Two thoughts on the economy...

... there will be more to follow):

1) This is no time to relax.

2) Tell your friends how much they mean to you.

Do you ever find yourself out in public, and you notice someone who looks semi-famous? Not actually semi-famous themselves, but who looks like someone else who's semi-famous? Someone else just notorious enough to be recognized by a good, say, third of the street-walking (no, not just that kind) public? I'll bet you do. And do you also, sometimes, when you see such a person, secretly hope they'll do something public and doltish, providing you with an opportunity to turn and reprimand them in the style of, hmm, oh, "Hey, nice job knocking that old lady over, Guy from Mars Volta?"

You don't? Oh, hmm.

Some musical things, both past and present

I'm currently writing and recording songs with my friend Matt, and we're looking forward to unfurling our creations upon la terra musica before long. We're both ex- of DC-area band The Known Unknowns, for whom I played guitar and sang, and Matt drummed, until May of this year. Our working band name is Le Dog Le Havoc. Don't ask.

We also don't have a website (yet?) Hey, Matt! Do we at least have a myspace page...? We don't? Okay. Um, cool.

Needless, we're totally on top of this shizzle. In the absence of just about any other outlet, watch this space for more, hopefully soon! Or, you know, don't, because our brand of pop schizophrenia is going to be all over the blogosphere, radiosphere, MTVosphere, and probably even the lone boombox in a remote Afghani village. Barring that, you could watch this space.

As for the rest of my musical profile, I also play bass and piano, sang a cappella in college (with these guys--grab their new CD!), and even sang/guitared in a high school rock band (we weren't cool enough to have our own website. We were also in Botswana in the late 90s, where I doubt one would have helped).

Pantroducing...

Hi, there!

This blog is intended as a repository for the random and not-so; as a sweet (and occasionally sour) spot somewhere in the middle of that fuzzy spectrum bookended by esoteric rambling and prosaic sleepitude.

So, wherefore "africapants?"

Well, there are actual, real pants to collateralize that one. My friend Laila made them for me, out of curtain fabric. The name preceded the pants, however, and I can't for the life of me remember what spit of genius birthed that one. I was born and lived in Africa, and I enjoy wearing pants much of the time. We'll leave it at that. Also, curtain fabric doesn't breathe too well.