This is how my brain works:

My imagination gallops freely.


A few hours ago, I booted up Pro Tools to work on my most recent tracks. With the program open, I recorded a vocal take, and then decided it was rubbish, so I deleted my take while the program was playing the song.

Well, Pro Tools certainly didn’t like that and promptly gave me the middle finger. The song suddenly stopped playing and I got a long-a** error message that said something about an “access violation”. That might’ve sounded scandalously sexy if it was whispered in my ear by a hot shirtless guy at Fly, but not while I was eager to get in front of the mic and redo the vocal, soon realizing in dread that Pro Tools was about to crash on me.

And crash it did! I booted it back up after turning down the knob for the mic’s recording level to zero, since I wasn’t ready to record yet. Or, at least I thought I turned down the mic. When the program started again, I played the song, and to my horror, I couldn’t hear anything playing. Nada. Silence.

I immediately assumed the worst: The program’s dead; I’ve f**ked it up. I turned up the volume on my headphones, way up, all the way to the right, and then I faintly heard my song. It was a tiny and bittersweet victory: I could cross the worst off my list, but still, I couldn’t work on music like this, with the volume severely crippled. I couldn’t even hear the overall song clearly, never mind edit and mix individual instruments and my voice.

I tried to be resourceful and decided to Google that damn “access violation” error. After right-clicking like crazy on any links with my keywords and then sifting through dozens of browsing tabs (This is how my brain works for a later time), I came up with nothing that applied to my specific situation. I continued problem-solving and tried to isolate the problem. When I opened my iTunes and found, to my horror, that my library was quiet like a real library, I realized the problem wasn’t the Pro Tools software, but the Mbox hardware that delivered sound to my headphone and speakers.

Two grim options popped in my head, and I did NOT want to entertain either: talk to tech support, or buy a new Mbox. Ugh! I desperately tried to sling a positive spin on all this: this is teaching me a lesson, to not ever delete an audio file while Pro Tools is playing a song. Great. I feel so much better.

I tried restart my computer; nope, any song I played still sounded like it was shy to my ears. I then uninstalled and reinstalled, and after holding my breath figuratively for several minutes (while I calmed myself down by checking out the new songs for Dance Central), the verdict was still NO; volume knob cranked to 11 and I heard whispers. The two dreadful options crept right up to my face, with tech support being logical first choice.

It may be logical, but it sure as hell didn’t mean I remotely wanted to do it. I generally hate calling people, especially strangers. Add the fact that tech support is just a whole other realm of FML, as The Oatmeal so succinctly points out, and it resulted in a serious downer.

Whenever I get emotional, my imagination gallops freely. This is a great asset for creative writing and songwriting, for creating characters, situations, and plots, but it also means my fear of sharp objects gets magnified and often produces grisly mental images.

Since I was not happy about the prospect of calling and speaking with tech support, I imagined the worst: someone at the other end who couldn’t help me with anything, and then tried to sell more sh*t to me. I could then see myself sprouting horned wings and breathing fire into my melting cordless, shouting, “I’ve been a Pro Tools customer for almost a decade, and THIS is what you’ll do for me? ROB ME WITH MY PANTS DOWN??!!” And when the guy or girl would then say, “Sorry, there’s nothing more I can do for you,” I would threaten to defame them vehemently on Facebook. “You think I’m just another anonymous dollar sign? You’re messing with the wrong guy. Don’t test me…DON’T. I WILL tell everyone on Facebook. Oh, just watch how much damage I can do to your business.” I could see myself adding as many musicians as I can find on FB, and then tagging all of them in a nasty FB status about how PT is the worst thing since Rebecca Black’s “Friday”, and repeating it as many times as necessary to tag everyone I could find. Anger can be so productive sometimes.

This all happened before I even bothered to look for a tech support number. I sighed at the reality of the situation, and as I mentally weighed procrastinating on making the call and desiring to work on my songs, my eyes caught a user forum message that mentioned something about turning up the Mix knob on the Mbox hardware.

I paused. And then I laughed at myself. I thought I’d turned down the mic knob…

All that internal drama for nothing. I went crazy over turning the wrong knob. Pretty sure THAT’S happened to me before ;)

Before I went back to working out with Dance Central, I let my imagination run loose one more time, to ponder how the tech support call would’ve really gone down:

“Sir, did you turn up the volume knob?”

“Of course I did! It’s always at the same level!”

“Did you turn up the Mix knob?”

“What? No, of course not! I’ll tell you what I turned DOWN: the mic knob. I never touch the Mix knob…” (cue me looking at the Mix knob) “Oh wait…”

“Yes, sir?”

“…I turned down the Mix knob.” (cue pathetic giggle)

“…anything else I can help you with, sir?”