Late last night, I decided to reintroduce myself to some of the minor technology that has piled up in our well-appointed apartments here in the West Wing of Marlinspike Hall. Won't bore you with long stories about Best Buy, UPS, Amazon... but will divulge that they did not come off as brilliant marketers over the holidays.
I had trouble sleeping so I loaded and tweaked and played with a new mp3 player that will hold more than the 6 songs my last one managed. I did the tweaking and playing part of that in the soft swinging hammock of the velvety dark -- and was repeatedly attacked by one Buddy, the outrageously large kitten, our Maine Coon. He's undergoing yet another growth spurt and that means, too, a certain recidivism in his behaviors, mostly chewing -- wires, anything plastic, doors, canes, wheelchair wheels. I got him settled down, eventually, by doing what he cannot resist -- toy with his elastic ears. Pulling them, scratching them, praising their magnificence. I set the player to a 60-minute sleep mode, blew all the tension out of my body via my mouth, and let my mind go with the music.
The little faker. Five minutes into my relaxation, KABOOM. Imagine Buddy landing on your chest, claws clawing, vocalizing like a feline maniac, going after those noisy little wires, yanking the earbuds from your aural cavity with fierce violence.
He's fascinated with music. Or noise. Fred bought an old spinet piano several weeks ago, and Buddy lurks as Fred pecks at the newly tuned keys, looking over his shoulder, trying to find a way inside (what is a piano, after all, but a big box?). He walks on the keys, jumping straight in the air sometimes at the sound he himself produced.
Yeah, so another piece of electronics that mocks me is the video camera, I loved my little Flip thingy, but I also dropped it into a sink full of hot soapy water. The new one, refurbished, is a mainstream model, meaning: it's not for me! I can't get my hands to find one ergonomic boon in the design of the thing.
So, of course, we decide we're gonna make a movie of Buddy and the Piano. I dug through piles of buzzing, whirring electronic gadgets, found the camcorder, and did a test shot of the Maine Coon flexing his paws and claws in preparation for a Beethoven piece he's been practicing.
Then, of course, as we proceeded in solemn cortège to the funky spinet piano (for which Fred has yet to purchase a bench), and Fred began a rousing version of Oh My Darling Clementine while the cat lolled on the cat tree just behind Fred's right shoulder. Buddy mostly stared (glumly, very glumly) at me and the stupid camera.
The stupid camera's battery died.
Okay, fine. So this morning, after the Night of MP3 Battles, I figured I would get the now properly charged camera out for some practice. It requires too much of my hands but practice can occasionally improve performance, I hear.
But I only produced nonsense. So, of course, I am posting it, with these caveats:
1. I know my house is a mess, so hush;
2. No, I do not abuse Miss Marmy Fluffybutt, I don't care what she tells the SPCA;
3. I know my filming skills suck, thankyouverymuch (see aphorism about "practice" above)
4. Fred was worshiping with the Militant Lesbian Existential Feminists;
5. Yes, I know my feet and hands don't "look right." I have CRPS, you ninny;
6. I'm really sorry for posting junk... but I am bored and the only other things to do right now are dishes, laundry, and vacuuming;
7. Ignore the raspy voiced narrator, she is an idiot.
Oh, and I promise not to encourage Buddy in his interest in the microwave.
okay, so this video is even worse than i imagined... also, i forgot that youtube won't accept (from me, at present) vids longer than 10 minutes. so you missed the update of my feet. have no fear, we'll capture some beauty shots of those things at the end of my legs.