It's been a bitch of a week (bear with me here, a few things have happened.)
My 2nd machine has been having problems. I thought the harddrive was frying. This is my 'workhorse' that is busy doing stuff while I use this machine for recording & other odds & ends, but kept all my main programs like Photoshop and all that on the old machine (the 2nd). On the eve of getting a new harddrive to back everything up, the machine goes kerplunk. I was able to get the harddrive to boot up every now and then, but not for long peroids.

Jeff got here to take a look at it. Once it finally booted after 30 attempts, the inital screen was the DOS error screen, but it did something I've never seen before: a ton of lines started running through it, it started doing all these weird things and Jeff just said, "That's not the harddrive. You're motherboard is toast."
The real bitch is, this is an ooooold Gateway 8 bay tower from '98. They don't make motherboards to fit these anymore, and the two we had, well the first one I got was DOA. This one was fine. Now, I am down to one machine.

Then, I find out that my new machine doesn't have a 'different sound card' but had the on-board soundcard that is junk! So, this whole time I am getting funky digital noise in recordings I can't get rid of, and am fighting to get decent sound. So, Jeff had an old computer with a barely used Audigy soundcard and recording interface and installed it. The sound is 110 times better than before, and the programs I got from BrewJr that wouldn't work right now work, and I have direct MIDI inputs along with other digital and analog inputs... but have to re-record everything I have done for the film soundtrack, and have 2 days to finish the acoustic version of "I Wake Up Screaming."

Now, this is why I am having to start over so late, instead of when I should have. I went to Jeff's house to get some cables and an expression pedal for my keyboard. He was complaining all day that he felt like he had a bunch of pressure in his chest. I asked him how much pressure and he pushed his hand into my chest, almost knocking me off of my feet. I was immediately freaked out, and quizzed him a bit. He said he didn't have any pain or anything, no weird feeling in his arm and I told him, "You don't have to have all of the symptoms for it to be a possible heart attack." and so, not being bull-headed, he went into the ER and was admitted overnight.

Apparently, it wasn't a heart attack. However, when given nitro tabs, it made the pressure ease up. He had his laptop at the hospital and later that night I chatted with him and he said he had more pressure build up but took another tab and was fine. So, he goes monday for a stress test and, being a pretty hefty guy, I'm more than a bit worried about him. He has been working his ass off, sometimes through til late night when he works from home, and hasn't been getting enough sleep. To compensate, he does the energy drinks and those 5 Hour Energy shots to keep him going. I quit smoking for awhile, and he was the person I was accountable to (and man, convention was not good for me to be around so many chainsmokers, I was backslid before I walked in the door!) and at the same time, I've been onto him about the sleep deprivation (which I know the side effects of all too well as far as the body not getting restorative rejuvenation) combined with the energy drinks. He did just recently start changing his diet, but I'm worried since today on the phone he sounded really tired and said he wasn't feeling good and had some pressure again.

I am HOPING that it isn't something serious but if it is, that they're catching it in time to do something about it. He has been one of my biggest supporters with the CH I've ever had, including holding me back from beating my head into a tree during a Kip 10, and also helping fight for my oxygen which isn't covered, and Praxair is raping me for o2. We've got it down to $100 a month unlimited supply, but I still have a 1'500 bill from before we got it lowered.
In other words, he has seen me at the absolute worst, and it hasn't scared him off one bit. He's been there for me through alot and those who met him at the convention will tell you he is a helluva nice guy to talk to.
So, if any of y'all that believe in prayer could, send one up for him that this test comes back ok and if not, that they can fix him up easy enough.

I get to spend the next 3 days burning the candle at both ends myself with recording and what is a bit puzzling to me is... with all of the stress I've been under lately (last nights show was pure madness with more people in the studio room than ever and I thought my brain would melt trying to keep up with everything on just one machine)...  what's puzzling me is - I should be getting hit left and right, but am going days between attacks. I won't let it puzzle me too much since I know I'll just start getting slammed later, I'm just glad they've eased up and am enjoying light hits while they last.

