Let's Clean Up and Go To...

Yep, another NSFW post. I swear I'll get back to good and wholesome entries in the near future! Heh.

I mentioned this in yesterday's Blog entry, so now I shall explain the origin of the phrase, "let's clean up and go to Arby's."

As many of my readers are aware, I edit video for a living. My jobs run the spectrum from new babies and weddings to independent student films and the occasional home-crafted porno.

Now, I'm not personally a huge fan of porn. It just never really appealed to me to watch other people play "hide the 2x4 in the sawmill," to be perfectly honest.

I realize that professional porn is a multi-billion dollar industry and good for them, but they have yet to receive dollar one from yours truly. If that's what gets you off, more power to you. I do not judge what you do in private.

Every now and then, a client will bring in some of their personal "homebrew" porn and ask that I transfer it to DVD or as a video file for their own editing. I have one simple rule that I adhere to and I don't hesitate to explain to the client this rule right to their face.

It goes like this:

"No children, no pets and if this looks like those or if it is coerced sex (ie rape or someone got slipped a mickey, etc.), I'm calling the cops."

I do not fuck around with this rule and yes, I have had to call the cops a couple of times when something just didn't look or feel right about either the client or the footage they presented for transfer. I do not keep copies of what they bring in, nor do I show any of my co-workers for laughs and after the job is finished, all files go promptly into the recycle bin for immediate deletion.

Well, the fun part of handling sensitive material is that sometimes the footage is more hilarious than perhaps the "stars" of the film intended. I can't discuss most of it, obviously, but this one takes the taco.

A rather husky couple were engaging in the throes of sexual congress for a good fifteen minutes. Imagine observing walruses in mating season and you get all the visual you require. I'll pause for a moment while you reach for the mind bleach to purify.

Good for them being free and open with their love for each other. What I didn't need to have permanently etched somewhere in my brainpan was hearing this...

"Oh, baby, you were so good! You rode me like a hungry lion!"

"Yeah, and to tell the truth, I am actually pretty hungry."

"You want to eat something?"

"Yeah."

"OH! I know! Let's clean up and go to Arby's!"

You're welcome.

Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut...

Customer: Yeah, calling to check on my 8mm order.

Me: Yep, still working on it.

Customer: That's ridiculous, it's been a week. What are you guys doing? Are you even working on it?

Me: Normal turnaround is two weeks.

Customer: IT'S BEEN A WEEK.

Me: Yes sir, I understand. The. turnaround. time. is. two. weeks.

Customer: Let me speak to the guy running my film.

Me: I am he.

Customer: He, who?

Me: The video editor who is currently working on your order, sir.

Customer: Yeah, lemme talk to that guy.

Me: You are speaking to the video editor, sir.

Customer: Ah. Well, I turned this film into you a week ago. When will it be ready?

Me: Well, you turned it in on the 15th, so it will be ready on the 30th, sir.

Customer: I don't get it. It's been a week.

Me: Right. That's because our normal turnaround time on 8mm film transfers is set for two weeks.

Customer: If I had known that, I would have gone somewhere else, like competitor's name here

Me: Their turnaround time is also two weeks, sir.

Customer: Don't bullshit me into keeping my business. No one here in town takes two weeks to run 4000 feet of film.

Me: ...

Customer: So, I'm coming by to pick it up and I'll take it to competitor thank you.

Me: Sir, you are more than welcome to do so but if you do, it's going to be an extra two weeks for them to complete the order.

Customer: How the hell would you know that?

Me: We use them to transfer 8mm sound flim. They've always taken two weeks.

Customer: I don't think I like your tone, smartass.

Me: Sir, please try to understand. 8mm transfers take time because we clean your film, repair splices that have failed, run them through the machine, correct the speed to match proper video, make any reasonable adjustments to the brightness/contrast, export the final footage to the files we use to burn DVD's with and then finally burn the DVD's.

I am sorry if you aren't happy with our turnaround time, but these things take time to do the job right.

Especially in cases where we are working with three quarters of a mile of film.

Customer: Fuck you, smartass. We'll see what your boss has to say about this.

...

I now await the wrath of my boss. :p

Heh. I love people who have nothing to do...

So, I got a bitchy phone call today - Pt. 2

Different customer called this past Friday with the same issue.

Time to solve the problem of pressing the "play" button on the DVD remote: five seconds.

Total length of call: 1.5 minutes.

So, I got a bitchy phone call today...

Oh, don't worry...
...you'll love this one.

This fella designed a new type of cattle chute where you can basically work on every inch of the cow without it injuring itself or you. Has all kinds of doors that open and shut to make this process easier. Really is a nifty invention, I say.

He shot video of it and wanted a DVD. Bad move for him was that he recorded it using his digital still camera's video capability.

Not the end of the world, but it was causing him issues because he is trying to sell his chute and wants to get funding for it. He needs a full fledged DVD that will play with decent quality.

So, he sent it off to two other places for transferring before sending it to me. Each time, he had the same problem...

He'd "watch" the movie, but he couldn't hear the sound and he couldn't see the titles he asked for.

So, he sends it to me.

I do the transfer, make the DVD and send it off to him and I promptly forget about it. A few weeks later, he calls me, pissed off.

Sound doesn't work.

Titles don't show up.

Video just loops and doesn't play how he envisioned it.

I queried about his DVD player because I didn't know if it was compatible or not. This rarely happens anymore, but it has been known.

He gave me the make and after a little investigation, I determine that the DVD should play perfectly fine on his machine. Soooooo, to not bore you with the twenty minutes of intervening attempts at tech support, I shall skip ahead a bit.

I went through my video files on the Mac, just to be sure. I scrub through the timeline on Final Cut Pro just to see if I can see any issues.

Audio sounds great.

Titles are totally there.

I switch over to DVD Studio Pro and preview the files there. Nothing wrong at all here either.

I was then curious about whether he actually had the right disc at this point, so I ask him to describe precisely what he sees when he loads up the disc. I did recall that he had both the DVD we created for him and a DVD containing his original video files that we had transferred from his camera.

"Ok," he says, "it says Play Movie and there's a silent video of me right above it."

"Alright," I say, "go ahead and watch the movie and tell me what first pops up."

Pay close attention to what I just said in the previous sentence now...

No, really!

Turns out...

He thought that the preview movie on the DVD disc menu WAS the movie.

He never actually bothered to hit play.

Actually, he didn't KNOW HOW TO HIT PLAY.

I found that out because he said he was trying to rewind but wasn't sure of which button to push, either the double arrowed button or the double arrowed with a line right next to it button.

I told him the double arrowed button.

"Nope, that ain't workin," he grumbled.

"Alright, let's do this again," I said patiently, "Eject the disc and reinsert it."

A moment passed in silence before he huffed, "Alright, back to where we were."

"Now hit the enter button. You should see something that looks like a blue curtain flying across the screen followed by the titles and then your movie."

"Enter button?"

*facepalm*

And I felt bad because I actually stifled a giggle, "Yep, sir, the big round one in the middle of the arrows and such."

The Enter button. A button that one presses just like how you do with a regular Hollywood movie.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, I see..."

That ate up 25 minutes trying to figure that out.

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Epilogue...

After I left Dad's office, I made my way back to the place where my truck was parked. Keep in mind that the campus police had been informed to NOT ticket anyone in that tiny lot during the event.

