February 20th, 2014


Time Is Relative

The weather is really unsettled today. It's raining and there's some fog out there. Our driveway is likely to be interesting -- the mat isn't very deep but soaked and above freezing it may turn to mush. That would be frozen rutted mush by tomorrow. Snowed horizontally earlier today.

Worried about the roads and water, I decided to phone it in today. I have great confidence in my winter driving, less for the idiots -- and certain that if I had to walk to get out of a slide off it might be impossible. And I'm not supposed to get my rehealing left heel wet.

I spent all day working on my class. Well, not quite, but most of it. And by the numbers, it's interesting.

An hour class isn't an hour, but fifty minutes. Minus some start and finish time, which includes lighting and camera adjustments. As before, I created MP3 files of the lecture material. The two files ended up as 13:28 and 10:03. 23½ minutes out of 50? Where does that time go? Well, for one, I was writing on the back of notepaper. Like the blackboard, one has to write and describe aloud what I'm writing even on the pad, then I have to hold it up to the camera so students can copy into their notes.

(Road Report from Mrs. Dr. Phil -- Just wet and miserable outside. 37°F. As I hoped, the driveway is thin enough that mush wasn't an out side yet. I guess I have to say I have been impressed with the orderliness of the melt the last two days. So there's hope.)

So the 23½ minutes of audio doesn't include the built-in dead time. But it's not like it takes 23½ minutes to record 23½ minutes of audio, either. Besides the time to set up and breakdown the Blue Snowball microphone, the files are recorded in chunks. I then need to listen through the whole thing and edit as necessary. Then it takes about five minutes each to render the MP3s. Takes time to upload, etc.

In the middle of all this, of course, software was insisting it needed to be updated. Sigh.

Oh, and recently pitchers and catchers reported to Spring Training, which is the first official sign of spring -- screw that no good groundhog.

Dr. Phil