Let me start by saying, that if you ever get the chance to receive a pep talk from Stephanie Yuhas, I highly recommend it. I am one of those people that constantly thinks they’re in trouble, this feeling is magnified whenever things are going right. I still think about that time in Kindergarden, when Leo Muhme and I ran down the hall to get milk for our class, instead of walking like we were told to. When we returned, Ms. Kenard asked us if we had ran.
The season 2 finale of VCoT is rendered and complete and handed over to the proper authorities (Cinevore). This episode ended up being more of a challenge than I originally thought it would be, and it all boiled down to planning and integration of formats. As I explained to Chris Potako, I’ve not been formally trained in animation or making videos. Before I was doing this, I was writing and performing in plays. In order for me to make things I just banged to rocks together until the program did what I wanted it to do.
My wife’s birthday was this weekend and one of her favorite Disney films is Tarzan. When I presented her with a DVD of the film, it donned on me that I had never seen it. “Can we watch it tonight?” She asked. “Of course. I was counting on it.” I answered. Then her face lowered and she spoke in a less excited, more..adult tone. “It’s not the best Disney movie ever.” “Okay.” I said. “I mean, it’s not even really in my top five.” She continued. “There’s just something about it that I really like.” Immediately I understood what she was talking about.
I have ideas.
My Facebook has turned into a wilderness of horrors, so much so that I’m thinking about giving it up entirely. The only real reason that I stick with it is to stay in contact with Nerd Reactor folks and to keep people updated about Rob Walker Films. My Cinevore colleagues are contacted primarily through email. However, since Facebook is hewing to the “information-is-power” business model, I’m not really sure many people are engaging with RWF or Victorian Cut-out Theatre through Facebook anyway.
I’ve never considered my self a “handy” person, despite the fact that I have spent a great deal of my life in the throws of manual labor. This has not been by choice I can assure you. I can still remember the day my father told me I would be going to work with him. It was the end of my 6th grade year and we were out to dinner. “You’ll be going to work with me this summer.” He said. “What? As a plumber?” I said. “A plumber’s helper.” He replied.
If you’ve been reading this blog, or have at least watched the most recent episode of Walker’s Talkers, then you know that I have been ill. While I am feeling much better now, there was a period where I was convinced that I was about to change into my “final form”. A hybrid Brundle-fly like creature, more proboscis than man. Fortunately or unfortunately, I haven’t transformed into anything new, I just look like a man who is exhausted from not sleeping for several days, which makes more evolutionary sense.
This is going to make me sound like a weirdo, but I find the body aches and fever kind of relaxing while I’m ill. I’m kind of a tightly wound person, so when I become the brand of sick where I can’t do anything but lie down, its almost like a vacation. More’s the better if I become so shackled to the bed with fever and sweats that my mind starts to eat itself. There are people the world over that pay money for that kind of sensation, and occasionally, I get it for free. Nothing compares to that eldritch dread the sneaks up on you when you’re that sick.
I awoke this morning at 4:45 to what sounded like someone rewinding a video tape at full volume outside my window. I don’t know if it was squirrels, a pigeon protecting her young, or the swinging sounds of an amateur DJ. Regardless, I’m up and performing my morning ritual of trying to keep my cat off of my keyboard while I type this. My haggard appearance is of no bother to his satin-black face and gold-ringed eyes. He just wants to cuddle, and if he can keep me from my current task, more’s the better.
In my darker and more desperate moments I contemplate doing pornography. Not acting in it of course, but writing and directing. I already have a great adult film name picked out. Whitey Bulger. You know, after the famous Boston gangster*. Choosing that name might explain why my ideas have trouble catching on. I have yet to come up with a concept that I didn’t have to explain as majority of listeners stare at me dead-eyed. Anyway, I could never do it, because I don’t know how I would tell people about work without lying or staring at the floor and shuffling my feet.