Someone obviously did not get that memo. I had been from the venue to Dad's office and back in ten minutes and much to my surprise, I discovered a parking ticket stuffed directly behind my windshield wiper.

"What?!?!?! Feckin' Hell!" I growled as my eyes scanned the area. The university Goon Squad had slapped that ticket no less than three minutes ago, so I knew they had to be close by.

I drove around and found the parking patrol around the corner and I slowed down to give them a piece of my mind.

"Oi! You!" I hollered in order to get his attention.

"Can I help you?" the guy asked in a rather officious tone.

I shook the ticket out of the window at the guy. "Yeah, my name is Rob (last name). You ticketed me over at the (same last name) house where I was for an event celebrating the retirement of my Dad, C (last name)! We were, as Dr. (last name)'s family, supposed to not be ticketed during the event, courtesy of the College. The Dean's office sent y'all a notice on that."

Parking guy scratched his chin. "Oh, really? Huh. Your pickup was the only car in the lot when I came by."

"Everyone left five minutes before that. I was helping my Dad for a few minutes in his office, which was no less than ten minutes ago. I was only away for ten minutes and already a ticket?"

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it. You have to file an appeal on Tuesday at the Parking Control office," he replied, mentioning that once my truck was 'in the system,' there wasn't a thing in the world that he could do about it.

*le sigh*

I pulled over to the parking control office to see if they were open. I called the family real quick from a pay phone to let them know where I was. I had no idea where Dad was, but surely I didn't want to pester him with this when he was busy saying goodbye to his office and heading home himself.

Flash forward to thirty minutes later...

I arrive at the family compound to see my dad coming out of the house. "Those bastards actually gave you a ticket?" he gruffed.

"Yeah, can you believe that? I know that we were covered to park there. I realize I drive something that looks like a college kid's car, but c'mon now..."

Dad just stood there, shaking his head in disbelief. "Damned ridiculous if you ask me. Give me the paper, we'll just take care of this..."

I couldn't help but chuckle and feel sorry for whomever answers the phone on Tuesday mornings. My dad NEVER used his influence for personal gain, and not a one of us ever tried to take advantage of his position, but this whole thing just had us chuckling off and on.

After all, they said I could park there...

Geo. Harrison once sang that "All Things Must Pass," and so it is with this project. It's been a hell of a ride and soon I shall wrap things up and seek out my next major creative venture.

I can say that it has been a lot of fun and I want to thank y'all for braving through reams and reams of update material. An adventure isn't nearly as fun unless you have someone to tell it to and for that chance, I am also grateful.

-Fin

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 10...

The day of my Dad's retirement had finally arrived.

The College had decided to hold the event in the former home of a person who shares our last name, the building belonging to the University in perpetuity. It was a rather fitting venue for a final tribute to a man who has devoted his life to others.

I dressed at work around two, shucking my normal work uniform for the suit jacket, tie and hard shoes that haven't seen the light of day since I put them into the storage shed after my last move. Before then, these fancy duds hadn't seen the light of day since I moved in with D and had sit, unused, in my closet.

I'm not one for fancy dress, mostly out of utility than anything. Work dress standards are polo shirts and decent pants. While that usually agrees with my typically non-dressy nature, I do enjoy dressing up on occassion. I feel like a sexy beast in a suit but I don't have the overconfident, better than thou nature that goes along with it. I suppose the sexy points are cancelled out by my low self-confidence so that I look like a chimp in a suit.

Explains a lot as to why I 'fancy up' very rarely.

What amused me the most was walking out of my office in such fancy dress. The questions ranged from "are you seeking work?" to "are you seeking good legal representation?" Ha! Ha! Leave it to my co-workers to make with the funny when I'm already nervous as hell to begin with.

I burn a last smoke, mostly to keep awake at this point more than anything else. I've slept 14 hours since last Sunday and I'm struggling to maintain homeostasis as it is by fueling myself with enough nicotine and caffeine that would fell a giraffe.

I expected it though. At least I had the knowledge that I was done with the editing part. I only had a speech to get through and all would be well.

I arrived to find my brother M and Dad waiting in the hallway to greet newly arrived guests. M and I had never really got along, but I admit that I was damned glad to see that he showed up. One of my other brothers, G, lives in Maine, so there wasn't much of a chance that he could make it. The other brother, D, was stuck doing inservices that day and didn't have the free sick days to knock off a bit early. We were sad that he couldn't make it, but totally understood.

What was most surprising was when my uncle arrived. It was good to chat with him for a bit before I noticed a familiar face approaching, Dad's former assistant and my main contact at this campus.

Dad introduces us. "Lisa, this is my son, M, who teaches math in San Antonio. This is my brother, Doc, who lives here in Austin. This is my youngest, Rob, who is a video editor who also lives here in Austin."

Lisa offers her hand, which I grasp, give a slight wink to her as I shake her hand and say, "It's a pleasure to meet you!" Lisa's charming smile turns slightly into a conspiratal grin as she replies, "you too!"

Noticing that my Dad was introducing my brother to another one of his former assistants, Sharla, who walked in with Lisa. I tilt my head a little closer and whisper, "table, drawing room," and she nods slightly before asking me aloud if I would like her to put the wrapped gift I had in my hand on the gift table.

I had hidden a copy of the video presentation under a table in an unoccupied room as I entered, feigning a quick interest in the rooms of this beautiful home. Lisa and I had worked out this little detail beforehand and while it was very reminiscent of Cloak & Dagger, I knew that I'd be hanging around Dad for most of the first hour and sneaking off may go noticed.

Other people started trickling in with Dad handling the introductions. I had to be proactive with "Hi, it's nice to meet you's!" and "Why, I haven't SEEN you in years, how have you been's?" to indicate that our conspiracy had not yet been unmasked. I received more than one clever grin from those in the know.

After all the "how doin'" was complete, everyone milled around enjoying the awesome food and wine provided by the University. I found Lisa again and we chatted about life, the universe and everything with a few quick sentences to acknowledge that everything was set up and ready to go.

The speeches from the Dean, Provost, Former Dean and the Division Head in San Antonio would go first. There would be a quick toast and then Dad would give his farewell address.

I would say that everyone who spoke really had a lot of respect and kindness for Dad. It was touching to hear their remarks, even when things got a little sentimental. They honoured Dad by naming a special annual event at the University (which Dad had created during his term as Associate Dean) after him in perpituity as well as granting him the title of Professor Emeritus, which is, in the Academic World, the equivalent of a lifetime achievement award at the Oscars.

They also presented him with a collection of woodworking tools and selections of wood, woodworking being his favourite hobby. The Provost gave a quick toast and everyone tipped their glasses before it was time for the man himself to approach the microphone.

Dad gave a brilliant address. I had never seen him in "speechmode" so I was in awe of his style. I always knew Dad as Mr. Serious and to see him so animated was a treat. I could then understand why people enjoyed his lectures. He told a few jokes, paid tribute to the members of his family and talked about his retirement and gave hilarious answers to some of the questions that he was getting before he retired.

He finished up by saying that he was thankful for everything that everyone has said and also that people were able to come out for his shindig. He wished everyone well and he wrapped up like he thought that the tribute was over.

The Dean came up after the speech was finished and said, "Well, it's been a great chance to offer this tribute to you, C, but we're not quite yet finished. We have a final speaker, Rob, who has a presentation to make."

