Last night the Kitchen Synchopators played at Sam Bond’s, and I danced to their ragtime jug band fantasticness until two in the morning. It was the kind of show and the kind of crowd where you strike up constant conversations with the guys in straw hats and the girls in crinoline skirts, and one of them named Billy told Julie and I to catch Hot Buttered Rum closing the Eugene Folk Festival today. So at four in the afternoon the clouds parted just long enough for us to hop around in one of those tie-dyed tattooed patchouli-smelling Eugene crowds for an hour of pretty sweet bluegrass. The only downside to all this merriment being that my right knee aches something fierce, and so for the first time I am ignoring The Schedule, which told me to do an extra long workout today, and instead I am making a PowerPoint for my thesis presentation and hoping for the best.