4.257 video, writers, care

Tuesday 08/15/2023

Did the gym machine round. Then I spent some time, and more in the afternoon, starting work on the video for the Hoedown event coming up. I want to have a fixed picture of old barn doors between each song. Then when it is time to start the song, the barn doors split along with a rolling-door-sound effect, and the video starts. At the end of the video, there is that sound and the doors close over the video.

I did some tricky stuff with iMovie to create this effect, and got it pretty much right. Then I put together the first two videos, with the barn-door transition between them. (The Carter family singing “Hearts of stone” followed by John Denver “Take Me Home Country Roads”. Hey, I didn’t choose the program.) It’s looking good and I feel good about it.

Then the writers meeting, with the cue “An automobile”. For once I was early, finishing on Monday, instead of writing something at 10am for the 10:45 meeting. I’ll put what I wrote at the end here.

At 4pm it was time for the 4th in the CH lecture series on levels of care. This one was specifically about the process that happens if/when somebody needs to move from independent living to a higher level of care. If found this discussion profoundly depressing. They have to think about and be alert to all the various ways a person can lose it — dementia, stroke, general inability to get around. Over supper with Susan P and the David and Helen, we all agreed that it is very sad to contemplate the fucking inevitability of this. Susan wanted to know if there were any actuarial numbers to say, “what’s the chance I’ll die in IL before I have to transfer?” Which is definitely preferable. David G. was sure those numbers exist because Channing House’s entire business model rests on predicting how long a person is likely to stay at each level.


One thought on “4.257 video, writers, care

  1. You used This car to drive Clarence Esters, and perhaps Lance Myers, down to my home in Mountain View. You pointed the spotlight all around my house, as though the police had finally found me. Do you remember this?

    Like

Leave a reply to Scott Cancel reply