Three jobs and the bag where I work.

Three days of work. Two were corporate self love pieces: one for a soft drink distributor and the other a "private banking" (read "rich folks are not like us") training film for a giant bank that once famously held my mortgage and was a titanic pain in the ass. The other day was medical talking heads, which while it a stupid system, doctors at least personally want to cure, help and comfort other humans. Banks and soft drink distributors not so much. Most of my days are kindergarten field trips into the lives of others: jobs that I would not want for the most part. Cubicles and sales jobs. Doing things that require people to purchase things they may or may not need. I understand that most people do need things and are willing to buy them so offering it to them is no crime. I am just wary of the system and not very willing to sell them anything.

Hence I am a servant in the corporate video world, where I rarely spend more that a day working for any one company. I have very little responsibility. This is a blessing and a curse. That sounds amazingly trite, but even with the view, I do not want the desk.

I spend most of my work days in my porta brace bag gazing lovingly at my Sound Devices 442 mixer. The day at the supermarket was fun because my gear could live in a shopping cart. I don't typically have a sound cart as it is too reminiscent of the sound guys who show up with deck chairs and newspapers. I enjoy the lighting and the whole set up experience, so I am not the the first call for sound man, but I do get the two man band call when the DP does need a gaffer but the producer needs to not pay for one. I own a bunch of audio gear but like all earthly, material items they will all eventually fail you. Things far apart and entropy will not be denied. My kit reminds me of that fact every day I am out with it.