Fallen

You got some problem with a guy wearing wings?
Never mind the icebergs, move the chairs into smaller groups, will you?
That's enough for now.

A stereotypical but surprisingly uncommon vista, as it turns out.
I survived the "dry heat" of Arizona, and am now attempting to survive the return to Miami and the day job. I enjoyed my visit quite a bit, and wish it had been longer. Long weekends with three-hour time changes, it seems, are not very efficient.

Your humble author on-stage in Orlando
Technically, of course, you aren't the "voice of God" if people can see you. In that regard you might say my job last week didn't work out exact;y as planned, as evidenced by the screen capture above (provided by Fanless of Fanless.com). On arriving at the venue I was rather matter-of-factly informed that the director had decided that for part of the show — the majority of it, actually — I was to be on-stage. It's a damned good thing I brought my suit, that's all I can say.
It went well, or well enough, anyway. Undoubtedly due to the overwhelming support vibes sent my way by you, my loyal readers and friends, I didn't have even an iota of stage fright. There was an awkward moment at first, when the unrehearsed blocking was discovered to prevent me from seeing what was happening behind me, leaving me without a visual cue for going ahead. But that was quickly resolved, and the rest of the show went without incident.
With that event behind me, my Year of Motion continues with a trip to Phoenix. Yes, in a few hours I am going to board a plane for a location even hotter than Miami, where the high today is expected to be 112°F. Assuming I do not spontaneously burst into flames, you will hear from me again soon.
Tonight I'll be doing something very interesting, and something I haven't done before — providing the Voice of God (aka unseen announcer duties) for a televised event. It isn't my first time behind a microphone, but my previous experience was hosting events for 800 co-workers, not voicing a tuxedoed state-wide gala, so there is a noticeable increase in pressure.
But here's the frustrating part. As much as I would like to do so, I can't write about exactly what I'm doing, or where, or for what event. My employer prefers that I not reference them in any way on-line; therefore, while I can speak in general terms about work-related activities, I can't mention anything that might positively connect me with them. I guess they are ashamed of me, I don't know.
Anyway, even if I mentioned the specifics I doubt any of you would watch it — hell, I doubt I would if I didn't have to spend two hours saying "From Double-Wide City in Traylor County, Miss Lily White!". Nonetheless, should you happen to think about it around 6:30 tonight, spare a kind thought for me. I can use the psychic boost.
After all, who knows? Maybe I can parlay this into a new career. I'm about due for a mid-life crisis, right?
Welcome! The main page will contain the most recent updates, the (and I shudder every time I use this word) blog. The sections below will take you to other content of potential interest. In particular, may I direct you to the "About" section at the bottom? There you'll find ways to contact me, and that's certain to make my day.
Over the last eight years I have discovered an interest in digital photography. I am purely an amateur, but if you keep your expectations to a minimum you may find something you'll enjoy among my Flickr pages.
The past can be a scary place. Organizing your past can also be scary, particularly for a site as old as Hidden City.
Recommended sites in the Republic of Florida, the Civilized World, and a few other places, as well.
About
You'll find the Hidden City between this world and the next, cross-hatched with alleyways opening on amazing vistas, and and eight-lane dead-ends. It is also a collection of thoughts, essays, dreams, and fictions about the life of your humble host, Marc Kevin Hall, who is solely responsible for all original content. Go here for a quick overview.