Dad's head spun a quick 180 degrees in my direction. If I could describe his look, it reminded me of Douglas Adams when he wrote, "Arthur looked like someone had just offered him a slightly grilled weasel on a bun with ketchup." To say that Dad was surprised was an understatement.

I couldn't help by give him a knowing glance and hollered, "Not so fast there, Dad!" He shook his head now in disbelief. He had no idea what I was going to say...

I approached the mic and adjusted it. It had pretty much been the running gag throughout the speeches due to the difference in heights between all the speakers, so I went with it. "Sorry, let me adjust this waaaaaay up."

I didn't have any prepared notes, nor index cards for the speech. I knew my subject very well, especially after my four-month long crash course on everything Dad, I felt I didn't need them. I'm also usually better if I'm more fluid and not restricted to notes. Gives me a chance to adapt on the fly depending on what others have said before I had the mic.

I talked about Dad as a teacher. Not only as one professionally but as one at home. He is a man who's always worn many hats from not only his work responisbilities but also with his kids. He was a professor, a coach, a Scout leader, etc.

I talked about how he had patience with his kids and I started to mention a few times in my life when he was patient with me for doing something stupid, which he quickly interjected "Rob, don't tell them ALL the family stories for crying out loud!", which only prompted me to take a different tack. Dad was always good for an interruption whenever something like this situation would happen, which only fed my material.

"Don't worry, Dad, I'm not going to spill all the beans. After all, I'm just talking about all the things that I've learned from you... And about you... over all these years and, especially, recent months."

Dad's eyebrow started to raise slightly. He was still confused as to why I was up there.

"My Dad has had a long career in his chosen profession. Almost fourty years of Pharmacy practice and education in fact. The funny part is that whenever people used to ask me about what my dad did for a living, I'd always reply, 'Well, he's the (listing his ranks as one long-arsed string of words tied together in one breath).' Still, people would then ask, 'well, what does he do?'

"I'd always shrug and say, "dean stuff," because I really didn't know. Hell, I'm willing to bet that a majority of your kids (pointing towards the audience) have NO clue as to what y'all do everyday. They may know your position, title and a brief summary of major talking points, but as for the day to day stuff, they'd be just as lost in the woods to explain your career as I am.

Dad's chuckling a bit now, but his eyebrow is still a little raised. He hasn't fully grasped it yet.

I continue.

"So, it came one day where I was sitting around with my Mom trying to figure out exactly what it was that Dad has done all these years. I just HAD to find out, so I grabbed a video camera..."

Dad's brow furrowed.

"And made a couple trips to the University..."

Dad's jaw started to drop a bit.

"As well as stopping by the program in San Antonio..."

Dad's jaw? Totally on the floor. Both eyebrows floating now.

"Made a few quick Skype calls and visits to some friends and co-workers as well..."

Dad's face now assuming what I like to call the Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot look: completely shocked.

"...And thanks to everyone's help, we created this," and I handed Dad the wrapped gift, "a copy of the video project. Happy retirement, Dad, from all of us. I love ya."

He gave me a big hug and said, "I can't believe you did this! Thanks, Rob, I just can't believe it!"

I returned to the mic to tell everyone that we have a copy that will play in the front room for anyone who wished to see it. I thanked everyone and walked away.

The reactions were pretty positive overall. I was pleased with how it turned out, but must admit that I was rather sad that I couldn't have the full version ready for Dad. I promised him a full version by his birthday in a couple of weeks, so I do have some more editing to do.

The biggest surprise that I had from all this was from the Interim Dean, who requested a copy for the College. He stated that there was a need for a historical record of the Program and that he'd be honoured if I'd be willing to share a copy.

Gawrsh!

Dad wasn't able to watch more than a few seconds of the presentation at the function. He was busy saying goodbye to his colleagues and friends and he felt bad that he wouldn't have a chance to watch it there and then. He followed up with, "besides, this is something that I want to watch in solitude so that I can fully appreciate what you've made." I thought that was quite an honour in itself.

Someone mentioned to me that I was the "star of the show," which admittedly unnerved me a bit. It was never intended to steal Dad's day from him, so I thanked them and mentioned that Dad was the real star today, I was just lucky to be part of it. At that point, I made a casual exit from the viewing room to seek out some more food and drink.

The event slowly came to a close as people trickled out. We snapped a few last pictures in front of the house and then made our way to the parking lot.

Dad had a few more things to get from his office, so I asked him if he wouldn't mind if I tagged along. Even though I'd been on campus a few times this past month, I didn't actually have a chance to visit his actual office, so I wanted a quick picture or two.

As we walked, we chatted a bit.

Me: "Alright, Dad, so I owe you an apology. I wasn't exactly truthful when I said that I hadn't been on this part of the campus for quite awhile."

Dad: "No, really?" *laughs*

Me: "So, did you have any idea that we were up to something?"

Dad: "No clue. I didn't have a chance to see more than a few seconds of the video, but I could already tell that I had no idea as to exactly what you'd been up to this summer."

Me: "Well, Mom, your co-workers and friends had a lot to do with it as well."

Dad: "I still can't believe it. When will you have the long version finished?"

Me: "Well... Most likely by your birthday."

Dad: "Two weeks? I have to wait TWO WEEKS?!?" *laughs*

Me: "It was either that or not sleep at all this past week."

Dad: "Don't worry about it, Rob, I can be patient. I just still can't believe..."

We walked to his office and he opened the door. The room was somewhat Spartan except for the plant that he wanted to grab and a few neatly stacked items on the desk.

He sank down into his chair and immediately flashed a grin. I snapped a picture and said thanks. "Well, I figured you were up to something again by wanting to follow me to my office," he teased.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, so you know me too well, huh?" I replied.

Dad cocked his head and smiled, "I'd hope so after 31 years, Rob."

He then mentioned that he needed to grab his plant and a few other things. I offered to help, but he kindly insisted that I go on ahead to the family compound. He would be out in a few minutes after he was done. He could take care of turning out the lights.

I wasn't surprised that he had wanted to get his plant. It was his excuse to spend a few last minutes in his office. Dad has a more sentimental side to him than he shows. He was turning out the lights for the last time at the office. Any return to the workplace would now be for official visits, for the occassional consult with a colleague or to grab lunch with a friend or two. The next time he returned, someone else would be sitting behind his standard issue desk. Next time, he'd have to park in the visitor's lot and not directly in front of the building as he has for years.

I can't begrudge him for wanting a few minutes to say goodbye. No one could. I gave him one last quick hug and excused myself to head back to my car.

I thought about the experience and I just felt so proud of him. While Dad and I never saw eye to eye on a lot of issues in the past, I couldn't help but to believe that this whole experience has drawn us closer together.

And for that, I am most grateful.

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 9...

SitRep:

0.25 days remain.

Status: Complete

-------------

I am so gorram tired right now.

Had to come into work for a half day. I really wish I could have knocked off the entire day, but my workload just wouldn't permit it.

That's ok. Shirking my responsibilities at work wouldn't necessarily be a good thing at this time of year when business is starting to pick up for the pre-Christmas rush. Still, when that alarm sounded reveille at zero-ohmygodit'searly this morning, I knew right there and then that I was going to be exhausted as hell and would crave the chance to sleep until noon.

