aren't you that GUY from that Band?

When I actually was a Kamikaze Baby, I used to get mistaken for the drummer of the Strokes. Often. In fact, Jules and I got to hang out with Broken Social Scene one very strange night while on tour in Toronto, courtesy of the aforementioned mistaken identity on behalf of said band lead singer's drunken girlfriend - who was convinced we had recently hung out backstage at some American festival. She was cool. He was apparently unimpressed and a bit of an ass. We just made the best of it.

Anyway, now I just get stopped on the street as the singer of my former band. It happened to me again yesterday morning as I was stepping out of the Royal Bank in my old neighbourhood. I guess I still look the same. The problem with this is that I rarely recognize the people who recognize me. Story of my life. I tried my best to place Dimitri - friend of Jules and current engineer at Planet Studios - but to no avail. I'm assuming he liked the band or else why would he have bothered to stop me. Why go out on a limb and risk having the wrong guy just to say: "Hey, you're that guy from that band I never really cared for much. What else are you doing now that I might not be interested in? " Memory or not, I feel like I navigated the side walk meet-and-greet quite well. These things have a way of catching me off guard.

Still playing?
Yes. Just not with the band. You?
Not as much. I try to write on the guitar before work but, you know, it's always crazy hours in the studio.
Yeah, but at least they've got some killer gear.
Yeah. So just refresh my memory. It's...
Rob.
Rob. Rob Scalia, right?
Yeah.

In retrospect, I feel like I should have at least mentioned this blog or the Mothership before going our separate ways. (After all, we are scientists) Or at least asked for his Facebook. Is that common practice now? Or do the two parties in question assume that once you know each other's names and current places of work, the friend request will come if it was meant to be? I wonder.