You know, a lot of people have teased me about my recording tent. Some have praised the clean sound in enables me to produce, but most have mocked it.
That's okay. I accept that not everyone's ideal recording set-up includes crawling into an old Spiderman children's play tent covered with a lavender, sheep-festooned flannel sheet, and a worn duvet cover—all held together with binder clips and duct tape.
Really, I don't mind. Chuckle all you want. It looks stupid. I know!
However, the other day I came across the following disturbing sight. And this is where I draw the line, people. Make fun of it all you want, but I will not allow my goofy-looking recording tent to be assaulted!
I was shocked! It was in shambles!
Was there an earthquake? Was it the kids? No. Soon the problem became clear...
And just in case there was any doubt:
Yeah, not a lot of remorse there. And sadly, it wasn't a one-time incident. She tears it down every chance she gets.
So now I have a new pre-recording task. In addition to turning off the heater and refrigerator, moving the ticking clock to the other room, applying lip balm, making sure I have hot tea and cool water at the ready, the microphone plugged in and the lap top fully charged, I also must put the kitten in the back room and close the door before I finish assembling the recording tent.
On a positive note, I've been podcasting for over a year, but now I feel I've truly arrived! Because one thing I've noticed when listening to other podcasters' outtakes, is that feline interference and podcasting seem to go hand in hand!