On a funny note, I'm not a doctor, but will be shooting my scenes for "Zombie Epidemic" next monday as Dr Herald Brockhouse, a scientist trying to control zombies by microchip through the area of the brain that keeps them functioning and.... after having a beard over a year now I just have a thinned out goatee, thin moustache and am clean shaven bald, add white coat, glasses and look the part.
What's funny is I'm not sure which I am most excited about; getting a part in a zombie movie, or doing the soundtrack and possibly breaking into a new career in music doing movie scores. There is a demand for composers right now, and it is good money. And with my given situation, I'd be better off working 'behind the scenes' - as long as I am getting paid! 

Again, if you guys would, keep Jeff in your thoughts & prayers.

Peace,
Carl

Jeff is in my thoughts and prayers, Carl, as are you, because I know he's a close friend.

You got it Carl..........and let us know how it turns out.

For both of you bro'...for BOTH of you...

Best,

Jon

I'll be praying for him too Carl.

    Quote:



Good thing he isn't a clusterhead, or he'd be writhing in pain for sure.

My vibes to Jeff, too, Carl.  Sometimes a small piece of any plaque can come loose off the side of the blood system and float up toward the heart and create a small blockage.  A friend had that pressure like Jeff mentioned and has been doing fine since it happened, driving himself to the ER about '93, afterward carrying nitro with him all the time, which apparently can make the pressure ease up awhile if it happens again until proper attention is administered .  I just mention this because of certain other similarities, also.



Wish it was even less often than days between hits.   Hoping better.

You seem to know more about what's been happening with your legs.  It's been since at least 2004 that I remember it being a concerning mystery.  Keep at the phys therapy.





Quote:


Carl.  You were a prodigy of neurology who was taking on the challenge of cluster headaches, also a sufferer who's losing his genius to madness, and world's leading expert on the hypothalamus who has also gone a little overboard in private experiments, blacklisted with your very unapproved methods.  Devising a microchip based on originally composed musical sounds for the hypothalamus in an attempt to cure clusters (which of course frustratingly didn't work   ), you came upon a method of controlling the brain through the hypothalamus and continued experimenting on freshly buried bodies in the night from tunnels dug underneath an expansive cemetery.  With further original psychotic music, a combination is discovered that resurrects a zombie-like functioning back to their bodies.  

It gets out of control, the zombies also have the ability to emit the sound waves awakening other dead bodies.  In effect, no one knows, but you created the Zombie Epidemic.

It turns out, all the zombies are loyal to only you and you're able to direct them through your originally composed secret music only they can hear programmed into their chips.  Your madness takes a leap, controlling the world with them is realized by your deranged mind.  
 
There is little hope for the world as zombies appear worldwide, connected by your musical waves only they can hear.  With many reservations about your ostracized skills and out of options, the unsuspecting world unwittingly turns to you for your expert help in the matter.

Pretending to grudgingly help, you offer your services as the world pleads (you have been unappreciated by the scientific community, payback time, work in a bit of an evil power-trip personality   ).   In reality, your plans are for only furthering your world-conquering vision.  By your directing the zombies, key research facilities are taken over, nothing can stop you from creating more elaborate music and chips for superhuman zombies.

But an unforeseen flaw in the chip comes weeks later, they malfunction when you take a step too far, the new music you've programmed in explodes the zombie heads.  In a reversal of fortune, the world is saved, but your scheme revealed.  When they come to capture you for a padded room, piles of zombies with exploded heads are strewn around your private grounds, one has your clothes on, but...  Meanwhile, you've escaped through a very secret tunnel dug under a cemetery.   Your fingers clawing up through surface dirt weeks later, vowing to once again resurrect your zombie empire.

Sequel!  




eh, just a thought.

Jeff wnet today for his stress test, and gets the results tomorrow. Depending on the outcome, they may or may not do additional testing. However, he is doing better and right now I am hounding him to leave the energy drinks & 5 Hour energy shots ALONE!

I'm getting ready to leave now to shoot my scenes for the movie. The part turned into a bigger one than originally written, but I am just amped on it.
(Okay, slightly unamped since I have been sick most of the day and felt like I'd puke if I moved. A little better now.)
But, am confident with my lines, and have my wardrobe ready to go. In a couple of hours I'll be covered in blood playing a mad scientist. I love it!!!

"I'm ready for my close up, Mr DeMille."

Here goes something,
Carl D