This morning, my laptop was really zipping along, operating like a brand new purchase unencumbered by personal files, pics, and software. Unfortunately, that was because it was unencumbered by personal files, pics, and software. For some reason it failed to load my personal settings despite multiple reboots. This may be just the latest in a long line of problems that have plagued this computer of late or it could be the result of the headlong tumble (compliments of my pug Maximus darting in front of me as I was walking, laptop in hand) that sent me crashing into a staircase – though, in hindsight, my right knee absorbed most of the impact. No, no. It’s time I faced facts. I can’t put it off any longer. It’s time I got a new laptop. I just have to decide what I want and pull the trigger. Mac or PC? Ashleigh suggested I was more the “PC type”. I asked her what the hell she meant by that but she deftly skirted the subject. I had my suspicions and they seemed to be confirmed later in the day when, during a discussion on vocal producers, she jokingly referred to Carl and I as “Old Yellers”. I know, I know. It’s a wonder I still let her send out my mail.
Anyway, like yesterday, script coordinator Lawren Bancroft-Wilson addressed my computer problems. Sort of. He located my personal files, but my outlook express and various documents remain inaccessible. Fortunately, I backed everything up on an external hard drive.
That I can’t find.
So today, we celebrated Robert Cooper’s birthday by gathering outside his office, cake ready and candles flaming, and waiting for him to get off the damn phone. Fifteen minutes into the small talk and standing around, Ashleigh complained that her arms were getting tired and asked me whether I would mind holding the cake. I was more than happy to oblige and, moments later, the birthday boy exited his office. A spirited off-key rendition of Happy Birthday later and Rob blew out the candles – spraying chocolate flakes all over my suit and dress shirt. I threw a look to Ashleigh who feigned an apologetic shrug. No problem. I’ll send her the dry-cleaning bill.
After a special birthday-schnitzel lunch, we watched two FANTASTIC episodes back to back – the Day 2 mixes of Justice and Time (Trust me. You’ll be blown away by some of the surprises in store.) – and then watched about an hour’s worth of visual effects for Space, Divided, and Faith. Mark Savela and his team continue to produce some of the best visuals this franchise has ever seen: aliens, ships, space battles. Incredible stuff.
Finally – One of the many things that have pleased us in the early ratings has been the show’s impressive performance in the key demos. Now I’m sure that for many of you sitting at home are wondering: “What the hell are key demos?”. Well, key demos (aka key demographics) are that subset of our viewing audience that appeal so greatly to advertisers and, by extension, the network and studio. And what groups comprise these subsets of the viewing audience? Well, let me break it down for you:
Deathbed millionaires: Apparently, approximately 1% of all deathbed millionaires bequeath part or all of their fortunes to individuals associated with their favorite programming. (Hey, how do you think John Coulier got that place in Malibu?)
Young males aged 16 and a half to 18 years of age: Studies have shown that boys who fall within this narrow age bracket are most likely to make impulse purchases motivated by commercials featuring speeding cars, explosions, and/or talking animals with foreign accents.
Pets with disposable income: one of the fastest growing market segments out there.
Doting grandmothers who count on t.v. to let them know what their grandkids would like for their birthdays.
Hugely successful criminals looking to launder cash by purchasing big ticket items.
Now the aforementioned are fairly obvious. The following are a list of less obvious but no less important key demos: high-strung classical pianists, left-handed barristas, twins of a twin parent with names that begin with the same letter of the alphabet, belligerent raccoons, individuals who sing lustily in the shower and on public transport, baseball players reluctant to slide into second base for fear of getting an ouchy, capeless magicians, those chimps local sports shows get to pick the winners of upcoming NFL games, tuba players in marching bands, people who think they’re telepathic, people who don’t think they’re telepathic but really are, anyone sporting a prescription monocole, towel boys for Division 1 college football teams with a losing record and a mascot wearing a silly hat, temperamental spoiled children used to getting their way, parents of temperamental spoiled children eager for some peace and quiet, circus clowns, pannini maker makers, albino sherpas who offer accounting services out of their own home office, pirates and/or people who dress up and fancy themselves pirates, anyone who has contracted a rare disease from a parrot used to round out a pirate costume, anyone who says “for prosperity’s sake” instead of “for posterity’s sake”, adventurous librarians, snake charmers who own their own cobras rather than rent them on an as needed basis, claustrophobic figure skaters, grape farmers suffering from sleep apnea, ferret owners who dress up their pets in funny outfits, airport security wand wavers, spirit mediums who rarely do anything well done, train conductors who also conduct orchestras, and dolphins with t.v. privileges.
Hope that clears things up.