So I just stumbled back home from the last of the tionol weekend. Starting Thursday night there were some great concerts – Michael Cooney, John Skelton (Kentucky’s snarkiest Brit), Cathleen Conneely, Oisín MacDiarmada, and more – followed by a daylong jam down at McGurk’s. Having not played a regular session in about four years, I floated through the rooms for a while, just listening. Eventually I found the coward’s perfect session: large, simplistic, jovial, and in a tight enough circle that you could hide out at the back until you get your fingers used to everything again. Confidence enough to seek out a challenging group never comes until the session you’re in decides it likes you, of course, so I ended up there for the rest of the afternoon. It’s always a little embarrassing when someone in a nationalist* session asks you to just pick any tune and the first five that leap to mind are Quebecois, Welsh, Scots, Breton, and border, respectively. Luckily, this circle was pretty easygoing, and I made up for it by carrying a couple of tunes no one could remember how to start. All in all, it was a good time, and now I have people to play with on Wednesdays.

Also, I now have the beginnings of a dent again. Right on.

Anyway, since I failed all two of you who check this site for updates on Wednesday, here’s a bit of a late doodle. I sketched it out on my first problem set of the semester, and got it back with an edit. I think it was pretty appropriate.

Biochem Dudes

If I can bum my roommate’s scanner and get wireless up and running in the apartment, you may have a more recent sketch this coming Wednesday.

*let’s face it, a bunch of outbred Americans sitting around in an Irish session often drive a harder party line than a Catholic in Belfast. Same for the Scots. The less skilled the players, the stricter the rules of play.