Major Leagues

I've spent the last 18 hours on a knife edge. Filling in.
Called up from the late-career minor leagues.
When a co-worker had a family emergency, I have been filling in in a role I've not been in for a while.  In a room that is huge. For a client that has extremely high standards for their shows.

With no warning.

The phone rings.
My audio guy says "My dad is going to be dead by morning..." and he is obviously hyperventilating.
I grab a bottle of water and begin walking from backstage to where he is sitting.  I realize this is it...  I'm walking the green mile. This is a one way walk. I'm the only other guy in this town that knows the audio for this show. I'm going to be taking his place.
I stand with him for a minute, he gives me 2 minutes of briefing on how he has set up the system.  Then they grab him by the arm, put him in a cab and take him to the airport.  You see, we're a 5 hour flight from where he had to be. 
I used to frequently do gigs like this, but this client has risen our work standards to a level that is above me.  I spend more time managing than running shows. The guy who I have as our audio guy is very good.  Top notch. Today I'm a substandard tech-  luckily he spent 3 weeks designing a good system for this space. luckily he had time to get it running and tweaked out.  Because I have no freaking idea how to do it or where to start something this size.
I've been that A-list guy-  in a world that has now turned into a mural in the museum of production. I've had my moments.
Now I'm the epitome of 'jack of all trades, master of none' I know a stupid amount of stuff about a stupid amount of stuff. but can't put it together.
It's like knowing where all the pieces of the 3000 piece puzzle are located, what they are, what to do with them.  But being unable to put together more than a few pieces before losing focus.

But for one day, I got to play like a big boy again.

Thanks

Time for the obligatory end-of-the-year thanks and gratitude.
I like pie.
and I like my dog. 

I am thankful for Moncton.  And for sunny rainy days.

I'm grateful for things that are buried deep inside, never to be revealed.

This year has taught me more than a few lessons about things, and I'm relieved to say that I have survived more or less, and should be ready for more in just a few weeks.  Hope you're all ready for me to come out of the gate with a newly invigorated focus and intensity.  Enough of this calm, vanilla soft-serve.  I'm an iceberg, I'm a razor sharp pencil, this next couple years will be the simultaneous end of the beginning and beginning of the end. Finally.

Gnight John-boy.

11/11/11

Happy Nigel Tufnel day!

'Tis the loudest day of each century.

November 1

11-1-11
I suppose that the numerologist in me should be excited about this day, but it took me most of the day to realize how truly fantastic this date was.
In a few days, we'll have the Veterinarian's Day date debacle: 11/11/11.  I'll certainly be happier about that.
This year, I've been beat into submission to the point that most of the stuff I'm usually happy about is just forgotten in favor of apathy, grumpiness, sadness and stress.
Numbers I do like this year:
101
21
69
123
1

Numbers I hate this year
29
3
some others.

Happy eleventh month!
~P