Sometimes you gotta love a Sunday

10:00 – Waking up after having returned, last evening, from quite a horrible vacation in Eilat. That is – we had a nice hotel, courtesy of my grandma(!), a 6-persons Jacuzzi, some friends and, as far as I was concerned, Nothing To Do. But then, that's the past, and now everyone involved understands that taking me on vacation is a bad idea, and my idea of relaxing is being in my studio, thank you very much.
So – waking up, brushing teeth. Not Going To Work. Nice one.
12:00 – The Weird Tale of the CD Phoenix:
Once upon a time I had a YAMAHA 5-plates CD player. And then, of course, it broke. Or, at least, refused to play, or even come to terms with the fact that there's a CD inside it. After a reasonable delay (about two years) I took it to an electronics lab. That was about three (3) months ago.
About a week later I got a call from said lab, stating that my CD player has gone to the dogs, or whatever animal to which things go when they die. It was, so the technician explained, quite an old CD player, parts for which are no longer available.
Fine, said I, and started upon a quest of finding a new CD player. This time I wanted it to also play MP3 (good for guests), but I didn't want it to be a DVD player (horrible sound quality). It was a long quest, and quite a tedious one. Finally I got me a new machine, about three weeks ago. T'was quite expensive – but a really good one.
And last friday, being bored in Eilat, checking my answering machine at home by remote, I got a message from the lab telling me that my CD player was fixed and ready.
This was a very interesting development, of course, and thus I went to the lab and asked for explanations.
"Whatcha want?" said the owner, and old Tel-Avivish person of quite a temper. "Whatcha mean 'it couldn't be fixed' and 'it's fixed'. Is it fixed or isn't it fixed?"
"That's what I'm asking," I said.
"It can't be," said the owner. "Is any of them things on this shelf your CD player?"
"Yes – that big black one."
The owner took it and read the notes attached to it. "So what's your problem?" he said. "It's fixed!"
To make a long story short – it seems that the lab's technician indeed checked my CD player, decided that it can't be repaired and gave me that call. However, several weeks ago that technician got hurt in an accident – or maybe it was some kind of disease – and has been hospitalized ever since. The new technician, being ignorant of his noble precedor's logic and devotion, took my old CD player apart and fixed it in about an hour of work.
50 NIS, is what it cost me.
I wonder what to do with it now.
13:00 – Avi, a good friend and drummer, came to check on my new drum set. After about fifteen minutes of messing about with many parts of said drums of which existence I was quite ignorant before, we set about recording them. I can't describe the sound, really, but let us say that afterwards Avi expressed his wish to buy said drums himself – and this from a person who already owns five or six sets of drums of various sizes and quite amazing price-tags.
17:00 – Good friend and cinema-man Elad comes to set everything up for:
18:30 – Starting to shoot interviews with Israeli SF fans for a British documentary film. Fans in question: SF writers Guy Hasson and Vered Tochterman (who is also chief editor of Dreams in Aspamia), Tamar Rosenthal, Naomi Wiener, and publisher Rani Graff. It was almost like a convention, but with professionals on the camera, and with Keren. And, of course, with a Keren-made cake (and the usual phenomenon: Keren complains that she ruined it, and everyone eating like crazy. They're probably afraid of her. That must be it).
21:00 – After the fans left and Keren went to sleep, we put the camera in the Nir Space Station and I talked until we ran out of tape, and then some.
22:00 – 23:00 – Trying to wake Keren up for:
23:30 – A great partly at a great place called "Norma Jean", in honor of a friend of us who returned to Israel after several months in India. I drank some beer (my bi-annual dose, I believe – a glass and a half) and was therefore jolly good, especially since I haven't eaten almost anything that day.
I don't remember when I got home.

I need more Sundays like that.