Near hit.
Okay, I'm going down into the basement. Anyone care to join me? No? Right ... off I go, then. If anything dramatic happens while I'm down there, be sure to let me know. Hello, friend(s) of Big Green. Yes, I'm trying to push the envelope a little bit here. The mail carrier doesn't like to get to close to this place (in that it's an abandoned mill), so whenever I mail something, I have to push the envelope down the walk to the curb. Also, we've just recorded something like half a dozen songs and someone ... someone has to mix them. Even though that means cloistering myself away in a dank and musty basement, churning out the mixes and probably missing that monumental event that's scheduled for the coming week: namely, the asteroid fly-by or "near miss". I put that in scare quotes because, as George Carlin pointed out years ago, what people call a near miss should really be called a near-hit. Semantics aside, I just want to re-emphasize here tha...