hidden hit counter Late Harvest: Finished, more or less

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Finished, more or less

On the plane from Vancouver to Toronto, watching the fantastic four. they are not so fantastic but as airplane entertainment goes they are more or less par for the course. To make the situation even better, it sounds like victor von doom is messing with the audio feed on this plane.

Somebody just let rip with a truly rank fart as I was drinking my water. Travelling is great but flying is starting to suck. On the way here I had 2 executive class upgrade certificates, which don't say anything about having to upgrade from full fare only... but the lady behind the desk looked at me like I was a turd when I slapped them down on the table.

"Sorry sir," she said, not looking like she believed I was much of a sir at all, "you would have to pay full fare to upgrade."

"How much would that be?" I asked.

"Oh..." she tapped on the keyboard. "Full fare would be $1260 one way."

Right. So this guy next to me, he maybe paid four times what I did to sit there?

...there's that fart again...

Anyway, I feel good after only two hours of sleep this afternoon. The capture problem was as follows:
- journalling was turned on in the two new LaCie drives
- at two points, we had to do a hard restart on the edit suite because of some kind of hardware or software crash. Another time Jason was walking behind the suite and unplugged everything.

On one of these occasions, the journal on that drive was corrupted and it restored itself to the same state it was in Friday before I got here.

As soon as I get home, journalling will be turned OFF on all our drives. And Apple said that journalling just caused "performance issues." Total unrecoverable data corruption is a pretty big performance issue.

Anyway, I finished almost all the captures this morning at 10am, thanks to the good graces and the utter busy-ness of the folks at Image Pacific.

What the hell is up with the electronics infomercials on the plane? Come on, Dave Chalk. Stop pretending to be a journalist and just admit you're a cheerleader for those advertisers paying you to review their products. "Dance monkey, dance!"

$2600 or $600, you still have to breath fart. Where's my Gulfstream?

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