It's been quite a busy week for me in trying to get Dad's video finished. I had underestimated how much edit time I would need, which had the result of pulling more hours per night than I had planned. So, to say that I'm currently surviving on Dr. Pepper is not far from the truth.

My brain is on automatic right now. I finished the video at 4:30 this morning, quickly reviewed it and hit the hay around 5. While my plan of getting to bed by at least midnight didn't come to pass, I am at least happy that I have a three day weekend coming up. Sleep can wait until then...

You know, apart from some bad narration (provided by a sleepy yours truly), I am extremely proud of the finished project. I created a shortened version of the video (minus the final section where people are giving my dad their personal greetings and farewells) to present, which runs all of thirty minutes. Precisely.

Alright, if you include credits, tack on another minute or so, but still it amuses me that I managed to hit 30 minutes of content right on the nose. It runs longer than the original 20 I had thought I would have, but it isn't the complete 50 minute deal that would result from tacking on the final section. Still, it is done and it is awesome.

I plan on creating another version for Dad's birthday next month, including the farewells and well wishes. When it hit 4:30, I just knew that there was no way in hell that I'd ever manage to get the longer version finished unless I skipped out on sleep altogether.

And you know something... I'm ok with that.

Just got off the phone with the lady in charge of the retirement dinner. I'm supposed to go on stage after Dad. He's elected to say a few words, call it his farewell address if you'd like.

After Dad's finished, the dean will introduce me in some way and then... *gulp* ...I'm on. I don't have a formal speech prepared since I tend to speak easier when I'm not encumbered by typed out talking points and so on.

It'll be easy and difficult at the same time. For one, I know the subject very well. Better now, in fact, since I've had a chance to delve into his workplace a bit and gain more of a broader perspective. That's the easy part.

The hard part will be the sad realization that once today has passed, I won't know what to do with myself. Heh.

Seriously though, that is a point I'd like to make about how it feels to work on something, pour your heart and soul into it, finish it and then... Now, what?

I've been eating, breathing and sleeping little more than this project for the entire summer. I've met tons of interesting people, learned way more than I ever thought was possible about Dad's career and have had a lot of fun slinking about playing investigative reporter. I live for video projects like this.

Still, like my dad, I soon will turn out the lights on a chapter of my life and seek out new adventures with the knowledge of a job well done. How neat is that?

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 8...

SitRep:

Final edit status at 67%

15 Hours to Deadline.

Project status: Holy fucking shit, am I going to get this magnificent bastard finished in time or not?!?

-----------

Angels and ministers of Stanley Kubrick, defend me...

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 7...

SitRep:

All interviews have been recorded, captured and logged into Premiere.
100% of required pictures have been scanned, edited and imported into Premiere.
Research at 100%
Script at 100%
Narration at 78.2% (Pretty much recording as I edit to save time by not recording material that I won't use after all).
Editing at 36.4%.

2.25 days remain.

Status: On track for delivery (But I'm getting a little nervous...)

----------------

First off, why the fuck do I do this to myself? Next time I'll just send a card, I swear to cripes... Heh.

Alright, so I'm kidding around with you. I'll admit that I'm worried about running out of gas between today and Friday afternoon due to the fact that I'm essentially working 19 hours a day between the day job and this latest labour of love.

I'm not complaining, though it may sound kind of like that based on those previous statements. Truth be told, I'm still having the time of my life. I think I'm more annoyed at the damned need for sleep and than anything else.

I sat in front of my impromptu editing bay last night editing away at the project and before I knew it, it was 3:20 AM. The odd thing was that 3:20 didn't bother me as much as the realization that if I didn't stop right there and made myself go to bed, I could have easily kept going until I had to leave for work this morning. I knew I needed some sleep last night lest I be completely useless today. I just didn't want to.

I'm racing a finite countdown now. 2.25 days until I either show up with the completed video to Dad's retirement party or I show up with egg on my face and some lame excuse about having to sleep.

It hasn't been a question of being timely along the journey. Having to work around others' schedules, I had to interview when it was convenient for everyone else. I wasn't about to be a dick and tell someone, "Sorry, but you must meet with me no later than two weeks before this thing is due otherwise I'm simply not going to have time to fit you in."

Doesn't work for something such as this project where the people I am meeting with are people that I now have great respect for and who have really added a lot of awesome to the process. The project is a lot richer with their input than without and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Let me tell you something that also makes me eternally grateful: the concept of best friends. Paul & Nola have been among my folks' best friends since around high school and not only were they pleased as punch and honoured to be interviewed, they actually were happy and more than willing to drive halfway across the San Fernando Valley (from Thousand Oaks, a 45 minute or so drive) to take a few quick pictures of the pharmacy where my dad first worked (since I lacked such pictures in the archives to work with). They had some errands to run in the Valley yesterday anyway but still, that was above and beyond.

Needless to say that the next time I'm back in the Old Country, I'm buying them a fruit basket.

And some tacos.

Maybe a tacofruit basket?

I've said it before and I shall certainly say it again. I really love the cut of their jib. Nicest pair of folks you'll ever meet!

But this gives you a small taste of the situation. Bits and pieces of information, pictures, videotapes, interviews and more trickled in over the course of the summer, right up to last night. There's more I could probably collect, but now I really do not have the time. Sadly.

I heard back from the coordinator of Dad's retirement dinner. She asked if I'd like to give a little speech at the end of the program to introduce the video and announce that it will be showing in an adjacent room for anyone who'd be interested in watching. Yep, now I have to think of something mildly intelligent to say. Hoo, boy, I'd better make sure to eat my Wheaties on Friday morning. You betcha fur, Fred.

I suppose that as long as I don't talk about why the "U.S. Americans can't find The Iraq and maps and education and uh, South Africa?!?" I'll be a-ok. Heh.

So, here we are with two days to go. I can see the end now and it is good. A ton of things to do. Must edit like I've never edited before, keep working the day job to make teh mad moneys (heh), fish out my suit jacket, hard shoes, dress shirt and a tie from the storage shed so that I don't show up looking like a damned fool, figure out what to talk about during my 'speech,' and somewhere amongst all that, sleep and/or eat.

It's going to be fun, kids! :)

BTW, before I close, let me wish my teacher pals the best of luck this first week of school! You deserve more than what you get and never, EVER, believe that you get more than what you deserve. I salute you for all your hard work and hope that you have a fun and exciting adventure this school year! ;)

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 6...

SitRep:

13 interviews completed, 1 more to go.
Video footage has been captured and logged.
98% of required pictures have been scanned and edited.
Research at 100%
Script at second rough status, pending final audio interview.

9.25 days remain.

Status: On track for delivery.

------------------

Hello again!

I'm beginning to wonder if I'm channeling Roger Waters a bit. Feels like I've been creatively obsessed with my father over the past few months, at least as far as my blog is concerned. My thinking is to look at these past few months and ask "why not?"

Definitely beats sitting around writing the same old shite that I had been doing over the course of the past year.

So, here we are at 9 days until Dad's last day. Quite honestly, my nerves are a bit shot. Not that I'll admit that to everyone, but as the deadline inches ever closer, I'm finding myself more filled with nervous tension. Although I suppose that admitting that on the Internet kind of negates the previous sentence. Oh, bother.

Seriously though, I'm excited. I've spent the past few months researching, talking with a baker's dozen of Dad's colleagues and friends and attempting to stalk down any photo, videotape or paper clipping that I can find. Just as it was with my granddad's video last year, I find myself having a blast.

