December Sweeps - Day 321

So, Jeremy Bulloch died yesterday.  He played Boba Fett as well as the Imperial officer that manhandles Princess Leia when she's trying to tell Luke that he's walking into a trap.  He was also in one of the Prequels but . . . come now.  Only Liam Neeson came out of those films with 100% of his dignity intact.*

Up until 2020, people who weren't deep into Star Wars could never get Boba Fett.**  Why he was cool, why he was sexy, why we wanted a dozen action figures each of the guy (why there were a dozen DIFFERENT action figures of the character), when he did so very little.  But Boba Fett was the bomb, before that phrase meant anything.  And before it stopped meaning anything except for ironic use in the last few years (what can I say, I'm white.  I just barely discovered "badass" and the abbreviation A.F.).

It's the look, obviously.  He the best designed character in EMPIRE, a movie that features Yoda, Lando, 2-1B, Snowtroopers, probe droids, Tauntauns, three seconds of Bossk, and if you don't blink, Willrow Hood.  Boba Fett just looks so cool, the armor has an amazing design, and then he's all covered with dents and scratches and marks that describe to us without words that this guy has seen it all.

Jeremy Bulloch was a real stalwart of the convention circuit.  I saw him on three or four occasions, and did pay to get his autograph the same year I did the same for David Prowse, who also just passed away.  He was a cheerful, decent-seeming man, and I am sure he felt loved and appreciated . . . because holy smoke, do we fans love Boba Fett.  

I'm sure Marshal and I will have a bit to say the next time we record our "Delusions of Grandeur" podcast, which is only a few days away.

A guy sent me a message on Facebook yesterday about my book "Ten Thousand Coffins."  He was in the UK and let me know that when I referred to the main character as weighing 100 kilos, that was not the svelte, athletic young lady I was describing (and when I referred to the Skipper as weighing 200 kilos, well, that's a much bigger guy than I intended).  What had happened was, originally, the measurement was in pounds, but because the story takes place in the future, I figured we'd all be on the metric system by then (which begs the question, why the hell aren't we on it now??).  So I must have just copied and replaced every use of "pound" with "kilo," which explains why Brook kilos on the door with her fist, and the men onboard sometimes fantasized about kiloing her in the crewmen's lounge. 

I went into the text version and changed the numbers, but I wondered about everyone who's ever read it--did they think Brook and Gustafson were just really big people, or did they not even notice?  The audio version, of course, is much harder to fix.

I spoke to this listener/fan for quite a while, discovering that there are plenty of other errors in my audiobook for "Ten Thousand Coffins," and it just makes me tired to contemplate it.  There are errors in "You're In Good Hands" too, and the process to fixing an audiobook is to request that they replace the file, and then send along a zipped folder with every single chapter of the book, including title and About the Author, in numerical order, which they will upload when they get around to it.  My worst nightmare--besides the one where I attend the execution of my Cousin Matthew and realize I have forgotten to wear pants only after I'm told that I have to say the closing prayer--is that I waste all the time necessary to do this, and then they say they can't use the file because of some new technical specification that didn't exist when I first submitted it . . .

. . . AND I have no pants on.

Honestly, I wish I had the confidence to send my book out to three or four people and ask them to find all the errors, but I tend not to be able to.  If you want to be my wingman (or wingwoman) (or wingboy, for that matter), let me know, and I'll finish up the audio and send it to you to listen through.

I also need to buckle down and finish the next episode of the Dunesteef.  I can't believe it's the 18th of December and I've not finished the last one.  I've never hated life more than in 2017, when I sacrificed my whole Christmas Eve to get our X-mas show done, only to discover that Big Anklevich had gone to bed early (he was sick) and wouldn't be posting it that night anyway).  But I digress.  I can do this.  Heck, I could stop blogging and do it now.

Sit-ups Today: 166
Sit-ups In December: 1960

Push-ups Today: 109
Push-ups In December: 945

Yes, I finished the episode.  Now I can rest until New Year's.  Except for my own show.  And "Delusions."  And the last chapter of "My Friend of Misery."  And whatever's next.

Words Today: 772
Words In December: 16,241

*Followed distantly by the man or woman who played the Neimoidian that exclaimed, "They've gone into the ventilation shaft!"

**Now that he's appeared--and kicked all kinds of white-armored butt--on "The Mandalorian," it's easy to see why people would like him now.  But that feels to me a little bit like when you have a crush on smart-but-cute Marnie Seamons in junior high, but when she gets to high school, stops wearing her glasses and grows enormous boobs, everybody starts talking about crushing on her.  (true story . . . except I didn't notice M.S. until the transformation happened.  Whoops)