So I asked my reliable advisor on these matters, the divine Jason M., what I should get.
|isn't it cute? like a little robot.|
And I thought to myself, whoa, why does this teenaged character in my novel have such an ultra-expensive field recorder? And why can't I have one? Which is my usual thought process.
Well, it was too expensive for me, a fact I shared with my reliable advisor.
"Maybe you could get your department to buy one?" he said.
"But then it would be theirs. And I want it to be mine." I said, also totally typical. Right: don't ask the department to get an awesome field mic that I'd be able to use on school-related projects. Obviously, it would be better to have a less awesome mic, because at least it would be mine.
(Actually, that totally makes sense to me.)
"Then you should just look for the best-rated mic in your price range," he said, and that's what I did.
So the other day when I was using it to help a workshop attendee (remember? the workshops? yeah, me either) record the narration for her digital story, I set up the microphone. We have less than optimal recording circumstances in the Pub Center--there's a heavy door (good), but a giant grate in the door (bad), so there was all manner of foot traffic and squeaky shoe soles and even a little chatter out in the hall. I feared the worst.
But when we replayed the recording, it was pristine. Score one for the highly-rated microphone in my price range! And bonus: it is mine!
|this is a frying pan...|
|...and this is a fire.|
And it has been fun, don't get me wrong. I've learned some things, I've helped other people learn some things. Their stories will be awesome.
But on Saturday--on Saturday, there will be no more workshops.
On Saturday, there will, however, be grading.