What's really made this a fun experience is all the support that I've had from everyone that I've talked to. Most of them are curious to see what the end result will be, but I suspect that a good chunk of them are having a good time being members of my impromptu Daddy Intelligence Agency. Or perhaps members of Dad Eye-5. I really need to find a better spy agency name one of these days.

I think that is what has added to the fun behind the project. It's a fucking rush to be able to talk to the Provost of a major university, sneak into the very workplace of my subject and nick a few pictures to scan and return (with my subject not the wiser) and grab some footage of the campus before finishing my day with a refreshing Dr. Pepper and the knowledge of having made some major progress.

I can tell that others are having a good time as well because it's likely that they, like myself, realize that had we done this project in the open, Dad would never have sanctioned it. They had a retirement BBQ for him last weekend for the San Antonio crowd and although I wished that I could have been there, I knew that there was no way that I could have shown my face.

Most of the crowd there had been sworn to secrecy and it's kind of one of those "outta sight, outta brainpan" deals. It sucked to miss the event because I loved the SA crowd. They can be a ton of fun, but I just couldn't take the chance.

Mom informed me that just about half of the people I had met with had pulled her discretely aside and asked if she knew what I was up to. She couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. "Like a bunch of guilty looking kids with their hands in the cookie jar."

Couldn't help but chuckle at that one either.

Speaking of hilarity, I was over at the family compound the other day whilst Dad was in Tucson. I was rooting through a ton of notes with Mom, attempting to shore up my script and also to grab a few last pictures from their albums. While we were sitting on the living room floor, I mused that it was a shame that I couldn't have snapped a few pictures of Dad's office in San Antonio when I was there the week before. By then, he'd already cleaned out his office so only a empty shell remained.

Mom had this evil grin on her face.

"What?" I asked, adopting a curious expression.

Mom's smile curved a little as she said, "You know... Dad just happened to bring a few boxes back from San Antonio the other week..."

"Oh?" I replied, "And isn't it just unfortunate that he happened to leave them in the middle of the floor of the sewing room?"

"It is," Mom agreed.

"And isn't just such a shame that he carelessly left said boxes untaped so that someone of a clumsy nature could just accidentally blunder into such boxes, resulting in the contents spilling all over, let's say, the rug in there?" I ask.

"Yes, indeed. That is a shame. Some people should really take better care of their belongings and put them away as they were warned so that no one, as you have so rightly said, could blunder into them."

Got to love Mom's deviousness. Heh.

So, I snapped a few scans and digital stills of some of the contents. Hey, it was the least I could do to ensure that nothing was damaged after my tragic "accident." Yeah, that's the ticket.

For the rest of the week, I have taped the Provost (a story in itself) and have taped a few Skype calls to two people who've known Dad since he started working here in Tejas. I have one final phone call to make two of my folks' best friends back in Los Angeles and after that, I am done with interviews!

Coolest pair of people you'd ever meet. They even were so nice as to offer to stop by the pharmacy in the Valley where my dad got his start and snap a picture of it for me. How cool is that?

Anyway, that's where I've been lately. This next week's going to be ultra busy, but I'll stop in with another update as things progress!

Excelsior!

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 5...

SitRep:

11 interviews completed, 2 more to go.
Video footage has not been edited as yet, but footage is still being noted and logged when possible.
75% of required pictures have been scanned and edited.
Research at 100%
Script at rough draft status pending review.

17.5 days remain.

Status: Video Transfer Hold, other sections on track for delivery.

------------------

First, the bad news. My camera has fucking died on me. Needless to say, this is a major blow to my progress because I still have two hours of footage to capture on the computer and I can't do that if the fecking camera is out of action. Hopefully I can either repair it or borrow another, but it still has pissed me off beyond imagination. Just can't have nice things these days...

And now, the sunshine between the clouds:

As of yesterday, my video interviews are complete. I have two phone interviews to conduct and record, which is why I praise the Lords of Silicon for creating VOIP and programs such as Skype and Pamela.

Skype, for the uninitiated, lets you talk through the Interwebs to anyone who has either a computer running Skype or to anyone who has a phone (cellular or landline). That makes me happy because I can talk for free or for almost cheap as free to people and to not have to pay a monthly phone bill. Yay, team Skype!

The sound quality is pretty decent as well and I must say that this also amuses me.

Pamela provides a way for recording these calls. You may have to chuck in a few bucks to buy the software, but they let you try it out free for a month. How convenient is that?

Have a couple phone interviews to grab then it's off to edit like the dickens.

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 4...

SitRep:

10 interviews completed, 3 more to go (ended up dropping a few who wouldn't be able to meet).
Nothing has been edited as yet, but footage is still being noted and logged.
50% of required pictures have been scanned and edited.
Research at 100%
Script at 80%

28.35 days remain.

Status: On track for delivery.
------------------

Busy week.

Started off meeting with my uncle (Dad's brother) on Monday. It was quite an interesting experience to meet with my uncle because I didn't know what to expect from him.

My uncle and my dad didn't always see eye to eye on, well, pretty much anything. They were fairly opposite to one another in most respects and didn't always have the best relationship in the world. I suppose that I could write another large entry just detailing that alone, but in this case I shall just restrict myself to our meeting Monday since writing long essays on sibling rivalry would literally Amtrak for pages upon ages.

Anyhoo.... Interesting.

We spoke on camera about Dad and his early life. Mostly innocuous information about where they were born, what their parents did for a living, Dad's love for baseball, etc. After a certain point, I knew that we had reached the unspoken Wall of Fire, where the period of time in their lives after my blood grandfather's sudden death in '55.

I could see that we were there, and I knew that the topic was a no-fly zone with my dad, so I wisely decided to fast forward to the time seven years later after Dad had received his bachelor's degree. We continued on discussing Dad's decision to go into the field of pharmacy, his doctorate from USC and his eventual move to pharmacy education.

After the Q&A, my uncle gave a very heartfelt message, which kind of gives me hope that one of my brothers in particular and I can one day bury the hatchet. He told Dad how proud he was of him and his accomplishments (a big step for my uncle) and that he hoped that in retirement, they could become closer as brothers. Then he said that he loved Dad, which just about floored me.

So, it was quite a moment. A touching one that I just couldn't deny. They may not have always been close, but my uncle seems ready to try.

Afterwards, we spoke off camera about my blood grandfather's death and the effect that it had on both my uncle and my dad. I was surprised that he was so willing to share his thoughts with me and I was grateful for the chance to listen. I hadn't heard a lot of what he said before, but it did help to put things in perspective. I really wanted to call my dad just to tell him about the evening, but I knew that if I did, the secret project would be a wash. Dad is far from being an idiot.

Kind of funny, that. Dad's suspicious of something, but he doesn't quite yet know what. A colleague that I had interviewed last week accidentally slipped by commenting on how tall I was. Dad, of course, didn't really pursue the matter too far because the colleague quickly changed the subject to something work-related. Instead, Dad queried Mom: "How did he know Rob was so tall?"

Mom covered: "Well, hon, it's natural that people are going to talk about you and your family now that you're retiring. I'm sure he saw a picture of Rob at some point. You do have pictures of the family in your office, after all!"

Dad: "Oh, yeah. Hmmph. Didn't think of that."

