I warned you.  I told you this was an awful idea that would ruin me and irritate you.  I begged to be talked out of it.  And what do I get for my troubles.  Twenty or thirty pats on the back and “atta-boys.”  You guys are the nicest bunch of bloggers on the planet.  Dang it.

So, if you get nothing else out of this upstart podcast/blog idea, you might at least get a couple of laughs.  Because I was warning you for a reason.  I am a talentless wannabe.  And if my first day as a podcaster is any measure, you may be in for a string of reports like this one:
Yesterday sucked.  I told you I was too busy for new ideas.  Freaking peace day extraordinaire.  My shepherding of the meeting to organize the gigantic local anti-war effort against our wing-nut war-monger elected official.

And the meeting was like herding freaking cats.  There is no way to get three anti-war people in a room to agree on anything.  That is my theory.  I worked all day laying out the best plan I could.  Forests were sacrificed for the various handouts and samples I passed among my comrades.  A comprehensive plan based on months of planning with individuals and groups.  And it was nit-picked ad nauseam from the outset.  Horrible experience.  Made me want to have one of those Korean parliamentary fistfights.  But that’s not a very peaceful response.  So I grinned.  Bore it.  And the idea is moving forward and evolving in new and fun ways.  Vague, to be sure.  But onward.

So I had to go get a beer or three to wind down.  Raspberry Ale, followed by Blue Moon.  And the obligatory late night cheeseburger.  (Because I was working all day, preparing to herd cats, and forgot any meals — okay — back off about the New Year’s resolution).

Came home happy.  Read all of your kind words.  Sheesh.  Ask for a little help from friends, to let the air out of an idea, and what do they do for you.  Pump you up.  Pat you on the back.

To be honest, I guess if I had wanted to get flamed about this, I would have posted it on dKos.  Could have gotten enough hate-mail in the three minutes it stayed on the list to keep me out of podcasting for another year.  So I guess I really do like this stupid idea.  As evidenced by how I spent the late hours of last evening.  Doing a podcast for you.  A pilot program.  Intended to be unveiled in this very diary.  Oh my.

Got registered at a free site.  Used your comments to refine my idea about what I was doing.  Got a program idea together.  And eventually started crafting my own show.

Thing was supposed to be five minutes long.  A pilot, just to share with you all.  For kicks.  And further refinement.

Had some initial problems with Mozilla so switched to IE.  Then hit record and did my first broadcast.  Ten minutes of scintillating coverage from around the liberal blogosphere.  I hit on Man Eegee’s take on Ford job losses.  And tampopo’s trip to D.C.  Cruised over to dKos, and checked out Georgia10’s take on Bushapalooza — the “war on terror” tour.  And finished up with Cup O’ Joe from My Left Wing, and his rant on civility in the age of 24-hour cable news.  Great line-up.  Ran ten minutes long.

Then I hit stop.  And tried to upload.  And got nowhere.  Initial indications from the tech crew (me) are that I didn’t even record anything.  My sound engineer (me) says that I talked for ten minutes about the world of liberal blogging to an audience of one (me).  Leading to the obvious philosophical question, if a podcaster talks about bloggers in a room with no one to listen, does he make any sound.

Tried to correct the technical problems until 2:00 a.m.  My station manager (me) tells me that none of the fixes worked.  We officially have no show for today.  The pilot was a total failure.

Limped my lame ass off to bed.  Where my philosophical question was promptly answered by Mrs. BostonJoe.

“Who were you talking to down there?”

I didn’t even bother trying to answer. And the question was good news, according to my station’s account executive (me), because my audience numbers had doubled after just one broadcast.

It only gets better today.  Dentist.  Drills.  Two teeth to be repaired.  And blessed nitrous.  While I’m smelling the burn of the drill on my numbed teeth, I’ll be thinking of how to fix these technical issues, no doubt.  And try another pilot tomorrow.

The show, for now, is called IMHO Radio.  But there’s nothing to listen to.  Yet.

More updates as they happen.  And that is the last time I come to the good folks at the Booman Tribune to try to talk me out of anything.

And to answer that question burning in your minds.  Yes, if I’m stuck doing this, you’d better bet your arse that you are doing it with me.  As soon as I get some pilot material up and we refine this idea some more, I want Boo volunteers to help out.  Take days.  So I’m not up until two in the morning every night of the week.  At this rate, I’m going to sleep through the nitrous, and fail to get my dental money’s worth.

Update [2006-1-24 12:15:55 by BostonJoe]: Oh shit. I’ve figured out the initial technical difficulties. You have to press the “record” button and not the “play” button. I know you won’t believe this, but I didn’t even have to call in for outside help to get through the first crisis for IMHO Radio. I just read the manuals a bit, and viola.

But the cool part. Game on. It is too fucking cool. I recorded a bit of last nights show. Until I realized a relative had come over to visit with Mrs. BostonJoe in the next room. Now, as I walk by and look at relative, I can see a special look in her eye. The look says, “Why were you just in the other room by yourself talking in a faux radio voice like some television news anchor?” I swear. All of that is in the look. Plus scorn.

But anyway. I listened to the snippet. And it is raw. But it doesn’t sound half bad. I will definitely get the first show up tomorrow. Barring of course, more technical difficulties like saving the file. Or the dreaded uploading of the file. There are many potential obstacles. But now that I’ve figured out the “record” button, it seems like the rest will be gravy. Smooth sailing. Game on.