thin walls.

"There's no lock... on the bathroom door," Kurt gives me a knowing smirk, pushing back his mop of blonde hair as he puts on the headphones that connects to his guitar amp.

I roll my eyes at the action before walking over to the living room and putting down by guitar case on the couch. I look around notice that the room looks... semi-clean? I smile at the thought of Dave rushing around trying to make the atrocity that usually is their apartment look half presentable when I called him from the payphone.

I make my way over to the bathroom and slowly open the door. The rusted hinges hinges creak quite loudly, making me cringe at the unpleasent sound.

"Kurt, please don't take a piss man. I'm in the shower," Dave's voice calls from behind the blue curtain and it takes all my strength not to immediatley start laughing. I close the door behind me as quietly as I can.

I quickly strip out of my wet clothes, leaving them on a pile the ground before tucking my head around the end of the shower curtain, facing the back of my naked boyfriend. Suds cover his shoulders and he has placed his long black hair atop his head while it was full of shampoo. "Hi," I say, announcing my presence.

Dave quickly turns his head over his shoulder to look at me, a smile quickly spread across his face once he realised who it was "Hey dear," he replied, rinsing out the shampoo.

I shake my head with a smile. He has a habit of using 1950s pet names ironically, as well as being an avid user of the phrase "honey, I'm home" while walking back into a filthy, cigarrete stained flat full of grunge musicians.

"Can I join you?" I asked. I watched as Dave stopped moving completely, though I wished that I could've seen the blush on his face in that moment.

"Y-yeah sure," he replied. I smiled, quickly ridding myself of my damp clothes into a pile on the floor before stepping into the bathtub-shower.

Hearing me close the shower curtain behind be, Dave turned around. He let out a low whistle as he looked me up and down. I moved my hands to try and cover myself out of embarassment, though he had seen my body countless times.

"You look nice," Dave smiled, taking a step towards me. I looked up at his face as I felt his calloused fingers rest on my bare hips in a gentle touch. "You should wear this outfit more often," he joked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mhm, so should you," I mumble stretching my neck upwards so our faces were incredibly close, feeling his warm breath on my lips as I waited for him to close the remaining distance between us.

He smiled goofily once more before pressing his lips against mine softly. As I deepened the kiss I could feel his hands run up and down my waist in a featherlight touch. When we made love it was always that, loving, fun and gentle.

As his hands trailed over my ass to the back of my thighs, I gasped a bit in shock and pulled away from the kiss. I giggled as I felt him lift me up, pressing my back to the cold shower tiles.

Dave leaned in to kiss me once more , but just before our lips met, I heard him mutter "Oh shit," as his feet slid out from underneath him and he fell into the tub.

Dave pulled me in close to him, subconciously, so that I wouldn't hit my head against the tiles as I fell into the bathtub on top of him. After a few moments of silence, the both of us burst into fits of laughter

As I tried pull myself up out of the bath, the shower curtain became un-attatched from the wall, falling into the bath on top of the both of us and causing the water from the shower head to spray all over the bathroom.

Though it would've been sensible for one of us to turn off the water, both Dave just continued laughing at the silliness of the situation.

"That-" Dave spoke inbetween chuckles. "That serves us right for trying to be spontaneously sexy,"

"Yes," I agreed "Only formal intercourse from now on,". My false-seriousness only caused him to laugh harder.

He shook his head, smiling as he looked up at me. "I love you," he spoke softly, pulling me in so that our lips met once more

[saltlickmp3]

CONGRATS ON TH EP BRO OML WHATTTTT!?!?! ITS SO GOOD!! I really like your cover of Hares on the Mountain, that's a hard one to get the vibes right on!! Btw what program/equipment did you use to record/mix the tracks?

YAYYYYYYYYY THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU heheeeee :D this was all recorded into garage band, mostly by just playing out into the room & hitting record, none of it was directly into the daw iirc. i did that version of dont a while ago i kinda forgor........ the guitar i was using wasnt a super fancy one at all, neither were any of the amps or the keyboard, some of the vocals werent even miked up i dont think.... i did have a nice bass though cos i borrowed the school one lol. this would probably give sound engineers nightmares im well aware but its like diy ahahahahahha. doing the feedback in collapse & mbv was really fun i love making incredibly loud noises 😁

[jcmarchi]

School of Engineering fourth quarter 2024 awards

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/school-of-engineering-fourth-quarter-2024-awards/

School of Engineering fourth quarter 2024 awards

Faculty and researchers across MIT’s School of Engineering receive many awards in recognition of their scholarship, service, and overall excellence. The School of Engineering periodically recognizes their achievements by highlighting the honors, prizes, and medals won by faculty and research scientists working in our academic departments, labs, and centers.

[valdekboy]

Valdi & Vlad

I finally made some refs for my two OCs. I'll probably remake them in the future, but for now these will have to do. Let's start. (I'll keep adding things here from time to time)

Likes: - Music (especially certain band and certain song, hints are everywhere) - Drawing - Classic Cars - Driving around in his Jalopy - Collecting DB Shotguns (Just because he likes how they look) Other things about Valdi:

His skin is really stretchy and feels like plush fabric.

He's 22 but he likes to be a bit childish and playful (he just prefers to be like that).

Music works on him in lots of different ways. Some songs calm him down, others amp him up (even sending him into a full frenzy mode) and some just amplify current emotions.

He's a bit sensitive and can feel pain, but will try his best to hide it.

