Encounters with America

Encounters with the most boring American ever.

Apologies [a] for the tardiness - that was Google's fault and [b] some of the language. That is entirely mine.

So, at the risk of insulting an entire nation, here goes.

Today's bus journey - after a 19 minute stand in the drizzle - was not interesting. OK, so the retro '80s video playing on the TV were amusing, in that way all '80s retro videos are. But after a while I realised these weren't all retro, some were new. It seems the program had gathered together Russian, or I suppose more accurately, Soviet bands from the '80s and were playing one of their videos followed by the band playing live at a concert. Now, I may be one to talk, but some of the folks had certainly lived the Life of Pie and were having trouble getting into their costumes. But what really struck me was how can you celebrate the '80s as a Russian. OK, so we're ones to talk what with the Falklands, Miners' Strike, Thatcher, Housing Bubble #1 etc. but Russia? The Mighty Root Vegetable Shortage of 1983? Afghanistan Part 1. And the Clod War. Where stupid people tried to spy on each other without getting caught. Anyway it kept me from having to listen to The Most Boring American Ever.

Right, so there are nice Americans. Those that keep themselves to themselves, don't over share and open doors for you. Then there are those that deserve to be on daytime TV. Or maybe even night-time TV. This guy was a Network Analyst, but perhaps was more Networkyst Anal. Oh lord help us from the what correct dose of Doorhingaprol is, and what the side effects are and the best way out of Manhattan when going against traffic and what Minnesota is like in the winter and the summer and the spring and the fall and how many cushions he's got on sofa and whether they really go with the drapes but his girlfriend chose them. And all the time you want to bash him against the headrest shouting 'Autumn, Curtains, Autumn, Curtains' But manners, we are their guests. He kept this up for the entire journey, a good 40 minutes. They didn't have any Kate Bush, but that had a lass singing 'Grandmother'; wasn't the same.

Today's handy hint: Don't drink the premium water in the hotel. Sure it's got minerals and vitamins aplenty, but it tastes like it came from the foothills of Chernobyl...

That Studio

Here it is. At the start of the week it was the Union Jack Flag Jack.

Today's amazing statistic: I had to reboot the settop in te Foyer to put a new version on it. I didn't mean to reboot it, but from the Videoscape Juno Cloud Client Management Console (tm) I accidentally selected in before sending the reboot command. Anyhoo, it had been up 4 days and recording constantly. The recording was 21GB in size.

The office is a changing

My two colleagues have been kicked out of 'our' office and have been given a desk in the IT lair - where I made the classic mistake of speaking mock German in front of a German, two nations down. Anyway, moved in are two guys from IBS Sports. They provide Timing and Score Data into the Customer character systems (they have Chyron, if you're interested. Didn't think so) so when the score pops up you know it's a live 0-0 not a guessed one. And the timing comes straight from the Olympic Timekeepers. Why they don't take the OBS CG feed I don't know. But hey.

IBS has one of those mid-aged, mid-sized mid-west Americans that can bitch about anything - bit like me really, only with more class. It was the range of bitching that impressed in the end. Office [MS] Windows [MS] Office [Physical] Windows [Lack Of]. Keyboard; Typing; Laundry; Coke; on and on and on. And the fact that the laptops provided by Customer weren't quite to spec - bring your own, we did - and they weren't quite right and every time he moved it was accompanied by the word - apols - fuck. Arm up, fuck; arm down, fuck. Walk, fuck; fart, fuck. I mean, ah jeez. And in the end, in the midst of the cursing and the farting and the whingeing, he wondered if he might get some action with one of the young runners that are here. Whaddja reckon?

The reason we're here

Here's a picture of why we need 25Mb data.

Yeah.

Here's a picture of the BOC

BOC == Broadcast Operations Center

This is where all the feeds come into the station and go out. I'll take a couple more piccies later. Well impressive huh?

They way home

Colleague and I walked from the IBC to the hotel tonight, it took about 40 minutes and two security checks. Naturally, all the pictures I took are rubbish, so I'll have to try again.

And that means, that for once, it wasn't raining.