Do you have a plan to vote?

Let us tell you the information you need to register and cast a ballot in D.C.

Now I must count to infinity. I will begin with 1. From 1, I will progress to 2. I will then skip to 30,000. But 400,000 is bigger than 30,000. And 3,000,000,000 is bigger than 2,000,000,000. These numbers are very high! How will I ever get to infinity?

These are not the feverish ravings of a lunatic, but the feverish ravings of a sleepless bass player who contracted the flu in Denver in 2003. I, Justin Moyer, was that bass player and, for me, Denver and the flu go hand in hand. Sneezes, sniffles, aches, and pains spoil my memories of everyone’s favorite Mile High City. When I contracted “Denver fever” in 2003, the city was gripped by a influenza epidemic that killed many children. In the grip of my illness, I convinced myself that I was responsible for the deaths of these innocents.

You just toured Sicily, I reasoned. There, you contracted a severe Sicilian flu. Clearly, this Denver flu that is killing children is a mutated version of your Sicilian flu. This flu has mutated so quickly that you have contracted it twice! You are Death’s pale rider who has brought the Sicilian plague to Denver! The blood of innocents is on your hands! Certainly you will pay for this on Judgment Day! Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Because I do not like to envision myself as Death’s pale rider, I prefer to think about stage diving while in Denver. Second to breeding pestilence, stage diving is my favorite Denver activity. Do not be misled—-stage diving is not a safe activity. However, stage diving is damn sure guaranteed 100% fun. In pursuit of irresponsible fun, I have executed two stage dives in my thirty years. My second stage dive was at a show in Europe—-you may, if you wish, think of it as an international stage dive. My first stage dive, however, was of the domestic variety. On another, flu-free tour, I executed a domestic stage dive at a Denver venue called Cervantes. Cervantes’s stage was emblazoned with an enormous Grateful Dead skull emblem. I’m not sure who fashioned this emblem, how I got to perform on this emblem, or why I thought it appropriate to stage dive off of this emblem. However, I did indeed execute a stage dive in Denver under Cervantes’s watch. Perhaps Denver’s rarified air contributed to my Bacchanalian indulgence.

Compared to previous Denver madness, my show in Denver earlier this week at Larimer Lounge was uneventful. No stage diving took place. I was troubled by a scratchy throat, but no Red Death reared its head. Most importantly, no children died. So runs my progressive philosophy: it is better to have a mediocre show where no innocents die, then a spectacular show that claims the lives of one or two young persons.