Really emotional, small mistake can cause lots of stress and simple hug can make him breakdown in tears

Highly durable, can survive different types of damage, cuts, burns, almost anything… (But he will ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ if he gets ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ or ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ because the pain is too much)

Slow healer, but he has his ways of speeding up the process (comfy clothes/blanket, favourite songs and someone nearby)

Easily scared, catch him off-guard and he'll shoot up like a scared cat

Hates being compared to or called a cat/kitty

Likes: - Music (Same as Valdi) - Classic cars - Building and fixing things - Demolition Derby

Other things about Vlad:

His skin feels like and old worn down hoodie.

Music has less effect on him, but works more on his engine, slowing it down, revving it up or in the worst case causing a "runaway"

Almost completely desensitized to pain (but it's still there)

Doesn't show it, but he's emotional too.

Until the engine is running, so does he, no matter the damage.

THE CAR

[I'll add something here when I draw it. But you might see it in these drawings of mine 1 2 ]

Looks like cartoony version of Datsun 100a / Nissan Cherry '70 / Satsuma AMP. It was first car that Valdi and Vlad put together. Thanks to special device (Vlad's invention) this car can take Valdi to any place he desires (like other people's AUs or even other places like games or comics) Of course nothing is risk free. While visiting other places, everything is adapted to that place ruleset. For example, if characters there have HP or stamina, so does Valdi.

And here are few answers for questions nobody asked:

Is he a TADC OC?

No. He's my first character I created like good 10 years ago. Back then I mostly doodled him in my notebook at school. When TADC came out and I started to draw again, I immediately brought him back. And since then I send him out to all these different TADC AUs because I like them and he likes them too!

Why is he so simple? Couldn't you make him more interesting?

I could, but I like him that way. He's simple, small, soft, huggable and easy to draw. And that lets me focus more on characters other people create.

Why won't you just make more versions of Valdi for different AUs?

As you can see above, I did that once for Carnival AU by sm-baby Then I thought he didn't quite fit in that AU and instead of scrapping and forgetting him I thought of a way to bring him out of there. I simply get too attached to them, I couldn't just make more just to scrap or forget one of them.

Why the hell are you putting him in every drawing you make?

Because that helps me in lots of ways. I just like the idea that he gets to experience all the things I draw, meets all these amazing characters and having a great time. I kinda treat all of this as one big adventure for him. And drawing him being happy makes me feel a bit better. Honestly, It might sound weird but I don't know If I could've made all these drawings if it weren't for that little yellow gremlin. He's like my tiny canvas pet that's always there to support me.

What's the deal with the car? Couldn't you just magically put him in any AU you want?

Well I could, but I overthink things a lot. That's why I gave him a car. He can just hop in, set destination and just keep on driving as the radio starts to play his favourite tune, his eyes will begin to close, the road slowly fading away in front of him, and then *blink*, and he's there, just like that

[oliverreedmasterass]

Synopsis: A young Greta Van Fleet find hope in a local battle of the bands competition to finally catch their big break.

Words: 6.9k

Notes: Sorry for the wait, @infinisonicosm! (and thank you for creating this fic idea)

________________________________

Day One

After a solid eight hours of practicing, Sam hoped that he would be able to fall asleep fast, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, he laid under his plaid comforter, frowning up at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. Since he hadn’t gotten around to talking to Josh since they were all too focused on practicing, Sam was forced to deal with his doubts, and crippling self-esteem on his own, secluded in the darkness of his room. 

Sam shifted around and looked down at Danny, who was snuggled into a sleeping bag beside his bed, on the carpet. He looked so peaceful (and not to mention like he really needed the sleep). Sam had taken note that Danny was drumming exceptionally hard during their practice. He was playing with so much intensity, it almost felt like he was auditioning for the band all over again, like he had to prove something. Sam knew that he needed to be in a similar mindset since there was a lot on the line with the competition, but he was struggling. There was just too much happening in his head. Sam considered waking Danny up to talk through things, but Danny let out a window-rattling snore that convinced Sam to not disturb his slumber. 

So, instead, he returned back to facing the stars and blew out a hefty sigh. He enjoyed playing the bass, that was definitely true. But he had other things that he liked doing too, and it felt like the band was starting to consume all other aspects of his life. They were playing multiple gigs a week so he had to spend all of his free time working on homework so he could graduate. Sam had managed to get solid grades throughout high school and even applied to some pretty impressive colleges back in the fall, but he and his fellow classmates were still waiting to hear back. Sam figured that’s where a good deal of his anxiety lay. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he had applied to Harvard’s engineering program, and found himself daydreaming about that life. Being on a gorgeous campus, learning from the best, and building things that would blow his bandmates’ minds. Plus, he could have a social life if he went away to school. 

Sure, he had friends at school and all, but he and Danny had missed some serious milestones. They didn’t go to their prom since Jake and Josh had signed them up to go on a mini-tour across the state, playing in as many bars as they could access. Sam had dated a few nice girls, but all of their relationships were severed when they told Sam that he was spending a lot of time with the band and not putting enough effort into the relationship. While his friends went to parties, football games, and the movies, he was in the garage, plucking away at his bass. He didn’t like that a lot of the most formative years of his life were spent in that garage. 

