The news story is edited. see rriverstone radio for gorey details.
Well, it's as done as I can get it, anyway.
I've been squinting at that computer all night. Nice to be in here, with my big-type WebTV again!
Listening to that story, and the hour-long...was it half hour?..broadcast, I know, for a fact, that I can do radio. I just know it.
And I know I can write decent copy, too.
Panic attacks are normal. And I did exactly the right stuff to get over that last one: work to reduce the validity of the insecurities.
Everybody feels like a fake, like they don't know what they're doing. I'm normal. LOL
I have Dad's pic on top of the computer monitor: holding his Oscar for sound.
I was in the kitchen, putting dishes away, and suddenly wondered: "WOULD Dad be proud of me, working with audio?" He didn't want me to BE a sound engineer; he wanted me to MARRY one!
I have NO idea what he would think of me!
And that's because I really don't know what he thought of much of anything...especially about me....
It was nice, though, when my advisor came over. He asked, "who's this?"
"That's my dad, with his Oscar: the first ever given for sound in motion pictures. It's a Special Achievement Oscar for the invention of multitrack, stereo recording."
So, he sits up there, one tooth missing, holding his Oscar, while I squint at the computer.
My dad: who recorded Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, singing dirty lyrics to one of the songs from one of the Road to... movies. My dad, who started petting a real tiger, thinking it was a stunt guy, sneaking up behind him, trying to freak him out. My dad, who got a big bottle of Cutty Sark, shaped like a boat, with a plaque on it that read, "To Russ, Love Dot (aka Dorothy Lamore), drank the Scotch, and THREW OUT THE BOTTLE!
My dad: the Forest Gump of Hollywood in the 30s and 40s....always near greatness; never great.
We have a LOT in common! LOL
Well, at least I'm smiling. I come from a long line of doofuses....
No comments:
Post a Comment