Yeah, I've had a few close calls. Ever tried to ask twenty people who work closely with someone to keep a secret from them? Not easy, Chuck.

I was invited to Dad's retirement party in San Antonio and it kills me that I can't go. I know the SA crowd a lot better and some of them can be quite entertaining. I met with them on Wednesday, but I know that if I show up on that Saturday, someone will blow the good ship Silence out of the water with an accidental comment.

The San Antonio bunch was more fun to interview. I remember most of them from picnics, gatherings at my folks' place and the occasional visits to Dad's office, so it was in a way like meeting old friends. They were more willing to crack a little wise and kick back with me, so I really felt like this visit was a roaring success.

Also, they had a ton of pictures, some videotapes of my dad in action, more videotapes of the lampoons (kinda like a roast session put on by the students for the faculty) and several stories that while not necessarily for the video, were fun to hear anyway. Yaaaay, team SA!

Overall, I'm feeling rather optimistic about the project. I have two more interviews next week, one with the Provost at UT and another being a internet phone interview with a friend of the family. Also plan to stop by the family compound during my Dad's trip to Tucson next week to gather a few more pictures if I can swing it...

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 3...

A quick SitRep before we continue:

4 interviews completed, 12 more to go.
Nothing has been edited as yet, but footage is being noted and logged.
15% of required pictures have been scanned and edited.
Research at 92%
Script at 80%

28.35 days remain.

Status: On track for delivery.
------------------

Went by Dad's office yesterday to conduct four interviews with some of his co-workers. Ever have one of those feelings where you think you know someone but in fact, you don't know near what you thought you did?

Welcome to yesterday afternoon.

I began with Subject A, who long ago had been one of Dad's students. I think out of all of my subjects yesterday, A was by far the most emotional about my dad leaving. Dad had been his mentor, the one who A still turned to occasionally for advice in life matters or issues facing his professional career.

He gave a very sweet, sincere farewell to Dad and I was touched by his sentiment. Good start.

Next was Subject B, who worked the closest with Dad in recent years. They are good friends, of a fashion. It's funny to hear my Dad's version of stories versus the version that B tells. For example, I joked a little with B about them. Here is an excerpt:

Me: To hear Dad tell it, it was fun when you guys went to that conference. He was telling me about what ya'll did...

B: Eh? Oh, yeah, I suppose. He was in bed by 9:30 PM and I sat there watching TV both nights we were there. You must be thinking of the ******** conference when he stayed up until 10 PM working over some notes and I read a book. *laughs*

Wild and crazy guys, no? What B said though on camera was very flowing, sincere and highly complimentary. Overall, a good interview.

Off camera, he told me that he was a bit worried about what my dad would do in his retirement. Somehow he didn't think that Dad would be satisfied with just messing around in his wood shop all day. "Man's got a strong, honest mind and knows how to get something done and done right. He has a passion for teaching and for his work and I just hope that he finds something that will fill the void and keep him busy."

In some ways, I could see his point. Dad's CV alone spans 11 pages. In very tiny print. He's been busy all his career and it seemed that he never did anything half-assed.

I will say that Dad's earned his retirement two hundred-fold and then some. If he's happy tinkering around in his woodshed for the rest of his life, that is more than good enough for me. Dad deserves to be happy doing whatever it is that he wants to do in life.

Overall, B was a good interview. I may edit him a little bit, but otherwise his info was golden.

Next was Subject C, who had worked with Dad on his last major project. This one was a real short interview because it started off with a fishing expedition. I had no clue who this fella was and I didn't want to waste a ton of his time. I asked a couple questions to feel where he fell on the timeline, decided to abandon that and just ask about the project before having him wish my Dad farewell. Quick and/or dirty.

Then we move along to our final interview, Subject D. D starts out by making this really familiar facial expression that I've seen on Dad's face a million times. Obviously, D's seen this expression almost as often as I had growing up. I kind of laugh nervously. "Well," he says in a serious voice that is somewhat eerily familiar, "Shall we begin?"

I start the interview. D gives a collection of answers that are highly complimentary, yet informative all the same. Things seem to flow until he starts talking about how unappreciated my Dad and his colleagues in his department were for all there hard work.

Good start but a bit of an awkward finish I thought. I figured I'd have to edit this guy fairly carefully. I thanked him for his time and turned the camera off. Just as I shifted to get out of my chair, D asked, "Ok, now that the camera's off, do you mind if we go off record for a bit and we can chat for awhile?"

I was a little surprised. "Umm, sure," I replied as I sank back into the chair, "what would you like to talk about?"

"Well," D replied, "I only gave you half of the story. The half that everyone pretty much wants to hear in your video. Would you like to hear the rest?"

What followed was a very honest look from his point of view at my father both as a leader and as a person. He spoke about my dad's personality and character and how if it wasn't for someone like that leading the charge, the program would never have achieved the recognition that it has now. He cast a few stones at a few people who were quick to snatch up the credit for all of Dad's team's hard work even though they did little to contribute to it.

He followed up with some honest criticism about my dad's leadership techniques, saying that he was always business and kept people on task. Wasn't one to waste a lot of time and could be a bit brusque at times when he was dead set on something that he believed was the right thing to do.

Then D concluded with a tale of regret that he didn't even know who I really was. "I knew your Dad had kids and grandkids, but he rarely talks 'bout them. He's a private man."

That's when it hit me. I suddenly felt like an intruder for the first time so far.

It's not like I really believed that I was invading my dad's privacy by secretly talking with his colleagues, but I couldn't deny that I felt, well, pretty damned nosy at this point. It's odd now to think that. He is my dad after all. I'm doing this for... Well, I'm doing it for him. Plain and simple.

A funny notion crossed my mind. After I thanked D for his time and made my way back to my truck, I was reminded of Alice as she stood there and debated whether to see how far this particular rabbit hole went.

If only I knew...

Tips Welcome...

As a humble video editor working for a small business, I find that accepting tips isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Don't get me wrong, I love what I do. I get up every morning and get to sit on my ass and plow through hours upon hours of everything from baby's first steps to borderline crappy student-crafted art school films.

The entertainment value alone is just about worth its weight in Cool Ranch Doritos.

I'd say that one of the greatest rewards in my chosen profession (apart from the satisfaction of a job well done) are the clients who choose to reward me with an unsolicited tip. I usually politely decline at the first offer, but rarely do I flatly say absolutely not to a second.

Some of my more interesting tips/tip offers:

1) Tacos. I love tacos for their relative cheapness, so that usually fills my requirement when I'm out of lunch money for the week. There's a decent taco place near work, so I've received a few gift cards and taco plates from my clients.

2) Marshmallows. I have no idea where the idea came from, but the person who bought this for me was under the impression that organic, flavourless marshmallows appeal to the average video editor. Still was a nice gesture, so I wasn't less than gracious for the offering. If it had been the dead of winter, I may have dunked them in my cocoa. Perhaps.

3) Beer. Rarely will I turn down free beer. One lady dropped off two twelve packs of Shiner Bock (local brew in Tejas) once, which made me Mr. Popular after work. Usually I get a twelve or sixer of various brands/flavours/etc. whenever someone beer tips me, so after I take my rightful share, I reward those who can best curry my favour during the workday.

Some days it can be like the Thunderdome here when there's free beer at stake.

