8-24
I recorded Chapters 1 through 5 of "Arcove's Bright Side" on my regular Outcast SD card, and filled it up (each chapter usually takes close to a gig of memory in ultra-high quality audio), and started on one of the new cards Big gave me for my birthday, putting Chapters 7 through 16 on it. When I finally finished editing the first five chapters, I . . . oh, go back and read the previous sentence again, and see if you can tell where I'm going with this.
You done? Did you find it? If not, don't worry about it, I'll explain. There was no Chapter 6. I finished editing Chapter 7, but realized I didn't have 6, so I went looking for the earlier SD card (assuming, logically, that I recorded six chapters on it, but only transferred off five). I grabbed the SD card from the drawer where I found it looking for White-Out yesterday (yeah, I still use White-Out, every single day), and when I popped it into my laptop . . . it didn't have any "Arcove's Bright Side" recordings on it. Instead, it had recordings from . . . 2020 and 2021. What the heck?
I realized, in looking over those file names, that this was the SD card that I lost last year sometime, and being certain it was in my drawer, went searching for it, throwing out old ticket stubs and receipts, but not ever finding it. It had indeed been in that drawer all the time. It sucks that I lost it, but it was nice that I found it again. And the first file that I transfered off it was the Rish Outcast episode I did last year, and then never was able to find, the one I dedicated to (the late) Big Anklevich, so that I could work on it in between chapters of Abbie's book up at the cabin.
And it gives me the chance to use my insanely culturally insensitive Short Round/Indy "Lost Episode" intro. It's been a long time, offensive-to-today's-generation-but-totally-in-keeping-with-my-love-for-the-Eighties-character clip, it's been a long time.
I want to talk about the trailer for SMILE sometime, but not right now. I also neglected to do my recording from the book from the library because once it got dark . . . it seemed like a foolish thing to do.
In many ways, I feel a little bit like the Hulk (or more appropriately, like Bruce Banner), always having to be aware of my surroundings, lest I lose control and all hell breaks loose. Well, maybe that's a bad analogy, but even without reading anything scary or talking about anything more frightening than mixing eggs with chili, I was envisioning silent, black-garbed figures standing in the cabin with me, or watching me from the other side of the window--you know, the usual overactive imagination junk, only a tiny bit stronger than it was last week or the week before. Even as I type this, I can hear the wind blowing outside, and the sound it makes is way eerier than it ought to be.
I finally threw in a movie, and the one I chose (for some reason) was TRON 2. I had never seen it. Partly, it was because I had never particularly liked the first one (I saw it as an adult, and maybe that makes all the difference). Also, I had heard that, except for Olivia Wilde, there was nothing good about TRON: GELACY, and I had already seen the horrific CG Jeff Bridges in the trailer, so I figured, why subject myself to that?
Well, the movie was pretty much exactly what I had been told. The digital de-aging was absolutely the worst I've ever seen (even including the ghastly Princess Leia that ruins the ending of ROGUE ONE), and Olivia Wilde's face was perfectly symmetrical and even made that odd haircut look good.
But it was both better than and worse than I expected it to be--the main actor, Garrett Headland, was so bland and unremarkable that I'd be surprised to hear he ever acted again (and I'll be sure to bring him up the next time somebody complains about the guy who played John Carter and Gambit [and the lead in BATTLESHIP]), and better--the music by Daft Punk was pretty darn cool, and the Jeff Bridges performance was nice, both in his human and unholy abomination roles.
Still, because I thought the 1982 TRON was so mediocre, it makes me wonder if I'd feel differently if I saw it again. Uh oh.
Arcove or Exercise: Both
8-25
You may not believe it, but it's already started getting cool again up here. It was in the sixties when I got here (despite being in the mid-nineties at home), and once the sun went down, when I drove to the dam to do my run, it was in the high fifties. And at night, I actually considered building a fire (didn't do it, though).
Once I realized it was in the forties outside and I had closed the one remaining open window, I decided I would make a fire. Well, some things never change: I start a fire, and it went out almost immediately. So, like the Russian space program that one-upped our million dollar zero-G pen, I simply put on a long-sleeved shirt--problem solved.
It is now three pm. I've done a couple of menial tasks, eaten a dozen eggs (don't ask), and read another chapter in my super mediocre Houdini book while on the exercise bike, then took what was supposed to be a twenty minute nap (I even set an alarm), but wasn't. And now I'm back to editing . . . and I realized I can't stand the sound of my voice. Maybe that asshole "Bold Guys Sprint" writer was right in 2013. Next week, my cousin is going to Disneyland with his family, so I could come up on Tuesday afternoon instead of Wednesday. Maybe then I'll get a few more chapters done.*
I edited the last chapter of "But Now I'm Found," and it was eight minutes and fifty-four seconds. The recording time on that chapter had been twenty-two minutes and forty-three seconds. And I'm even more assiduous for Abbie's book.
Now it's raining again. This summer started out with so much fear about droughts, and the hottest June on record . . . and now, every time I come up here, it's raining. There was a ban on campfires way back at the start of the season, but when I passed the Fire Danger sign yesterday, it was all the way down to Light (down from Extreme, where it was a month ago). And now the rain is pouring down fairly hard, with lots of fun thunder, which will prevent me from doing the recording I should have done yesterday. But you can't predict these things.
Finished editing "But Now I'm Found," and all in all, it comes to two hours and forty minutes. Not sure if that's good, but it is what it is.
Arcove or Exercise: Both
*Here's what producing audiobooks is like: You sit down with a good book, and perform it (at least until your voice gives out), and know that it's your calling, and you are truly alive--you are totally brilliant at doing this one thing, holy smoke, . And then . . . you start to edit. You hear every stammer, every mouth click, every time I shift in the chair, every time I get the words wrong, every time I can't say "Arcove hesitated" (which is a problem around fifty times), and soon, you realize that you are absolutely terrible at even this one thing, holy smoke.
No comments:
Post a Comment