Random Robot of the Day

I call him the Reverent Biter.

The Education of an Amateur (read: ignorant) Sound recorder

There are a lot of sounds where I live. That is to say, it's a place far from all the bothersome sounds that cloud our day-to-day life. For beneath all the traffic, all the airplanes flying overhead, and the construction clanking away, there is quite a lot out there worth hearing.

My audiophilia was born, like so many other magical things, at Disney World. In MGM, as children rushed me (because I was unknowingly blocking Lightning McQueen) I noticed a relative of mine was gallivanting around with gadgets that were clearly better than mine. This was hard for me to believe, as I was sporting an Apple Newton that laughed in the face of more modern devices. Shamefully out-dated PDA in hand, one is forced to ask what bejeweled item could put it to shame and summon such jealousy?! It wasn't like the multipurpose, but scarcely useful, devices most of us carry. Plainly put, his gadget had a singular, determined ambition. It also met all the requirements of a worthwhile gadget: Shiny buttons, an overly technical display speckled with cryptic icon's, several curious plugs and ports, a happy little slot for storage media, and most importantly, a comforting blue glow. Meeeeow. Additionally, it complemented it's user with the demeanor of a skilled official...and he was using it to make money. None of my Gadgets made me money! They cost money, sure – but that’s hardly the same thing. In fact, I'm fairly certain it’s the opposite thing.

We would walk around Disney, and he (my second cousin's husband, which I think makes him my alternate for duels) would randomly hold out this small, Tricorder like device. It was about the size of a Digital Audio Recorder. 'Whassat?' I asked, clutching desperately to my newton, which felt like it had aged another 10 years in those few seconds. 'Digital audio recorder' he answered quietly, barely acknowledging me. When he was done having his recordings ruined by my idiotic questions, he explained further. He uses his high-end sound recorder to maintain his own audio library, from which people can buy the sound clips, and then he gets the aforementioned money. "So this," He said, motioning towards the noisy park he had just finished recording, "I would just label as 'amusement park chatter'." I barely comprehended a word he had said, because my eye's were quickly glazing over like Krispy Kreme's, and I hiccupped out a small, dreamy laugh. It was possibly the coolest concept I had ever heard of. But I didn't fully buy into it until he said "People buy these sounds for movies or music or whatever. Some sounds more sought after than others, like wind...good wind sounds tend to be valued." Wind sounds? I live on a freakin' mountain! All I hear is wind! I pretty much sit on the porch and shake my fist at the noisy, inconsiderate wind. Slow down! This is a neighborhood, ya know!

Getting started on my profitable sound library immediately became my passion. For about two weeks. Then something else was my passion. I can’t tell you what that passion was, all I can say is that the words 'Coed' and 'Naked' were involved. After the lawsuit and consequent closing of my t-shirt business, recording became my passion again.

But where to start? Where all great passions start – by purchasing the proper gadget...until you find out the proper gadget costs way more than you can possibly rationalize. The digital audio player that had whet my appetite was freakishly cool, and endowed with an extensive list of features that i imagine would be very impressive if i had any clue what i was doing. But it also cost around three bills, and while there was a time when i would clap my hands like a like a giddy Victorian schoolboy and count myself lucky that the price was so low, I can no longer live like that. The bank wont let me. My first pang of amateurism rattled my gut. Not only was first choice beyond my willing price range, all its brother's and sister's were more expensive. Clearly, if i was shocked by the sticker price...maybe i should find a new hobby. I felt as if a group of oily-haired car salesmen were laughing at me for asking how much that thar Porsche was.

But, this unexpected turn only served to further entice my lifelong passion to be a recorderer! Thus I found myself googling my own brain pan, taking all I knew of audio recording (the knowledge I did have was thorough, but little more than stored data and never directly applied to reality) so my dream of becoming a sound-recordering-guy could finally come true.

I found a solution, and just as I had assumed, it was in my brain all along. How did my dream come true for a mere $70? That's another post, for another day.