How it's made

I gave up a significant portion of my Saturday to help spot for the public address announcer at the Ohio High School All-Star Football Classic. (FYI, you can see Columbus' skyline in the stadium photo.) In addition to telling him who made the plays on offense and defense, my job was to serve as an intermediary among the PA booth, the video board operators, and field presenters. It's easy work and easy money. (To the laptop fund!) Plus, being behind the scenes gives me a glimpse of how tightly scripted events like this are.

I'm fascinated with how things are made and marvel at the complexity often involved in producing something that appears simple. Coordinating all of the announcements, video spots, on-field recognitions, and filler music isn't really that complicated, but I expect that the average person isn't aware of how much effort is put into making it all as seamless as possible. (I will add that I'm not sure that it's always a good thing. One of the bane of sporting events is the attempt to keep people constantly amused during breaks in the action. The relentless music and other diversions smack of an overeager desire to entertain lest one unchoreographed second pass and allow us to think if we're enjoying ourselves or not.) I had fun hearing how it all came together via the headsets and doing my part to keep us on schedule and get information to the crowd.

Tonight I was reminded how my enjoyment of observing and understanding how things are made is a big part of what I do. I put together TV shows, the final versions of which hopefully seem effortless. I review films, which involves examining structure and the interplay of elements. I loved Standby: Lights! Camera! Action! on Nickelodeon when I was a kid. The show revealed the tricks involved with special effects and built my interest in the rest of the filmmaking process.

I didn't get into knitting to figure out how clothes and other things were made, but I am amazed at the ingenuity it took to develop the craft's techniques and patterns. Perhaps that's why I get cold feet about learning to knit something new. Finished objects look complicated--sometimes they are--but as I gain more knowledge, I'm finding that I am capable of more than I believe myself to be.

I knew there would be some down time before the game, so I took my knitting with me in spite of some concern that this wasn't the best venue for knitting in public. I found a solitary seat in the shade and cast on Knit Picks Essential Tweed in Inca Gold for a different pair of socks. It's the first time I've used fingering weight yarn. I'm also employing the smallest needles--US 3 dpns--that I've ever worked with. I only had time to cast on and knit one round. (I had to cast on twice since my long tail was excessively long on the first try.) And no, I wasn't banished from the stadium for doing something that surely was an affront to the football playing that was to come.

So there isn't any confusion, no, I haven't finished my other sock. I just felt like starting this one.