Alright, I exaggerate a bit. Still is nice to share with others though, isn't it?

4) Cash. I love cash. Really, really, really love cash. Then I can buy tacos AND beer which makes me happy.

5) Tickets to a crappy movie fest intentionally showcasing crappy movies at the Drafthouse. Good for an evening of laughter.

6) Sexual Favours. Seriously, this offer did happen. I did a favour for a mid-twenty something gal who was really having a bad time. Her husband had been beating her and she was working on a divorce and escaping the arsehat with her daughter. She didn't have a lot of money and couldn't afford the rush charges, so I worked on her video transfer during lunch and put it at the head of the line so that she could have it in time for a court date.

She was so overcome with gratitude that she said that she could kiss me. I chuckled and told her that she didn't need to do that, though I appreciated the offer. "No, I'm being serious! I could literally and happily kiss you for this, that is if you'd like to!" She gently touched my arm, which kind of told me that yes, she was serious.

Well, I didn't think that'd be the honourable thing to do at all. First off, I had a girlfriend at the time and that would be a really dick move to be kissing others while attached to someone else. Also, had I not been with someone at the time, I still wouldn't have even considered it. The client had been through emotional, physical and psychological hell and I was not about to complicate that. Plus, kissing complete strangers without the courtesy of at least a first date? Not my bag, baby.

So, I sent her packing. Politely. With a simple, professional handshake and a friendly smile.

Good times.

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 2...

*VERY BOLD FACED WARNING: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART ONE, CLICK HERE FIRST TO READ IT!*

I was still in shock. "Wow, Dad, that's great! Can't believe you're finally doing it."

Dad cleared his throat slightly, "Yes, I'm finally doing it."

"So, are they throwing you a retirement dinner?" I asked.

Dad cleared his throat again, "I told them to save the money on a dinner and just dump the funds into a scholarship fund or something to that effect. They could put the money to better use that way."

Ah, Dad, Mr. Humble.

The fact of the matter is that my Dad has never really craved a ton of attention. He never wanted to be showered with tons of praise or awards. Although he topped out at the ranks of associate and assitant dean of his department, he was a college professor at heart and his goal was to further the cause of higher education, not to have his name plastered on the side of a building.

On the other hand, he did wish to be given proper credit for his work, which was something that was not always appreciated by The Powers That Be who typically were more into the prestige and economic benefits of higher education and were not wholly against taking credit for the hard work of those in their department. My dad got skunked a few times by having someone take the credit for all his hard work, but instead of letting it get to him, he pressed on.

Better to work on the future than to sit here and moan about the past.

My dad has had quite an amazing career but if you ask him about his career milestones, he is quick to point out the extensive list of those who worked right alongside him. He finds a lot more enjoyment in pushing the frontiers of his field than in receiving honours for his accomplishments.

Last year, the department decided to install him as a Legend, which is a very high honour. He insisted that they choose somebody else because there were so many worthy candidates who have done so much to further the Program.

Let me tell you, my mom just about had to hog tie and drag him down to the awards dinner. As my mom told me, "there was a time for humility and there is a time for you to grin and let people thank you for your hard work. Getting your dad from A to B was a challenge."

Which leads me to the present day.

In honour of my dad's upcoming retirement, I decided to attempt a new tribute video, much like the one I made for my grandfather. Instead of delving into family history by the shovelful, I would be quietly excavating my father's career.

After all, this video is to be a surprise. Unfortunately, this isn't like it was with my grandfather who was 1,400 miles away and therefore easier to hide such a surprise from. Nooooo, I'm doing this right directly under my father's nose.

I'm attempting to collate a list of my dad's co-workers, colleagues and friends in an attempt to give a broad look at his career. My primary co-conspiritor on this fool's errand is my mother, who will run interference and provide me with as much information as she can to aid me in my quest.

A list of names and e-mail addresses. A general summary of his major career points. Two campuses in two separate cities. Some contacts easily accessible, others spread across the country.

One point five months to film and edit this beast.

One thing I do know is that Dad's more than worth the effort. I only hope I can do him justice!

Excelsior!

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 1...

"So, I turned in my resignation, effective August 31st."

I couldn't believe it. Or, more likely, I wasn't sure if I was ready to believe it. Dad was actually going to retire.

I mean, here I was sitting there eating some chips and having a pleasant chat with my father. Chats between the two of us had never been really lengthy when I was younger. While my dad and I knew that we loved each other, we just never seemed to have the shared common interests that would help facilitate a conversation that would extend beyond the normal topics of school, work, financial responsibility and the building of good personal moral fibre.

It was either that or I was just too (insert lame excuse here) to make the attempt. It was usually easier to share things with either my mom, my grandfather or one of my older brothers. Those three and I had more common ground than I did with my dad, which meant that whenever a major crisis in my life erupted, they were usually the first to know about it.

One of the things I never fully appreciated growing up was that my father frequently had a hard time showing his emotions, a nasty side effect of losing his own father when he was a young lad of fourteen. My dad went through a tough time dealing with the sudden death of his dad and rarely ever discusses his childhood with the rest of the family.

It was a tough time in his life for Dad, which I understood and never tried to push him to talk about. It wasn't that he never would talk about growing up in Missouri or his dad, it's just that whenever he would start you could see almost a dark, lonely spot in his eyes that he'd never admit to anyone, except maybe my mom.

By all accounts, my biological grandfather was a kind, loving and hard working man. He tried to raise his sons with a good work ethic and to be good and decent men. While my grandfather died of a heart condition early in the lives of my dad and my uncle, he still left a mark in my dad's character.

My grandmother remarried shortly after the death of my grandfather, marrying her childhood sweetheart who soon moved my grandmother, my dad and my uncle to live with him in California. My step-grandfather treated the boys like they were his own sons, which carried over to the next generation.

I had always thought it was weird that my dad's parents didn't have the same last name as my dad or uncle, but I never knew my step-granddad as anything other than my real grandfather. He always spoiled us rotten and I never quite made the connection that he wasn't a blood relative until I was around twelve. By then, I didn't really much care. He was my granddad, I loved that man and I cried for a week after he passed away almost twelve years ago.

After my granddad passed, my grandmother came to live with us for awhile. By then she was slipping deeper into Alzheimer's Disease, which had the effect of her losing her short-term memory while her long-term memory was still reasonably in tact.

For a period of six months, I was my grandma's babysitter of sorts. I'd take her on errands, to go play bingo, cook for her and more. By then, she was starting to mix me up with "Louie", which was my biological grandfather's first name.

I started to hear bits and pieces of family history. "Hey, Louie, remember when we took the boys down to Lake of the Ozarks and..."

The thing I kick my ass over was that I didn't think to record these conversations. True, I'm sure that several of these memories could have been mixed together from a variety of her past memories, but I kept hoping to one day talk to my dad about a few of them to get his side.

Sadly, it was a conversation that I never had the courage to pursue to it's fullest. Dad and I talked about a couple of things that I could remember a few years later, but always after a few minutes, I can see that dark pain resurface in his blue eyes.

Happy memories or not, the time predating his family's move to California is typically a no-fly zone. You have to wait for Dad to escort you through restricted brainspace before you can ask what questions you have.

