So we’re coming up on the first anniversary of Planet Reverb. I’m pleased with the direction this thing has taken, and in Year 2, I plan to update much more frequently than more recent behavior dictates.

I’ve been a wee bit preoccupied with applying to law school, and other things that would probably bore you to tears.

Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes. I’ve been 28 for about a month now, and I don’t feel any older. I suppose that’s good. And since I think it important to give gifts on one’s birthday, here’s a very special gift for you, Dear Reader: Tomorrow night is the premiere of the second season of “Family Business,” and I’ve decided to once again recap the daring adventures of Adam, Brady, Lila, Cousin Stevie, and a whole host of porn stars. I know y’all enjoyed the recaps last time, so I’m rarin’ to get crackin’. Wow, so many apostrophes in that last sentence.

So, as I reported earlier, my birthday (New Year’s Day) was a blast. Some friends and I went to the moe concert in Camden. And naturally, we had front row seats. Only the finest for me! The concert was being sponsored by InstaLive, a company that promises superb quality bootlegs five minutes after the show ends.

Desiring immortality in any form I can get, I had Kirk email the band and ask them to wish me a happy birthday, thus immortalizing my name on a concert bootleg purchased by 5,000 or so, ensuring that I will indeed live forever. Alas, it was not to be. Oh well. On to plan B.

The concert was amazing, and I’m sure you can still purchase the bootleg. For those of you who don’t know, moe is an amazing band. They are a bit like Phish, but a little more rockin’.

I must add, that I was the most dressed up person in attendance, wearing an untucked tuxedo shirt, and sex-say jeans. (Sex-say jeans are those fashion-y jeans that are textured, and look hot, but I can’t say “fashion-y” and still sound manly, so “sex-say” it is.)

The only downer of the evening came pre-concert in the bathroom. As I was waiting patiently to use a urinal, I noticed a trio of teenagers giving me odd looks. At first, I thought they were admiring my ensemble (which really was quite hot, if I do say so myself), but after the stares kept lingering, I began to get a tad uncomfortable.

I turned around to confront them, and before I could say, “What’s your problem, fucko?” one of the teens came up to me with his hand poised for a high five.

“Heyyyyyy, Mr. Collins!”

“Um, what?”

Another approached wanting a high five.

“What’s up Mr. Collins! I can’t believe you’re here, man!”

“I’m sorry. Who do you think I am?”

Istantly embarrassed, they shrank away to the back of the urinal line leaving me free to pee in peace.

Apparently, they had me confused with their science teacher. Damn, no good kids. I’m not that fucking old.