But he did enjoy playing with his brothers. It was something that they were able to bond over, and he had to admit that he had never felt closer to anyone than Jake, Josh, and Danny. Their band had its ups and downs, but Sam was proud of how far they had come, even just in the five years since they had formed. Jake’s guitar playing was reaching new levels that entirely baffled Sam; it was like he transformed into a god anytime he flicked his amp on. Josh’s vocals, in a similar vein, turned heads left and right since it was so unique and strong. Danny never played out of time, and even though he was the newest addition to the band, he had all of their songs down as if he had been in the room with them when they wrote them. He was even growing comfortable switching up tempos and taking off into long-winded solos that would make John Bonham nod with approval. And then there was Sam. Sam just played the bass and sometimes played the wrong notes. 

Sam spent the rest of the night with a frown etched across his face, wishing that the fan above him could smash him so he didn’t have to go to the competition the next day. The early morning sunlight started to crawl through the breaks in his curtains, and soon enough Danny was sitting upright with a loud yawn, stretching his arms towards the sky. 

“Get some good rest in?” he asked Sam once his yawn was fully released. Sam remained on his back, glaring daggers at the ceiling fan, and let out a grunt. He called out in protest as Danny jumped to his feet and yanked Sam’s covers off of him. “It’s a big day!” Danny told him, as if Sam didn’t already know. “Perk up, this could be the first day of the rest of our lives!” 

That made Sam all the more motivated to stay in bed. Danny frowned as Sam flopped over on his back so he was facing away from him, and curled up into the fetal position, clutching one of his pillows into his chest. 

“Are you nervous?” Danny tried to guess. Sam didn’t even know what words to assign to whatever the hell he was feeling, so he shrugged. “Gassy?” Danny tried again. That got a snort out of Sam. 

“What’s going on?” Josh popped his head into the room, and then joined Danny’s side. “Why’s Sam all folded up like a pretzel?” 

“He won’t tell me,” Danny replied, sounding concerned. 

“I’m sure it’s just some pre-show jitters,” Josh rationalized. Then, he turned his attention to Sam and thrust his hands at him, latching onto his shoulders. Sam squeaked out in shock as Josh shook his body around, hollering at the top of his lungs. 

“COME ON SAMMY, SNAP OUT OF IT! GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME AND GET OUT OF BED! WE’VE GOT A BIG DAY AHEAD OF US!” 

“Let go of me!” Sam tried to swat his older brother away, to no avail. Josh came down close to Sam’s ear and tucked his long hair out of the way so he could whisper, 

“If you don’t get up, Jake will be here any second with a bucket of ice cold water.” 

Jake had done that to Sam enough times that he knew Josh was being serious. He smacked Josh’s hands off of his shoulders, and hoisted himself up, to the applause of Danny and Josh. 

“Happy?” he asked between them. 

“Thrilled,” Josh gave a cheeky grin back. 

With Danny and Josh close to his side as if they were his bodyguards, they made their way into the kitchen where Josh had been working on brewing some Folgers coffee. Sam thought about asking Danny to go back to his room and grab something for him so he could be left alone with Josh to talk, but Jake ruined that plan. 

“What do you think?” he asked as he came into the kitchen, motioning down at his clothes. Sam, Danny, and Josh took in his women’s flare pants, paisley button up shirt, and floppy hat. 

“Absolutely not,” Josh cut in. “You look like a member of the Mamas and Papas.” 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Jake retorted, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“You think it’s a good thing?” Josh shot back, looking alarmed. 

“No,” Jake sighed, and then motioned back towards their shared room. “Help me?” 

“Yeah,” Josh nodded. “You need it.” 

Sam watched his brothers leave the kitchen, and held his head in his hands. Danny had been at the fridge, helping himself to some yogurt, but joined Sam’s side, sliding onto the barstool next to him. Sam could feel Danny’s eyes on him, but he refused to turn his head in his direction. 

“Do you not want to play today or something?” Danny asked Sam. That got him to immediately tense up. “I’m surprised you’re not more excited for this.” 

Sam took long enough to answer Danny’s question, that he was worried Danny could tell he had pinpointed his emotions exactly. “It’s not that,” Sam struggled to speak. He couldn’t think of what to say next, so he left it at that. 

“You know you can tell me if something is up,” Danny’s voice softened. “You seem super on edge right now and it’s kinda freaking me out.” 

“There’s just a lot on the line right now, that’s all,” Sam thought aloud. 

Danny put a supportive hand on his back and rubbed it around a bit. “We’re sounding better than we ever have before, Sam. The key is just to go out there and have fun. As long as we do that, I think we’re gonna be pleasantly surprised.” 

Sam appreciated Danny’s feedback, but was disappointed that Danny wasn’t able to pick up on his anxiety surrounding the band and his own future. Danny seemed to believe that this competition was a clear shot straight to his dreams, as opposed to Sam, who saw it as an inconvenient fork in the road. He knew it wasn’t worth bringing up, just in case it got Danny upset, so he pursed his lips together and gave Danny a quick nod to show that he agreed. 

At that moment, Josh popped his head back into the kitchen with a large grin. 

“Get your butts back to my room,” he told them both. “We need to get our outfits sorted out.” 

An hour and a half later, Sam found himself sitting in the front seat of Danny’s car, on the way to the fairgrounds. He was wearing some red satin pants that he had bought on a whim at a thrift store the previous year and then proceeded to throw into the back of his closet. When Josh discovered them, they were immediately forced into Sam’s hands. On top he wore a busy patterned blazer with nothing underneath except a collection of gold necklaces, taking Jake’s advice that having their nipples out was the coolest thing rockstars could do. For what it was worth, he did feel closer to a rockstar in his outfit than he had felt in a while. 

