Okay, so I'm not gonna make a pretty paint like Tracy did, and I won't make a Flash movie like Carmen. I'm just going to tell you what I really think would happen if my two selves happened to stumble into the same rip of the fabric of the space-time continuum. So, let me introduce you to this shy kid who loved music. His name was Jim. He was fairly timid, and was more at home sitting in his room listening to music than going out and partying. He sang in a select choir, toured Germany, won awards and wasn't a terrible clarinetist in the band. Then one day he met a guy with a bass guitar. Honestly, at the time he didn't even know how many strings a bass guitar had (and to this day is still trying to figure that one out). So I think you get the picture. This bass guitar became his obsession. He worked all the next Summer to buy his own, working whatever job he could. Then a strange thing happened. He moved to a new city. Okay, so it wasn't that strange, but it was strange to him. I mean really odd. But this strange oddness carried with it an interesting twist. In his obsession with learning to play bass guitar, he met a guy that would teach him not only to play his bass, but to record it as well. Granted, recorded bass guitar by itself gets old very quickly, but it was enough to start another obsession. This was it, he would go to school to learn to be a recording engineer and record his own band... Fast forward 17 years. There's this guy. This guy is me. I not nearly as shy, but am still more at home sitting in my room listening to music than going out and partying. I make web sites and I make records. I haven't sung in years (many are grateful I'm sure), nor have I touched the clarinet which has long since passed on to a nephew. I try to play bass guitar, but being the best bass player in Cookeville, TN makes me about the 35,779th best bass player in Nashville, TN. SO I focus on the music and the code. But there's one really different thing about that likeable kid that had the dream to work in a job that really shouldn't count as a job. Somewhere along the way, be it from the incredibly long hours, working with more Australians than I'd like to count or the fact that Starbucks coffee is over $4 a cup, I became... mean. You know, it was gradual, and I never really noticed it, kinda like how you eat whatever you want at 205 and suddenly, 2 years later, you're 285 (insert fat joke here for B). In all honesty, I think it came from having to -- day in and day out -- lie about to people about how badly they sucked. I didn't really notice when I changed, but gradually it got easier and easier to tell someone that they might as well pack up and go home because they were just wasting their time. I actually realized it one day when while recording a band, the female bass player was having trouble with a part and I asked her to try it another way. She said that was how she always played it. I said "well, you're sucking at it now, so do it my way or I'll hire someone else". She cried. I didn't feel as bad as I thought I should have. That didn't bother me. Interesting... So my young self and old self meet in the studio: YOUNG JIM: Hey, um, I was wondering, if I could play some stuff for you and you could maybe, you know, critique it? OLD JIM: Make it quick, my Starbucks is getting cold. YOUNG JIM: *fumbles over a couple of lines, then rips off some really cool riffs* OLD JIM: *stifles laugh* Uh, yeah, that's... um... I think time's up. Perhaps a career in food service would be more up your alley? YOUNG JIM: *cries* OLD JIM: Oh good Lord. *walks out* Yep, that's it kids. I think if I met myself I'd make myself cry.