playing catchup going upfield

Has it been that long since I've indulged my narcissim? What's going on? Oh man...lots. More adventures in adult dating (see later entry), too much sloth, just enough work to get by, curing an obsession or two that got in the way of work...

Reading tvdetective's rave about the Wrens makes me realize that I want to be in a band again (and not just because I want hipsterette bloggers to write virtual odes to freaking my shit). I miss making music. I do creative stuff now, but for me it's a more tortuous process to do academic writing than it is to strap on the bass and groove away. And the photography stuff is very amateur and I'm not certain I want it to be more than that, despite that I know I have a decent enough sense of composition and can find a good shit.

But with music it's a time thing. I don't have the kind of time I'd like to devote to it. I also don't know that I'd find a situation like I had back where I came from. I've only played in three serious bands and another thing as a semi-acoustic duo. In each case I played with very good to excellent songwriters. I'm sure there are good writers here, but where? And would they want a me who can only give a bit of time each week, who doesn't care anymore about "making it"? I've done the big record deal, done the indie thing, had musical if not financial success.

And soccer, what about soccer? My knees tell me that my days may be numbered, even inthe rec league thing I'm in now. The level of competition is high, but that's keeping my game sharp. I'm also learning a new position, sweeper. After years of outside mid and outside defense, now it's to the middle, cleaning up when everyone else is busy. Yelling for when to move up for offsides traps, encouraging and cajoling. But it's frustrating because thanks to the knee surgery and layoff, I've lost some touch on the ball and a step or two of speed. I've been responsible for goals against as guys have blown by me when I over-commit to the tackle. But I had a couple of good games as well. Solid, where the middle of the defensive line held it together. But I feel I'm on borrowed time now. Maybe the pose-tech running will as advertised help prolong the life of my legs. But got-damn if it ain't fun to get out there every week and run around for 90 minutes. Pain and frustration notwithstanding.