Weeknotes by Mo Morgan

• Offer accepted on the house, so that process is underway. I’m starting to think about the practicalities that’ll make it possible to do the work to bring it all up to standard. Despite having a paved front drive, it’s not long enough for my 23ft-long van. So I’m going to have to find a way of getting the van into the garden from the little lane that runs behind. That may mean demolishing the garage that’s already there, which would be a shame as it’s large and useful for house renovation. Anyway, all in good time.
• My colleagues make fun of my enjoyment of factory tours. But this week a client invited us to look around what they’re making, and how, in their plant in Cheltenham. It turned out to be a long tour which in turn cut short our nice lunch plans and put time pressures on our afternoon presentations. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it. It’s good to see anything complicated being done to world-class standards. Having done a few factory tours now, I find I can avoid asking stupid questions too. Interestingly they managed to keep running through lockdowns, turning their hand to making the respirator components that were proving to be hardest to source at the time. Within three weeks they’d manufactured enough to exceed national demand, which is pretty impressive.
• Channel 4 is running this show called the Piano that looks like yet more el-cheapo Great British reality shit, but I’m so glad I gave it a go. The format could be much stronger—akin to Grayson’s Art Club… feels like they missed a trick there—but great human stories; much more than typical constructed reality stuff.

Bass notes

[In which Mo learns the bass guitar]

• Usually, it’s my fretting hand that exposes its weaknesses. This week it’s been my plucking hand. Within a couple of weeks of learning my plucking technique felt pretty solid. Not good, of course, but certainly with the fundamentals coming together. This week it all fell apart. It’s part of that unlearn/relearn thing that tends to happen in cycles when you’re learning something. Same with powertools: first time I use it works out great. Second time’s a disaster. Then from there it’s about making conscious effort.
• I fear Gear Acquisition Syndrome. But my little plug-in headphone amps are harsh and tiring, so I decided to get a few pedals. The first one was a nice preamp from Aguilar: I did a fair amount of research to pick out one that’d be a nice pairing with my bass, found one as a bargain on eBay and I’m delighted with the outcome. Because of Gear Acquisition Syndrome there are bargains to be had on second-hand pedals. There’s a couple of other bits I’m on the lookout for, but no rush.

• The Last of Us is an impressive show. That third episode with Nick Offerman and Murray Bartlett putting down world-class performances of a great script had me bawling.
• A working week of wacky weirdness. Knotty strategic problems. If there is a perfect answer, it’s not coming easily. Still hoping to wake up one morning with the whole thing perfectly formed in my head. It has happened before, but sadly not every time.
• Latest mad project: eye-contact webcam. My ultrawide screen is massive, so I’m rarely able to look remotely near my webcam perched on top while talking to people on Teams or Zoom. So I started looking around for ways to set that up. I’ve used el-cheapo teleprompter setups before while filming for Lumino, and was surprised I couldn’t find something vaguely similar that was based around a computer screen rather than a phone or tablet.
• So I dug into it. It took quite a lot of research to find a small HDMI screen that could display a mirror image of its input. Many claim to ‘flip’ but actually just rotate, which wouldn’t work for viewing in reflection. Having found a workable combination of little screen and teleprompter, I then had to find a way to suspend the whole lot above my desk over my ultrawide. The solution turned out to be a curtain pole clamped between two desk-mounted camera-lighting stands. I use a Thunderbolt dock that has two Displayport outputs so it was pretty easy just to hook up a third screen.

• It’s not quite perfect yet, but it’s really good. The little screen is great for seeing other people’s faces: not so great for presentations but Teams can ‘pop out’ screen shares to a separate window that I can drag elsewhere. And when I’m looking at those faces, I’m looking almost straight down the webcam.
• Also, made an offer on a house that I’ve not seen in person. I know, I know.

Cat notes

[In which Mo thinks about his cat]

Millie (the cat) has loved life over the last three years. She loved me being signed off sick, she loved the lockdown and she has loved the shift to hybrid working. She has no way to comprehend why any of this happened or the human tragedies that took place over this period. But she’s enjoyed having people around nearly all the time.

Millie is unusual in several ways. She is cordial to all humans, but very selective about who she sits on and when. She loathes being picked up or cuddled, but loves a rub and doesn’t observe the usual cat sensitivities about where that rub takes place. She prefers to hang out with, but not on, a human. She goes through phases of being a terrible bully. And being a bengal, she talks and listens all the time.

