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Wednesday, Oct. 24, 2001
According to the Guestbook, y'all are just as pleased with the new layout as I am ("Thank God! He finally put the screws to that orangey thing!"). All hail to Webchick, whose engineering on this continues to delight. Nice to work with a pro.

Last night, in the middle of depressing about lost trips to Nawlins to see a really good band with my far flung internet pals, I got a message that the show would be broadcast on a webcam - live. Now, whoo and hoo, this set in motion a chain of events worth a webcast in itself. The show was to start at 10 pm Central time, I got the message at 8 EST.

For those aware of my abilities with simple math, time zones alone might have proven my undoing.

So I hurredly called up the website at Tipitinas Resturant and sure enough, they sorta indicated that the Steely Damned (yeah, a tribute band to the real thing, but way good in their own right) were going to be webcast. Oh, I'm a regular fiend for organization when it comes to this sort of stuff. Checked to make sure the Media Player software was updated and working. Rushed to the den to fetch the lab-grade headphones (to the amusement of my wife and the girls, who have been through this scene before), worried over equalizer settings on Player, brought in a cooler full of libations and snacks, adjusted the chair and set up the orange cones around the computer area.

Danger - Outfoxed is in the bunker. Proceed with caution.

Ally, ever practical, noted "What time does this start? You know you don't do well with these late night affairs. This thing could go on for hours."

A little gleefully, I said "Yeah, I'm countin' on it. Last time I heard they ran 3 hours with no breaks, heh heh. 'Scuse me, gotta check the speed count on the DSL line". I was virtually cackling by this time.

I amused myself by watching Rosie Ledet and the Radiators on the archived webcast shows as a warmup. No problems, I was rocking away. Must be a funny thing, to view this from an outsiders perspective. Large lump in a chair, wearing headphones, playing air drums to a beat that nobody can hear but himself and watching a tiny picture on a computer screen. Hey, I'd be the one voting for medical treatment if it was somebody else. "Carry that loon outta here before he scares the kids."

The magic hour approached. If the show started at 10 pm Central time, must mean 11 pm back at the ranch. I'd worked that out all by myself.

Click. Download. "That file cannot be found, please check with the server."

Okay, so they're starting a bit late. New Orleans never starts on time, it's like a requirement down there.

Click. Download. Nada. This went on for (it can't be said I'm not persistant) an hour. Probably 50 attempts. All manner of desparate work-arounds. Checking and re-checking. Ally even stumbled out of bed and came downstairs when my shrieking got a bit out of hand. Like to scared me to death when she tapped me on the shoulder. Headphones, you know.

"What the hell's going on? Is the show over?"

*raving* "No, it bloody well isn't over! The bastards cut the camera! I can't get connected at all! Aieeeeeeeeeeee...!"

The upshot is that they really didn't webcast it, for whatever reason. I was one minute away from calling Tipitina's in New Orleans and raising hell. That would have been interesting (insert imagine of bored Creole waitress answering phone to hear wailing from 1,500 miles away).

It's a terrible thing, expectations. Today I'm only mildly exhausted, but completely defeated. Seeing this band perform has eluded me yet again.

As usual Ally got in the final word. "Well, it's not a total loss. Judging by that cooler and the mess in here, your appetite didn't suffer any."

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