And you know, I'm alright with that. He misses his dad, which always made it tough during Easter (one Easter many years ago was the day that grandpa "Louie" died). Dad loved having his kids hunt Easter eggs and getting sick to their stomachs off jelly beans and Peeps, but it was tough on him some years. He'd never tell us why and he was good at hiding it, but yet you could somehow sense that something was amiss.

It took myself years and several rough experiences of my own to realize and to understand a little of the mindset. I never understood fully why my father is the way he is, but I can damn well say that I didn't appreciate him a tenth of how I do now.

As my brother, older and wiser than yours truly, once told me, "Dude, you have to just accept two things when it comes to Dad. First off and most importantly, he loves you. He may not always 'get you' or he may not be able to share the same emotional reactions that you have, but that man will jump off a cliff, swim through a piranha-infested swamp and run through dowtown Detroit at 3AM for his family. He does listen. He does care. He may not always share the opinion you want to hear from him, but he does what he thinks is best, decent and good. Secondly, stop eating all his peanuts and drinking all his root beer when you go to visit. Seriously, dude, that's just rude."

My dad is also a very decent, hard-working, loving and honest man. He made it to just about every baseball or soccer game (even when he wasn't coaching the teams himself!), Scout meeting, camping trip and major school event or play that he could for my brothers and I. He rarely missed a thing and when he had to, it killed him to do so.

Heh. That was another thing I never fully appreciated. Man do I feel like the fucking asshole or what for being such a little ingrate now, huh? Sheesh.

I will say this about Dad. He never shirked in working his ass off at home or at the office. His moral code was simple: do the right thing without expecting anything in return, be honest in everything you do, work hard, love your family and take care of them and you will live a good life.

My dad is humble, his idea of an award is the great feeling one gets from working towards a goal and seeing it successfully through to the benefit of others. He never cared for fancy plaques or medals, just the personal knowledge that he did his best.

This, of course, drives the rest of his family nuts...

*continues*

Armenia, City In The Sky...

Hard to believe that June is almost complete.

Don't feel like I've accomplished much this summer so far. A few steps forward, a few steps back so far as life is concerned. Not that I'm complaining, really. After all, no Major Drama in my life is fine with me.

The past few weeks were rather tricky between feeling like ass, attempting to craft a new demo reel to show how spiffy I think I am in regards to video editing, safeguarding the Family Compound during my parents absence (and not really doing as great at that as I probably should have, but considering how things were progressing that week, it's a miracle things turned out as well as they did. Also helped to be lucky enough that my brother & sister-in-law pitched in and helped to clean up after me, which was embarrassing on my part but another topic in itself), overzealous workload and writing long ass one-sentence-style paragraphs instead of easier to read sentences that observe accepted rules of grammar and composition.

Hey, at least I'm not typing my thoughts 1337speak-style either in iambic pentameter or in couplets. That'd be fun to break down and digest, now wouldn't it?

OMGWTFBBQ!

Someone who is usually rather annoying to me accused me of not wanting to better myself, that I was just too comfortable with my existence. According to their opinion, I would never move beyond my comfort zone and do something meaningful with my life.

Fascinating viewpoint coming from somebody who is so close-minded in so many areas of their life that it is amazing they even walk out of the house every morning. I could sit here and sling a few arrows in their direction, but in some ways I've been asking myself questions of this very nature.

I know I have, I cannot deny the truth behind that notion. I've sat here contemplating just what exactly the fuck I'm doing with my life more times than I can truly express.

I've kicked myself enough in the nuts about not following Awesome Career Opportunity A, or even considering Career Opportunity A1A2B. Whether I was too scared to attempt, or if I just wasn't thinking clearly to begin with, I'd just not bite in on that 'bait' like I should have.

Well, kids, I made a decision to pursue one particular opportunity, but it is a risky one. For the course of the next year, I shall be spending a ton of spare time attempting to edit a feature-length documentary.

I'm not exactly sure what I can discuss about it just yet. I haven't signed a NDA or anything, but I don't want to accidentally step on toes regardless.

What I can say is that this project is a risk. If it succeeds, I will have a professional film credit finally to my name, a new (sorta) editing-capable Mac computer and possibly even some monetary compensation at the successful sale of said documentary to either full-scale distribution or sale to one of the cable outlet networks.

I decided to take this step partly for the experience, but mostly because I need a challenge in my life that could either result in complete failure or an awesomely happy success story. I'm hoping for the latter, obviously.

In other news, I'm attempting to edit a new project which, if successful, may land myself in future contracts with the director that I will be working with. Said contracts pay out $1,000+ for a week's work. Dear deus, please don't let me fuck this up.

Two big long-term moves. Not so stagnant, now am I, Obnoxious Nosy Person?

Now to find myself a new place and restart the "comfortable" part of my life... Heh.

Now If They'd Only Post That Kickass Pegasus Fight Music...

Oh, yes.

Oh, very much yes.

Now if I can only whistle up a team and a script. Hmmmm...

You're Buying A WHAT?!?!

Well, if all goes according to plan, I may be the proud owner of a new computer.

A brand new... wait for it... PC.

I think it goes without saying that I felt like a complete and total whore walking up and down the PC aisles at Fry's, completely avoiding the lovlier Mac aisle that I so know by heart. I'd been scheming and drooling over a new Mac for years. For years, I tried to tie the ends together, save the dough and pick out one of those gunmetal gray sexy towers of might.

Each time, sadly, my dreams would be smashed to the wall faster than an empty can of tuna at a cat convention. I'd need new tires, I'd need to go to the vet, I'd need to buy clothes, I'd need to pay bills, I'd need to go to the doctor, etc.

I just could never get enough scratch together to buy myself a new Mac, no matter how much I tried.

You see, I'm in the middle of jumpstarting my life. I want to go further, faster, better. I want to work on my own art, my own films, my own website in the comfort of home and hopefully start to profit from it. As much as I love my old Mac, it's seven years old now and can no longer handle the new and keen things that I want to do with it.

I can buy a PC for half the price and while that may not be the best choice for what I eventually hope to accomplish, it'll at least hopefully start making me more money. Money that I can then eventually turn around and buy a new Mac with.

PC's are just alright in my book. But a Mac? Creative worker's paradise.

Besides, the ol' Mac isn't going anywhere just yet. There are still tasks that it can peform better than any PC ever could, even if it is seven years old and severely showing its age. Maybe, just maybe mind you, I can have the two working in harmony with each other.

After all, if these guys can get back together, anything is possible...

Back again!

The video was a success!

A week later, I still find myself marvelling at how we managed to pull this off.

If you never have a chance to make your tough ol' grandfather cry, you should at least once in your life. While he may have complained about his 'damned allergies acting up' as he rubbed his eyes, it was quite a moment totally worth all the time and effort that the Family put in.

Totally worth it.

Three Weeks To Somewhere...

I'm heading to California in three weeks and one day for the celebration of my granddad's 90th. That gives me three weeks from today exactly to edit together the top secret present that I hinted about over six weeks ago when I was letting my brain embrace it's creative side with a story about itself talking amongst, uh, itself.

The Zuber Project, or simply "The Project" as I've been calling it during conversations of late, is progressing slowly. I really wish I could pick up the pace a bit, but I'm at least making strides in the right direction. I'm still waiting on material from most of the family, so hopefully that will trickle in during the next few business days.

It's amazing how a family can be so awesome to join together for great works such as these. While everyone is unarguably busy with their own lives, it really means a lot to know that the ties that brought us together still hold.