The rest of the car looked good too. Danny had on a pair of black skinny jeans and a black vest with stunning swirls of gold dancing across the fabric. His hair was pulled part way into a bun, letting a small bit of his curls lay around his shoulders. In the backseat, Josh proudly wore a top that closely resembled a silk robe, decorated in a red, purple, and blue floral pattern. The number of chains and medallions around his neck was so substantial, he made a clinking noise with every move. Sitting next to him, Jake was dressed in a dark jacket with golden tassels falling over his shoulders, his bare chest on full display. He only had one pair of clean pants in his closet, so he was stuck wearing a pair of faded skinny jeans and his favorite Chelsea boots. 

Danny was blasting what he jokingly called their “hype music” which was just Crazy Frog on repeat. Jake had threatened to chuck Danny’s phone out the window numerous times, but never did anything. They reached the old county road that would lead them to the fields on the outskirts of town, and Danny called over the music, “Get ready, it’s about to get bumpy!” 

Sam had trouble continuing on with his brooding and concerned thoughts, he was bouncing around so much in the passenger seat. If Ian really was going to be in the trunk with their friends on the drive out, he was as good as dead. As they lurched around in their seats, their heads nearly hitting the roof of the car with every pothole hit, Sam saw the main stage coming up closer in sight. God, that was a massive stage. It looked so big, Sam thought he would probably feel like he was on top of the world standing up there. He shook his head and forced himself to frown again. 

Danny pulled into the special parking lot they had been instructed to use, and killed the engine, luckily making Crazy Frog stop. Jake heaved out a sigh of relief. Next to him, Josh was still bouncing around, even though the car had stopped. Sam watched him in confusion, until he realized that he was simply excited. 

“I can feel it, you guys,” Josh shared with the car. 

Danny held a hand up to get him to stop. “Hey, don’t jinx it,” he said, though there was a twinkle in his eye. 

“Remember,” Jake reminded the car. “We take this one step at a time. Focus on the round that we’re in. Don’t look ahead to the end.” 

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed at Jake’s advice. Maybe he did have a point. 

The band exited from the car and got to work dragging their countless instruments and cords out from the trunk of Danny’s SUV. Sam grabbed his bass and Danny’s snare and started to carry them in the direction of the stage, following behind Jake, who was holding his guitar cases with care. Sam took note of how Jake was walking with his head held high, and tried to mirror his body language. He figured that, maybe just maybe, if he acted like he was feeling good, he would actually start to feel that way. He was hoping that would get his stomach to stop twisting in tangling knots. 

They found the dropoff area for their stuff and, right beside it, there was the order of bands going on stage. 

“We’re going first,” Jake announced to the band, pointing out their name on the list. Sam’s stomach flip flopped and he clutched at it when no one was looking at him. 

“That’s good,” Josh tried to assure them all. “We get to set the tone for this whole thing.” 

“Who are we up against?” Danny asked. Jake squinted his eyes at the list. 

“Some band called Bloodhound Venom?” 

Danny thought it over. “They’re not the ones we need to be worried about.”  

“I’m worried about them though,” Josh begged to differ. “That band name is fucking terrifying.” 

“It’s a group of fifteen year olds,” Danny patted Josh on the back. “Trust me, you’ll be okay.” 

“So which band is the one we need to keep our eyes on?” Jake looked at Danny with intrigue. Danny looked back at the list and pursed his lips as he scanned over the different names. 

“That one,” he finally spoke, jamming his pointer finger into a name that was set to play later that afternoon. Everyone looked closer at the paper taped on the side of the stage. 

“Fellowship,” Jake read aloud. “Oh, those guys must be good.” 

“They’re alright,” Danny shrugged, trying to hide the threat they posed. That was enough information for Jake, since he turned on his heel and headed back to their gear.  

He took a brief pause and called over his shoulder, “Josh, you better start warming up.” 

Sam didn’t appreciate how fast the day was speeding forward. Though, granted, it didn’t give him a lot of time to dwell. In the two hours they had to wait until they went out on stage, he passed the time looking at the cars on display with Danny, greeting his friends and family, and throwing up in one of the porta potties. Sam usually wasn’t the one to let anxiety get the better of him physically, but after seeing all of his loved ones stationed in front of the stage, carrying signs and banners in support of Greta Van Fleet, the weight of their performance crushed him like an anvil. 

Once the contents of his stomach were fully cleared, he found himself back with his band, Josh handing him his dad’s bass. Sam nearly dropped it, he was shaking so much, but he was glad that no one else seemed to notice. Danny had both of his drumsticks clutched in his fists, and bounced from foot to foot in anticipation. Jake was stretching his hands out and cracking each of his fingers louder than seemed humanly possible. Sam noticed that Josh’s eyes were on him. Before he could say anything, Josh grabbed Sam softly by the shoulder and dragged him out of earshot of Danny and Jake. 

“You look really pale,” he observed. Sam studied his feet and nodded. “Are you good?” 

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “I’m a wreck.” 

“Well that’s sure as hell not what I want to hear from you right before we’re supposed to go out there. Can you tell me what’s up?” 

Sam let out a disgruntled breath. He really didn’t know how to explain his situation. 

“I’m just nervous, is all.” 

“You’re usually pretty level-headed when it comes to playing in front of people though.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sam raked a hand through his hair. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about what’s on the line with this competition, and how it might be our big moment.” 

Josh’s eyes were trying to find Sam’s and, when they connected, Sam was relieved to see that Josh was nodding his head, looking like he finally understood what the problem was. Sam was even more relieved when Josh patted his back. 

