Been a while since I posted. Afterhell is keeping me busy.
For those I haven’t kept in the loop, I decided to make the big plunge and get a MacBook to do my own sound editing. I try not to talk about it much. I don’t want the grief that comes with the user interface wars. I don’t want to hear about how great it is that I’m “leaving the Dark Side” or “making the big switch.” If I wanted to hear that kind of crap, I’d hang out with neocons.
Meanwhile, for the last week or so, one thought has been haunting me, for want of a better word. Nothing critical, nothing earth-shattering or cosmically important. Just a memory.
An episode of the new Battlestar Galactica series brought it back for me. It’s been a few weeks, so I figured it’s fairly safe to mention it now.
At one point, Starbuck flashbacks on the day she told her mother that she’d become an officer. Proud, quiet moment. She’s the first in her family to do it. She was in the top five of her class (or something to that effect.)
Then her mother says, “Why weren’t you number one?” Starbuck’s face just collapses. Crushed. Confused.
My father once did the same thing to me.
Hard to believe. After all these years, I’m still going down in flames.