At the BevNET LIVE conference last month, I had the unusual task of running around to our presenters with a cameraman at my back. I've done radio before, but never video - though it's arguable that I still haven't really done video. Out of all the clips, I barely appear for more than a few seconds, and, at that, it's only a sliver of my face.
That's very intentional on my part.
One of our design people did the editing and, altogether, I think it came out pretty well. YouTube made things look a little grainy, and the content is very focussed on teh beverage business, but here's a look at one of the 22 videos (so far) to come out of the day.
6/25/2009
Faking it to Omaha in Six Guns & Shootouts
Budding anthology "Six Guns and Shootouts" has announced my short story, "Faking it to Omaha" as part of its inaugural issue.
The story follows two out of work actors in the old west who decide to supplement their (flagging) acting careers by stealing a stage coach. It's a bad idea to start with, but gets worse when the actors unwittingly cross a real (and real mean) outlaw by the name of The Old Spelling Professor.
I'll post more details on the anthology as I get them.
The story follows two out of work actors in the old west who decide to supplement their (flagging) acting careers by stealing a stage coach. It's a bad idea to start with, but gets worse when the actors unwittingly cross a real (and real mean) outlaw by the name of The Old Spelling Professor.
I'll post more details on the anthology as I get them.
4/19/2006
I Feel Boring
Last semester I had stories every week. I talked to this person. I covered this story. This happened. All interesting things. The most interesting thing I can report lately is that I went to a concert on Friday. The concert was amazing--Bob Schneider is a tremendous performer and doesn't fail to surprise, but everyone goes to concerts. They're frequently good.
I can't even tell you something great or terrible happened in my social life recently. I don't have much of a social life at the moment. I go to class. I work. I go back to my room and either read or write.
Maybe it's senioritus. It's the end of my last year, and it's time to go. Or, maybe working at the Gazette last semester ruined me. I can't be a student any more. It feels too pointless.
Oh well. Not much else. I'll start the job search again soon. More updates when something interesting happens.
4/11/2006
Old Women and Computers
This woman has three tickets open, just from today. I think she must be retired. All I really know is that she thinks "turning on her computer" means connecting it to the internet, and error messages scare the hell out of her.
Here's the bad thing. She remembers my name. I'm screwed.
Here's the bad thing. She remembers my name. I'm screwed.
4/06/2006
Ice-Cream!
In the airport, on the way to Clemson South Carolina for the Club Nationals fencing tournament, we got a treat from a team mate. After we crossed through the gate, my team mates went to get breakfast. Kevin, a male sabreur like myself, went to McDonalds.
He came back with two hash browns and an ice cream. While spooning it into his mouth, he periodically stopped to stare straight ahead and say, like a small child "ice-cream."
I knew that Kevin had opted not to sleep the night before. We boarded the bus at 5am, meaning that most of us got up at 4am. Instead of trying to grab a few hours of sleep, Kevin decided to party and not sleep.
Now he finished his ice cream and moved on to his hash brown. He ate it, this time without the childish commentary. We that was gone, he said "oh no, my hash brown's gone." Then he dug into the crumpled paper bag from McDonalds.
"Hey, look," he said. "I have another one."
After he finished this, he pined for his ice cream, and returned to goo-goo-ing his snack's name. A moment later, he had an idea.
"Who wants ice cream?" he said. He took about 12 orders and dashed off.
What I had thought had been the product of sleep deprivation hadn't been. Kevin, as it turned out, was still drunk. He also smoked pot the night before, and the effects of that remained.
Now he wandered, drunk and stoned, through an airport terminal. Lots of bad things waited to happen, but they continued to wait. Despite his chemical induced state, Kevin succeeded in his ice-cream mission.
However, I would have loved to see the cashier's face when Kevin walked up and said "can I get a coke... and eleven ice creams?"
He came back with two hash browns and an ice cream. While spooning it into his mouth, he periodically stopped to stare straight ahead and say, like a small child "ice-cream."
I knew that Kevin had opted not to sleep the night before. We boarded the bus at 5am, meaning that most of us got up at 4am. Instead of trying to grab a few hours of sleep, Kevin decided to party and not sleep.
Now he finished his ice cream and moved on to his hash brown. He ate it, this time without the childish commentary. We that was gone, he said "oh no, my hash brown's gone." Then he dug into the crumpled paper bag from McDonalds.
"Hey, look," he said. "I have another one."
After he finished this, he pined for his ice cream, and returned to goo-goo-ing his snack's name. A moment later, he had an idea.
"Who wants ice cream?" he said. He took about 12 orders and dashed off.
What I had thought had been the product of sleep deprivation hadn't been. Kevin, as it turned out, was still drunk. He also smoked pot the night before, and the effects of that remained.
Now he wandered, drunk and stoned, through an airport terminal. Lots of bad things waited to happen, but they continued to wait. Despite his chemical induced state, Kevin succeeded in his ice-cream mission.
However, I would have loved to see the cashier's face when Kevin walked up and said "can I get a coke... and eleven ice creams?"
4/04/2006
Gold
We won the gold Medal for men's sabre squad. I could say more about it, but I'm tired. I didn't get back to my room until 4:30 this morning.
3/30/2006
Jill Carroll is Free
After three months, she's been released. If you're not familiar with the story, read it here.
While I'm sure lots of people are breathing a sigh of relief across the country, it's unusually intense for me and those in my major. Jill attended UMass Amherst, where I'll graduate from this year. She had the same professors and sat in the same classrooms, though a few years apart.
When I first heard about the story, something tightened inside me. I never intended to do war correspondence. My interests are much more domestic, but she made the dangers of my job clearer than ever. Sure, I won't wade through an international battle zone looking for interviews, but I will anger people.
I feel a little more comfortable now. She's home. She's safe, but I'm sure she's scarred. She'll never be the same. If she's lucky, she can write a memoir, fire it up the best-seller list and live out the rest of her life on the fortune she earns from it. Maybe she can return to newswriting, but I don't think she'll be able to do war reporting again. I know I wouldn't be able to.
While I'm sure lots of people are breathing a sigh of relief across the country, it's unusually intense for me and those in my major. Jill attended UMass Amherst, where I'll graduate from this year. She had the same professors and sat in the same classrooms, though a few years apart.
When I first heard about the story, something tightened inside me. I never intended to do war correspondence. My interests are much more domestic, but she made the dangers of my job clearer than ever. Sure, I won't wade through an international battle zone looking for interviews, but I will anger people.
I feel a little more comfortable now. She's home. She's safe, but I'm sure she's scarred. She'll never be the same. If she's lucky, she can write a memoir, fire it up the best-seller list and live out the rest of her life on the fortune she earns from it. Maybe she can return to newswriting, but I don't think she'll be able to do war reporting again. I know I wouldn't be able to.
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