The Daily 750









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Getting in Touch With My Inner Gambler

Friday, December 16, 2005

One of the first things I remember Josh writing about himself is that he was known locally as "the DA DJ" because he had a Thursday jazz program on our local community radio station, and it was pure serendipity, like everything associated with our meeting and our rockin' good lives separately and together ever since, that I was able to enroll in the on-air training session that began 10 days afer I moved to the Upper Left Edge. Giving me a decent sized patch of dirt and a radio station to play in has been like giving sniffing salts to the swooned. Oh! Hello! I'm awake now! Yes, yes, YES!

A few weeks ago I volunteered to be the webmaster for the station and wouldn't ya know it, they said yes. They'd contracted with Public Interactive for a full-on web-streaming, podcasting, news, arts, events, searchable playlists wowzer website to debut January 1st, and hadn't made much progress. Should I tell you about the FOUR ENTIRE DAYS I spent, first in design software and then moving semi-colons and <>'s around the PI modules, trying to create one arty mouse-over button? And that the day afer I figured it out I decided I didn't want to use it?

But it was a breakthrough discovery: the PI modules are JUST FINE and offer all the flexibility we need to differentiate ourselves from the pack. I'd been in a wrestling match with myself.

That was Tuesday and since then I've been in the groove. Click click, design, upload, click click click click, search, save, design, upload, click click click click click. Web design combines all the blissful tedium of stamping envelopes with the logic of solving mathematical equations to produce a sort of art. It's painting by numbers.

And except for the booze, the garish carpet, the flashing lights, the oversized chandeliers and the incessant noise, it's just like sitting at a Vegas slot machine for hours and hours, staring at the screen, clicking and clicking, hoping this time you'll like the result, getting up two hours after your arm has gone numb and your eyes have gone all googly, moaning about the ache in your back and the hole in your wallet -- and anxious to get right back to it as soon as you can.