Lepus Lepidus

Gonna be out of contact for a few days, to anyone who might be curious. Going on a trip for a story; it’s gonna be interesting and I’ve never done anything quite like this…and it’s not even my story, really. But it was my idea so here I go. I’ll probably be off the grid and away from email for a good chunk of it; depends on the hotels along the way. At least I should be off my foot for most of the journey.

Heh heh heh.

For those of you who know us but haven’t been around us lately:

• Kat is learning to play piano, very quickly. Her teacher says she’s literally the quickest study he’s had in several decades. She has the benefit of being an adult, but she also has the deficit of being an adult, so take it however you like. All I know is that I like hearing little baroque melodies wafting up from the living room, and we got a good deal on a compact, used digital piano.
• I’m happy as Larry at my job. I really feel like I fit at OXM, I am constantly challenged in a good way, and I think the more creative risks we take in the coming year, the better off we’ll be. Hopefully those risks will pay off, of course. But I like the editorial vision and freedom and the proverbial wheels are turning.
• Kat has been working on Pregnancy magazine as a contractor, which is not only a pleasant work environment but profitable as well. But the lure of a full-time position is strong, and she’s found one that might be a very good fit and would give her all the things that Future is apparently unable or unwilling to give her. (You don’t pass someone over for three different full-time positions for which they are qualified unless you want to send that person a message, albeit a cowardly one.) Cross your fingers; I will not say more so I don’t jinx it.
• I love my Taylor T5 so much that I am going to sell two more guitars, but as we get closer to the core of the collection, the prices are going up. I think these next two will be $500+ each. I will always give friends first shot before listing them on Craigslist/eBay. Let me know if you are interested and I’ll tell you what I’m letting go.
• The world of music copyright clearance is frightening and confusing. I am only sinking deeper into it as I try to figure out whether I’ve done the right thing or not. This is why so many people just write their own stuff rather than create parody.
• WoW is preventing The Book from progressing. I need, like, two weeks in a cabin with internet access but no WoW, and I think I could get it together.

My recent explorations into copyright and use of recorded material has made my head spin. But I didn’t get actually nauseous until I got this note in my email regarding this summer’s upcoming International Jugglers Association convention and competition:

IJA Festival competitors please note:

*No* copyrighted music can be used in the Championships or Individual Prop Competition unless you provide written proof that you have obtained both *performance* and *synchronization* rights from the copyright owner(s) to use the recording in IJA competitions *and* videos. See the related article on page 5 of this e-newsletter.

Hold it. The artist has to clear the rights for musical rights not just for performance (which makes sense, it’s their work of art and that’s part of their responsibility, like it or not) but also synch…so that that the IJA can profit from that performance? And the juggler is expected to foot that bill?

Bullshit. The juggler is creating the performance, and the IJA is creating the video. Artist should pay perf, IJA should pay synch, unless the juggler is also going to get direct profits from the video, which they’re not. Let’s talk responsibility.

Here’s the worst thing you will hear of this week. All month, god willing.

Not for the squeamish.

As a juggler, I have battled gravity for years and won, but today, gravity got a 1up. Playing basketball in the weekly Future lunchtime game, I came down hard and felt a movement in my ankle that can only be described onomatopoeically as KLOK! Sort of like cracking your knuckles, but it was my entire ankle.

No swelling, no shooting pain, so it’s not a sprain or a break — just radiating anger from all the things around my ankle that really didn’t want to move that way, let alone so suddenly. And they let me know every time I put weight on it.

Thus endeth my basketball career. I have gotten a little more hurt every week and I finally have to say, enough. The other guys are hereby the alpha males; I will comfort myself by making awesome armor in World of Warcraft. Unlike the other guys, I have two jobs — fake journalist and fake rock star — and while the exercise was supposed to help counteract the sedentary effects of the former, I need to not put myself at risk for the latter.

And sure enough, I have Jude’s farewell gig tomorrow night. Doh!

The shoes, however, will live on.