In case you were not aware of how spiffy I am, here is a list of my credentials:
- I have been running sound at my church for about twenty years
- I have a degree in New Technologies in Mass Media from the University of Washington
- I still have two VCRs
- Since I was young, I have been seeking out stories in broadcast media. Everything from Golden Age of Radio broadcasts to NPR podcasts to movies to comic books to television; I have invested time in all of them.
- I have operated several brands of LCD projectors
- I have spent a decade and a half running an IMAX film projector (the fifteenth one installed in the world), and a digital 3D IMAX dual-projector system
- I have A/V teched many a guest speaker and ceremony
- I have videotaped weddings, talent shows, and sermons
- I have edited numerous shorts for work and for fun and gotten them to work just fine on YouTube
- I spent three years volunteering my broadcasting services for a local library by creating, editing, and tweaking a weekly hour-long broadcast.
With all of this knowledge and experience, you would think I would know what I was doing.
Yet, there I was, sitting with a cassette tape from the 90’s. You know what? Sometimes a big nerd wants to listen to his old tape of Superman Lives. (This one, not the Kevin SMith, Cage, almost-movie.) It is like a show from the 50’s but with Lex Luthor and Doomsday. What is there to not love?
Well, the lack of success for one.
I put the tape in the stereo. Nothing happened. I took the cassette out, looked at it, and put it back in. I tried rewinding and fast-forwarding. Nothing. I futzed with the volume to see if I simply was not hearing something. No sound. I toggled the switch between CD, tape, and radio. No joy. I tried resting the power switch in between the space that might have been a gap nestling near the three settings. Houston, we still had a problem.
Then, with all my years of wisdom and expertise, I finally came across the monkey wrench in the system.
The stereo was unplugged.
Yep, I am a complete idiot. But at least I have a piece of paper that will prove that it cost thousands of dollars to achieve this sort of professional stupidity.
You would think I would have these things all figured out. But then you, much like my attempts to fix that which was not broken, would have gone horribly awry.