After about five years I realised she was kind-of saying things. I’d anthromorphised our call-and-response conversations since her kittenhood, but eventually I realised she is ‘talking’ about the limited selection of things that interest her. Something she’s seen or heard, something she wants, and most often in reply to something you say to her. She also talks to plants and other objects, and yells out at the world through the double glazing just after bedtime. She doesn’t yelp for food: I broke the association between myself and kibbles when she was young, with the introduction of an automated feeder. She has a particular little cry for ‘look at this’ even if it’s apparently mundane.

She’s getting on now. Technically a ‘senior’, although fit and in good health. She’ll be here for a good while, but not forever. I’m evermore reminded of this and it makes me pay attention. There’ll be a time when we won’t be able to hang out and chat about abstract and often tedious shit. There’ll be a time when she won’t mistake a Teams call for a conversation and crow in every pause. And to that extent she reminds me to pay attention to the present moment.

You often hear that cats are boring pets because they’re aloof. I’m sad they weren’t lucky enough to meet the right cat.

Bass notes

[In which Mo learns the bass guitar]

• Right now I’m doing the boring bit of learning technique by repeating exercises over and over to develop muscle-memory. It is boring and at times painful. And when it’s painful I have to stop to avoid damage. So, it’s quite slow. But will be worth it, long-term.
• I’m trying to avoid gear-acquisition syndrome, but I had long chosen the preamp that I wanted to pair with my bass, and one happened to come up for peanuts on eBay. It’s yet to arrive but I’m looking forward to it.

• A slog of a week. One of those ones that felt about nine days long. Not always a bad thing, though.
• Another unsuccessful house-hunt at the weekend. Couldn’t get in to see the one I’m sure is probably the best candidate so far. Another was in the right place but not enough space. Amazing wallpaper though. Both in ambition and variety. I have a lot of time for people who go down to the hardware store, march straight past the white emulsion and pick up the wackiest thing they can stand. Good philosophy for life.
• I’m working on an agency website refresh: my fourth. Agencies are terrible clients. But some good progress was made this week. There are moments at which everything seems to be dependent upon everything else. It’s like that kids’ game where you all stand in a circle, turn to the left and sit down on each-other’s laps. The trick is for everyone to move the same way at the same time. As with so many things.
• I stayed over in Bristol mid-week. I’d booked myself into a central guesthouse for a couple of nights. Excellent location in theory but Christ, what a terrible place. It butts up hard against a noisy chain pub. It was a cold spell but there was no heating setting between stifling and near-freezing. I’m a heavy sleeper and cold-tolerant but even I did not sleep well. Wasn’t especially clean either. The following morning, it took them so long to prepare breakfast I had to give up waiting and head to work. Another night there and I’d have been too ratty to remain employed so I left the key at reception and did not return for my second night.
• There are many worse things to listen to on a train journey than Stevie Wonder. Not only the first hits that spring to mind: the delicious, intricate stuff that might not be camping out in your cortex but is utterly magical listening.

Van notes

[In which Mo builds a campervan]

• It’s finally getting warm/dry enough to make more progress. The enemy of a campervan build is weight. There’s a non-negotiable maximum, including passengers, of 3,500kg. Before fit-out, the van itself weighted over 1,100kg. While the remaining two tonnes seems like plenty, it evaporates pretty quickly. There’s nearly 35kg of electrical cabling. 85kg of mattress. 130kg of water. 140kg of plywood. 40kg of steel. I’m probably up to 8kg of screws and 6kg of paint. On and on it goes.
• This forces some very careful design and construction work. I’ve spent hours building and rebuilding CAD models of various parts of the build, each time cutting out mass and adding material strength. You sort of get into it after a while. It must have been like this when building early aircraft.
• So, I’m working on the middle of the van where there’ll be a bench each side, facing in. Both have sprung slats like a bed to keep them comfortable, and both cantilever up like blanket boxes: one as storage, the other as a shower basin. Seriously. The benches occupy the space between bed and kitchen, so their dimensions and alignment had to be planned a long time in advance of their construction. If it weren’t for the weight restriction, you’d just build a couple of cuboids and nail plywood to them: done. In this case, though, making them function while also light and comfortable has been one of the most difficult construction tasks. The pi-shaped frames that hold it all together and the cantelever seat were all in place before Christmas but, on their own, were not strong enough to accept any load. This weekend was dry enough to make the vertical battoned plywood side-sections that take the weight, and that meant for the first time I got to sit, very carefully, on a seat I’ve been designing and assembling for over a year.