A moment of silence, brothers and sisters, for my faithful scanner.
Twelve years that beast lasted me. I bought it from a drug dealer in college in my younger, less ethical days* and it traveled across the country half a dozen times and survived each move intact.
Today, it failed to turn on. All the jiggling and replugging and rebooting did not change matters. Mr. Scanny has gone to that great big-box store in the sky.
A buddy of mine has an extra scanner he’d offered me as a backup awhile back, and Kevin’s got one so I can get the last dregs of art scanned before the show. Still, it is a sad, sad day.
Particularly since I may need a goddamn forklift to get it out of my studio. That sucker is HEAVY.
Alas. We will not see its like again. At least, not unless we want to spend a helluva lot of cash.
*This is a true story.