Crazy

I am going crazy. Watching all this footage and not getting enough exercise. Just cooped up, working, but motionless. At least there are thunderstorms tonight to break up the doldrums. And break the awful heat and humidity we've had the last week.

On Friday evening I will be going to Maine with my family. Looking forward to that, but a lot of work to be done in the mean time. Watching more friggin' videos. Sooo tired of it.

I'm about to...

figure out how to download pics from my camera, which I've been meaning to do. Mostly of my trip to London. Unfortunately I think it may just be a simple matter of connecting a cord that I do not possess.

I will try, though, today and, if successful, I will post some pics in just a wee bit.

In the mean time, my life is flashing before my eyes. Or rather, my family's life. I have been going thru a daily grind of watching old home videos all summer. I then write down the timecode whenever something vaguely interesting or revealing happens. Sometimes this is frequent; sometimes it is not. My Dad has taken roughly 150 hours of footage over the years, on various formats, and sometimes he really takes advantage of the fact that videotape is cheap. Hours of the mostly unvarying South Dakota countryside on a trip out west, long stretches of close-ups of 19th century architecture or antique furniture. This is what he apparently felt would be interesting to subsequent generations.

"This is how they lived," think the people 500 years from now, "they studied previous generations just like us."

Or maybe... "Wow, in the old days they didn't have people-- only buildings and furniture."

Anyway, so far I am up to 1995, still a long way to go before I can start editing all this into a documentary. Whew.

Are you still there?

After weeks of checking in hopes that maybe Roger has posted something new, only to be repeatedly disappointed, just when you are about to give up on him, he goes and posts this wonderful post. You just can't help but forgive him. You can't.

Life continues here on the east coast. I played softball today with my brother in this pick-up game of locals that happens every Sunday evening from Memorial Day to Labor Day. It was so much fun. I made some errors at shortstop, but I also never got out when I was batting. Most of that, of course, is due to the fact that I hit a lot of ground balls towards the secondbaseman, a position usually played by the less coordinated players. So here's to you, clumsy slow-footed secondbaseman. Your mediocrity canceled out mine.

Meanwhile my parents are now both sick and barfing. Must be something going around. I hope I don't get it. Knock wood (and then wash my knuckles thoroughly).

The documentary of my family I've been working on came to a halt this past week because (1) my dad's video equipment broke and I had to wait for the "new" stuff I bought on Ebay to arrive and (2) I took a trip to Chicago. The past few days I have been back on track. Still a lot of footage to log though.

The trip to Chicago was great. On Sunday I hosted a roast for my friend Jonathan who is leaving Chicago for Maine. Very fun but bittersweet. So good to see all my Chicago friends, and everyone was funny and spoke from the heart, but it was sad to see Jonathan so brokenhearted. I know how he feels. My old theatre company, Barrel of Monkeys, is comprised of an amazing group of people and it hurt like hell to leave. Monday I saw BoM's Monday night show and went out for drinks after. Tuesday I had an audition and then walked around downtown Chicago by myself, went to the Art Institute and Millenium Park. What an amazing city. I miss it.

Okay, signing off. I really will try not to be such a stranger. Please keep me in your rotation of blogs to check. I'll be good.