“I’m nervous too, Sammy,” he assured him. “We both have our own things that we want to do, but this band is something we can all share and that’s pretty special, right?” Sam could only shrug in response. He did get what Josh was hinting at. “We can talk about this more later,” Josh decided when the host of the competition went onto stage to announce their band. “But I want to know that you’re gonna be okay.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Sam forced a smile at him. 

“Good,” Josh smiled back. “We’re gonna blow shit up, it’ll be electric.” 

“I sure hope so,” Sam managed a laugh. 

To really no one’s surprise, they went out there on that stage and, in their scheduled five minutes, played the most energetic and impressive version of Fast Train Blues to date. Sam wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or excitement, but Danny upped the tempo slightly, which Jake took as a challenge to insert Eddie Van Halen-esque solos in their breaks. After the first chorus, Sam finally felt some form of ease since he had trained his eyes to never fall on their cheering section, instead scanning just above their heads. He plodded around the stage in his bare feet, which he and Josh had started trying out recently, and let the low hum of his bass make the floor tremble. He felt a power swelling in him that, as the song kept going, started to feel addictive. Josh managed to propel the lyrics out of his small frame so his voice hollered over the cacophonous music. When they finished, Sam’s ears rang over the applause from the crowd, but he knew that they had accomplished something terrific. 

That was entirely verified for the band when the host greeted them at the side of the stage. 

“I’d heard of you kids before, but god damn,” the older man chuckled out. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard live music like that. I saw people running into the fairgrounds from the parking lot to get a look at you guys.” 

“Thanks, sir,” Jake told the man with genuine gratitude, still trying to catch his breath. 

Danny was right to say that they had nothing to worry about with Bloodhound Venom. As intimidating as their band name was, they opted to attempt a cover of War Pigs that quickly fell apart during the solo. Sam and Danny remained on the wings of the stage to watch their performance while Jake and Josh wandered around to try and find some craft beer to chug, and Sam winced as he watched the bassist. He didn’t want to compare himself to someone to boost his own morale, but the poor kid could hardly play any of the notes. Sam noticed that the bass line suddenly vanished from the speakers, and shook his head in sadness when he saw that the kid had given up and was faking his playing. Sam had never put on a performance like that before; even if he got lost, he could usually work out some notes to play that at least fit with the sound. 

When the kids finished their song, they tried to hurry off the stage with their heads hung low. Sam reached out and tapped on the lead guitarist’s shoulder to get him to turn around. Out of all of them, Sam could tell that he was the one who had put the group together, and was trying his hardest to keep them from falling apart. 

“That’s a tough song to do,” Sam told the kid when he looked back at him. “You’re gonna get it down, you’re super close.” 

“Thanks dude,” the kid told him, though Sam could tell the kid was thinking he was full of shit. He let the band leave them then, and Danny nudged Sam in the side. 

“That was nice of you to say.” 

“It’s true,” Sam commented. “Give them a few years and they’ll pull it off. Jake, Josh, and I sounded like them when we first attempted to play Communication Breakdown, but we eventually worked it out.”

“I do remember you guys trying to play that one at Fischer Hall,” Danny’s face scrunched at the memory. Sam had to laugh at his brutal honesty: for what it was worth, they had sounded like absolute garbage. It didn’t help that the hall’s cheap ass microphone kept shocking Josh every time he put his mouth up to it. 

Jake and Josh both came back to their side clutching large steins of beer in both hands. 

“They were on the house!” Jake called in glee. “They didn’t even check our IDs!” 

Josh finished one of his steins and slammed the glass onto the stage with a whoop. At that moment, Tom and Leah came around to the backstage area, grinning wide. Sam and Danny left Josh and Jake behind with their own vices to greet their friends. 

“How is Ian doing?” Danny asked before they could shower them in praise. 

“He survived the trunk,” Leah laughed back. 

“We had enough space for him in the second car, but he insisted on sitting back there,” Tom added. “He said the bumpy part was actually a lot of fun, though that might just be the concussion talking.” 

“God,” Sam chuckled, “I hope not.” 

“I gotta say,” Leah looked between Danny and Sam, “you both are incredible at what you do.” Sam could feel his cheeks flush the brightest red at Leah’s compliment. “Seriously,” she continued when she was met with embarrassed silence, “we’re always talking about how much time you guys put into this band and, geez, I think it really is paying off.” 

“You looked like rockstars up there,” Tom agreed with Leah. “It was almost like I didn’t recognize you.”

“Quit stroking my ego or I’m gonna have a bigger head than Pete Townshend,” Danny warned Leah and Tom. Sam could tell that they had no clue who Danny had just referenced, but they laughed anyway. 

“I think you guys are practically guaranteed to go to the second round,” Leah said. Sam gave her a testing glance, and she laughed, knocking her fist against her forehead. “Knock on wood,” she said directly to Sam. “I’m just glad we’ll get to see you guys play again. I’ve literally never had this much fun at a concert before and I’ve seen Pink before. Do you know how big of a compliment that is?” 

“Not really,” Danny and Sam both replied. 

Josh joined their side and, after greeting Leah and Tom, motioned back to the stage. 

“Jake wants us to get some more practice in with our Round 2 song,” he explained apologetically. “It’s kind of a new number that we’re trying out.” 

“We won’t keep you then,” Leah said. 

“We’ll see you soon,” Danny promised her and Tom. “And, genuinely, thank you so much for coming out today. It really means a lot.” 

