This probably won't be a very long post today. I've spent all morning trying to make a video. Lots of problems. Mostly, I can't find all the files. Then, I find I've forgotten everything I learned this year about using Premiere Pro to edit them. I think they have changed the interface once again, but probably not. I also had to come up with a photo for the day. If it looks weird, it is probably because it is a black and white photograph. Was. I colorized it. That took a bit of time, too. Was it worth it? Well, no. . . but I haven't been out taking pictures of the season the way I should. So this is what we get. This and a Christmas video that isn't exactly what I wanted because I couldn't find all the files. There may be another one if I do.
But I have to hurry here. I am having lunch in the factory town with my former secretary, my old college roommate and his wife, both of whom worked at the factory, the wife in my "division," and two other colleagues. I have things to do before then, and we are to meet at noon.
Yesterday, I met C.C. for lunch. It was a nice day so we sat outside. I wore shorts, flip-flops, and a t-shirt, of course. But we sat under cover and a cool breeze blew through the veranda the entire time. I brought a light hoodie, but it wasn't enough to keep me from shivering. For 3.5 hours. Yup. C.C. and I had a lot of catching up to do. He was traveling for months and now is working in a long running play. So we sat and drank and ate and made one another laugh without realizing the passing of time. And when we looked, it was four o'clock. WTF? How?
When we stood up to go to our cars, however, my knee was locked. It has been good, but I could hardly straighten it. And then I limped. . . painfully.
"Ow. . . ow. . . ouch!" I squealed, step by step. "This sure makes me attractive. All I need is a nurse."
And that, by and large, was my day. I guess I can't sit in one position that long now. I'll keep that in mind today, though lunch will not be nearly as long. And, for the first time in forever, I will wear long pants, shoes, and a sweater. If I can find them.
I called my mother when I left the restaurant and told her I wouldn't be over before it was time for her to go caroling with the neighbors. I didn't want to get there and be caught up in that. The last time I got roped into caroling, it was in Grit City. The group was serious, had pitch pipes and knew all the song lyrics. I stood in the back and kind of hummed.
"God rest ye merry gentlemen, hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm."
We'd go from house to house, but nobody came out.
"What's up with that," I asked.
"It's Thursday. A.A. meeting."
I fell out laughing. It had the ring of truth. Grit City is nothing but bars and drunks.
Yesterday was a bleu cheeseburger with fries. Today will probably be something like a French dip. I'm getting BIG for Christmas.
Jesus. . . I just got a text from my beautician. Apparently she thinks we have an appointment today. When I told her I couldn't, she said it was o.k. because she was VERY pregnant. Oy! I'm worried, really. Oh. . . she'll be fine, but what about ME! Who will beautify me?
I'm not really that selfish. O.K. Not really. Sure. . . some.
I already sent this video out to some friends this morning. There are things they note.
"Good thing you show the tree!"
"My father never put my mother or I in the films much. Most of the movies are of things. I asked him about that once, and he said, 'What? Why? I see you everyday!'"
You can see how hillbilly we were by the decor. Look at that t.v. Glorious black and white. When it would quit working, my father would pull the tubes out of the back and take them to the testing station at the 7-11. Those were brand new. Nobody could believe that a store was open until 11 p.m. If you realized you needed eggs or milk for the morning. . . . And there were nights when replacing a tube let us watch our favorite shows that night.
Of course, there is nothing a young boy wants more than a wrist watch. Ha! But look at all the other presents to be opened. I was an only child. My Christmas was much different than all the cracker families around the 'hood. I was spoiled, as they used to say. Rotten.
"Like socks?"
"Yea, and underwear."
I didn't want to make my friend feel bad. I know that is how his Christmas went. But. . . I know my mother will get me something akin to that this year.
If I can find the digitized files. . . there may be more. But for now. . . I gotta fly.
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