“Hey, we wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Tom assured him. They both gave Danny and Sam hugs, and then they headed back into the growing crowd. While another young band was attempting to play through Back in Black on stage, Danny tried to talk to Sam over the music. 

“Josh mentioned you were a bit off before we went out there. Are you okay?” 

Sam glared at Josh, who was a few paces ahead of them, oblivious to their conversation, and shook his head. 

“I was just going through some pre-show nerves, but I’m doing better now.” 

For what it was worth, Sam was feeling reasonably better than he had just a half an hour before, when he was emptying out the contents of his stomach into the smelly plastic toilet bowl. Josh’s words had really struck a chord with him and, when he saw his brothers and best friend standing alongside him out on that stage, he realized that it did feel like home to him. He did enjoy creating art with them, and challenging himself to compose music that he wanted to hear. It was a privilege that not everyone got to experience, so he tried to keep it close to his heart that this band was something he was lucky to have. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Danny looked sincere. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize, I would have tried to do something to perk you up.” 

“Like play Crazy Frog?”

“How did you know?” Danny pretended to act surprised. 

Josh led them to a tent that was reserved for the musicians and they found Jake sitting at a folding table, working on tuning his acoustic guitar. When they approached his side, his head snapped up, and Sam was concerned to see that he had familiar frown lines etched into his face. It looked like Sam wasn’t the only one dealing with nerves for the day. 

“Now what’s your problem?” Josh quickly broke the ice, pointing at Jake. Jake scowled at his twin and directed his attention back on tuning his G string. “Jacob, answer me,” Josh continued to prod. 

“I’m just worried how I’m gonna sound singing, okay?” Jake finally snapped. “Maybe it was stupid to pitch that we play an acoustic song. I might screw up and then everything will be ruined for us.” 

“I can sing your part, if you want,” Josh suggested quietly. Jake’s head shook back and forth so hard, he looked on the brink of giving himself whiplash. 

“I need to know what pressure like this feels like,” Jake countered. “It’s, just, it’s fine, it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

“We’re obviously worried about it though,” Danny chipped in. Sam had to nod. When Jake’s confidence was wavering, the rest of the band wasn’t too far behind. 

“Look, you can still sing, just stick to the backing vocals, okay?” Josh tried to compromise. “You don’t have to take the second verse and bridge.” 

Jake seemed to be contemplating it, but then clenched his jaw and shook his head again. 

“I need to suck it up.” 

“What you need to do is tell yourself everything is gonna be okay,” Danny corrected him. “Just do Josh’s vocal warm ups and you should be fine.” 

“You sounded really good singing during rehearsal yesterday,” Sam wanted to let his older brother know. He had heard Jake sing countless times through all of their garage sessions, but the day before Sam had really started to appreciate how strong and full Jake’s voice was sounding. If anything, he was on the brink of giving Josh a run for his money, which was some seriously high praise. 

For whatever reason, Sam’s words seemed to be what Jake needed. He finished tuning his guitar and then stood and pointed towards a secluded area behind some moving trucks. 

“Wanna set up shop back there?” he asked. “They’re announcing who’s going on to the next round in a couple of hours so we should have enough time to get some more practice in.” 

They set up a circle of folding chairs next to the back of an eighteen wheeler, away from the amassing crowds. Sam had his bass with him and a portable amp that did the trick. Danny and Jake were both equipped with their acoustic guitars, and Josh was holding his maracas like he had the most important role in the band. Sam looked around at his bandmates in a new light than he had earlier in the day. He had separated himself from them in his mind, assuming that they were all on the right path while he was straying away from the life he was supposed to lead. He was starting to believe that less and less. While they practiced, Sam caught himself making eye contact with everyone and grinning. They were all putting their heads together to create something that sounded incredible. It was like they had a kind of magic surging between them. 

In spite of this, Jake was having trouble with his singing parts. He was able to get through his harmonies with Josh and Danny, but when it came to that second verse, Sam had never seen him act more like a perfectionist. On their fifth runthrough of the song, Sam felt like they had hit their groove and were in a great place. But no. Jake immediately stopped playing and threw his hands up to stop everyone after he sang half of the first line of his verse. 

“I was out of tune,” he admitted once everyone muted their instruments. 

“You literally weren’t,” Josh told him. Sam and Danny nodded in agreement. Jake had sounded perfectly fine. Maybe a little bit soft so it was hard to hear him over the guitars, but he still sounded good. Jake started playing from the beginning of the song again without another word. Silently, they followed his lead. 

After their thirteenth runthrough, Josh started to grow frustrated. 

“I’m gonna wipe my voice out before we can even get out there,” he rattled his maracas at Jake to try and prove a point. “I’m starting to feel hoarse!” 

Danny shrugged like he could keep going, but Sam knew that it was time to take a break before they started really butting heads with each other. He gently set his dad’s bass in the grass and made his way to the backstage area where he had seen a table set up with a portable kettle and some tea bags. He didn’t know a whole lot about how to keep vocal cords in shape, but Josh was an avid tea-drinker when it came time for them to perform, so it only made sense in Sam’s mind. He fixed three cups of earl gray tea with lemon and honey and carefully brought them back to the group. When he returned, Josh was trying to teach Jake one of his warm ups. 

“You just do a lip roll and go up as high as you can and then back down, oscillating back and forth,” he instructed. Jake looked back at him like he wasn’t sure if Josh was pulling his leg or not. Indifferent to it, Danny was giving it a try and seemed to be enjoying himself. Josh motioned for Jake to give it a go, but Jake looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do. When he caught sight of Sam, his frowning face opened up into a relieved smile. 

“Thanks, Sammy,” he said to his younger brother, accepting one of the paper cups from him and chugging it down. Sam winced since it was still pretty hot, but Jake didn’t seem to notice or care. Josh and Danny gladly took their own cups as well, but opted to nurse them. 

“Jake,” he said as he took a seat back in his folding chair. Jake looked up. “Don’t overthink things.”

“Not exactly easy to do, Sammy,” Jake replied. 

“You enjoy singing,” Sam reminded him. Jake had never outwardly admitted it, but Sam heard him singing Black Keys songs in the shower enough that he knew it was true. “Own it or we’re never giving you this opportunity again.” 

Jake looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. “Since when do you make decisions for the band?” 

“I’m as much a part of this band as everyone else here,” Sam stated. It felt good to say. “I want to see us make it to the finals, and if that means raising the stakes for you to get over yourself and get out there and perform, then so be it.” 

“Those nerves really are gone, aren’t they, Sammy?” Josh joked into Sam’s ear. He swatted his brother away. Across from him, Jake seemed to be running Sam’s words through his mind. 

“How will you know if I ‘own it’?” 

“If we make it to the next round.” 

“Fair enough,” Jake had to agree. 

From the stage, the host was stationed back in front of the microphone, congratulating the bands for participating in the first round. The members of Greta Van Fleet realized that the winners of the first round were about to be announced, and rushed to the side of the stage where the other groups were huddled. 

“Everyone give a large round of applause for our eight bands who have made it to the second round!” the host beamed out at the packed crowd that was squeezed in front of the stage. Sam peeked out and saw his parents and friends on the right side of the stage, clasping their hands together in eager anticipation. “Our eight bands are Fellowship, Boogie Down, Fred Fender, Astound the Fury, Invalid Password, Greta Van Fleet, The Bellhoppers, and DaveTM!” 

Sam felt a rush of relief wash over him, which was so drastically different from how he was feeling on the car ride over earlier. Sam had been wondering if he could do anything to get them eliminated in the first round, sabotaging their dreams of a big break. It had seemed like a good solution to his problem at that time, but now Sam was glad he was wrapping his grinning bandmates in tight hugs, feeling one step closer to the big time. 

The second round’s schedule was posted shortly afterwards, and Greta Van Fleet was set to face off against the group of college kids who went by Fred Fender. They mostly played indie pop music but, as Danny softly explained to them, the drummer had recently been replaced, and the new guy couldn’t keep time to save his life. It felt like the odds might be in their favor yet again. 

Instead of going back and practicing more, Sam was glad that Jake chose to remain at the side of the stage, watching the other groups play. They were going third, so they were able to see Astound the Fury and The Bellhoppers compete. Sam enjoyed Astound the Fury’s rendition of a Moody Blues song that he frequently listened to on his parents’ vinyl, but The Bellhoppers seemed like they might squeak into the next round since their lead singer had an intoxicating charisma about her that the crowd seemed to eat up. Their rendition of Blondie’s Call Me had Sam bouncing in place. Sure, it wasn’t the kind of clean cut live music most people were used to catching in their city’s largest stadiums and arenas, but there was something invigorating about how raw everyone sounded. This was music at its core. 

It was slightly nerve-wracking to go out there on that stage, armed with acoustic guitars, after such an electrifying performance, but there was no turning back. Sam watched as the stagehands set up four wooden stools at center stage, three in front of microphones. Sam knew that his stool was the one on the far right, with no microphone to block his view. Thank god his brothers didn’t feel it was necessary to pressure him into singing. 

This time around, when he walked out on stage, he did take note of how many people were there to hear them. And, by some miracle, the sheer number of intrigued faces made him all the more excited to plug his bass in and play away. A brief glimpse at Jake caused him to frown though. Jake looked about as pale as Sam had felt earlier, before the first round. He seemed to be having trouble steadying his hand so he could plug his guitar in. Sam, Josh, and Danny must have all noticed at the same time, because they huddled around him, their backs to the stage. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Danny was the first to talk. “I’ll sing backup on your verse and bridge so you have something to fall against. Just kick me if you want me to stop.” 

“Remember to sing from your chest, not your throat,” Josh reminded him. Jake gulped and nodded. Sam gave his shoulder a squeeze and looked into his panicked eyes, trying to communicate to him, I got through this, and so will you. The host popped back out to announce that they were performing a cover of Ragged Wood, which was met by a loud applause. Jake looked like he wanted to remain hidden from the crowd, but took one more fragile breath and then turned to grab his seat on the stool. 

Sam looked around to make sure everyone was ready, and then counted them in. Jake and Danny’s acoustic guitars playing earned cheers from the crowd. Josh was getting into his maraca shaking, and started to project out the vocals in a way that Robin Pecknold would approve of. Jake and Danny joined in on the harmonies during the chorus, and Sam grinned when he spotted Jake singing with a wide smile, his eyes closed so he was fully engulfed in the music. His voice floated through the crowd, warm like whiskey on a winter’s day. Sam spotted his parents watching Jake get through his verse with awe. It was an added bonus that their fan section erupted into applause once Josh took back over for the chorus. The bridge was just as strong and, after going into a condensed guitar break, they closed out the song. The applause was thunderous, so much so that Sam wondered if they were really reacting to them. It almost felt surreal. 

They took their bow, Sam made sure to wave to their group, and then latched his arm around Danny’s back as they hopped off the stage. Jake and Josh were right behind them, and both had their goofy grins wide. 

“So, I’m still allowed to sing, right?” Jake gave a toothy smile at Sam. 

“We gotta find out if we made it to the next round first,” Sam crossed his arms with a smirk. Jake gave a booming laugh and then focused his attention back to the stage where Fred Fender was setting up. 

They all tried to be as respectful as possible, but it was hard to keep a straight face when hearing their take on Where Is My Mind. It didn’t help that the drummer was somehow managing to use the bass drum on all the off beats. That obviously threw the rest of the band off, so it wound up sounding like a piece of experimental music that the Beatles would produce in their LSD era. Their hopes were high that they would be able to continue the competition into the next day. 

Since they had played their two planned songs, they spent the rest of the second round with their heads together, trying to create setlists for the next day. A lot of name calling and shoving went down but, in the end, they came out with a list that seemed to showcase all of their talents, giving each member some time in the limelight. Sam still felt his stomach slightly clench at the thought of performing a solo in front of a crowd of that size, but he tried to push it out of his mind. He was focusing on the present, all his other problems weren’t real until he was facing them head on. 

To their joy, it was announced following the car show that Greta Van Fleet was indeed going to the next round, alongside their three final competitors: The Bellhoppers, Invalid Password, and Fellowship. Their friends and family showered them in love and praise, taking them all out to Zehnder’s for a large chicken dinner to celebrate their success, and hopefully what was to come. 

Sam filled himself until he felt like he was going to burst, and had to take a pause from his jovial laughter to look around at everyone he was sharing his meal with. There was a lightness in the air like everyone could sense something really good was just on the horizon. And this time around, Sam wasn’t afraid of it.

Next Part >>>

[bleedingpeanutbutter]

Love letter to the bass guitar.

In my mind I have a distinct recollection of falling in love with the bass guitar. When I was a kid my parents would take me to the mall every few weeks and I would spend my time in this music store marveling at all the electric guitars. This was the early 90's, hair metal was still a thing so there was all kinds of over the top guitar designs. Not knowing anything about guitars I would walk up to the hanging guitars that I had to look up and see, put my cheek right on the body of the instrument, pluck the strings and feel the vibrations. I remember loving how the vibrations of the "four" string guitars felt. I could not have been more than eleven or twelve at the time. It became my habit when I got to the mall for a while, to go in and play the four string electric guitars that were hanging on the wall with my faced pressed up against them.

I remember asking my parents if I could start with a "four" string guitar and then once I learned that I would graduate to a six string one. I'm not 100% sure they understood what I was asking, "I would even get an amp later" I would say. Just get me a guitar I could call my own. Sadly it was just not in the budget. When I was very little I had taken some piano lessons but it just never stuck with me. At some point I stopped asking and never really thought about it for a few years. But by fourteen I was glued to my Walkman and absorbing any music I could get my hands on. It would be my bike, my Walkman and the Summer sun for days on end while I explored the city to the soundtrack of my choosing. Sometimes with my friends, sometimes solo. Being glued to music would never change the rest of my life.

Late that next year, when I was fifteen the youth pastor (Steve) of the church I grew up in made me an offer. He knew a guy that owned a music store and would give me free bass lessons in the hopes that I would get hooked and become a customer later on and he needed a bass player in the church praise band so I was in a band before I had really even picked up a bass. Steve just said he knew I loved music so much and maybe I should try playing it. I tentatively said ok. I remember almost ditching my first lesson because it all seemed so overwhelming. Sean, the owner of the local music shop patiently taught me the bass. I would go to the practice rooms in the smelly old basement and play bass for a few hours after school everyday. Sean would come down in between helping customers and give me pointers. He was very generous and let me play on any bass I wanted in the store.

I remember my first "gig" playing for the youth group at church. No doubt that I messed up quite a lot but what a rush. It was addictive to be sure. After that I starting learning my favorite songs and growing as a new musician. Eventually I bought my first bass, and old Yamaha with this crazy paint job. It was $275 dollars and I paid it off in three chunks with the money I made working as a dishwasher. To this day I still gig with that bass as my spare, even though it was been completely rebuilt multiple times and I have owned many other basses over the years.

Then I started my first band with some of my friends and played in that band from the age sixteen to twenty two. I got offers to play in other bands and took some of them. In late high school and early college I took loads of music theory classes and ending up studying with Berklee College of music. This took me on an amazing journey of learning audio engineering/production and working at Sweetwater sound, as well as writing music for videos and other artists.

I have had the good fortune of meeting so many wonderful artists and musicians, been able to be a part of creating fulfilling art, all through being a bass player. Some days I reflect on all the different bands I have had the honor of playing in over the years and what a blast it all is. How crazy that what started as one guy needing a bass player in the praise band changed the entire course of my whole life. Changed the friendships I would have had, my education and career. Playing bass has and I'm sure will continue to lead me down all kinds of interesting roads. Maybe I would have found the Bass on my own one day? Who knows.

When I am playing live, I still love feeling that same vibration that I felt in the tiny little music store as a kid. I love being the bridge between the melody and rhythm section and feeling the groove and power of it all. Playing music is a strange thing in its own right as there is always something new to master. Some technique just out of reach that you work for and eventually conquer. A more fulling journey I can not think of. Thanks to everyone who I have met on this path!