#2 in a Series Memorable Mishaps: To Err is Human, To Admit It is Divine by Asim Matin I've heard that the only way to learn the Avid is to be baptized by fire. If the flames don't kill you, they make you stronger. This is a story of some flames that made me wiser. It was my second show as an Avid assistant and my first pilot. For those of you who don't work in television, that means that there was a lot of work, no time and I was the only assistant. Adding to the mayhem was the producers' last-minute decision to do a temp dub and a temp online for the network screening. After the editor finished cutting, I output a tape to be dubbed for the sound house. At 11 p.m. the wonderful "Digital Cut Complete" dialogue box popped up. I was half asleep and decided not to double-check the tape. What could go wrong? I thought. After all, I was only outputting. The next day, the sound house called to say that the EDL and the tape weren't lining up. The show just wouldn't stay in sync. What? How could that be? I was POSITIVE the tape must have been dubbed wrong, so I checked the original and discovered that it had timecode drift. Now that I knew it wasn't a dubbing error, I was sure the drift was the Avid's fault, a mantra I kept repeating to myself. We called for an Avid tech and when he showed up we ran a battery of tests, with no luck. Then, at midnight, I noticed the pulldown switch was set to 1.00. I thought it only affected digitizing; well, we discovered the hard way that it also affects outputting! I flipped the switch to .99, output a corrected tape, checked it, and sent it to dubbing. The sound house would have a new tape in the morning, exactly one day late. The problem was solved, but the next morning you can guess what hit the fan. The executive producer was furious that we lost a day of sound editing. Everyone wanted to know what went wrong with the Avid. What could I do? Being bleary eyed with exhaustion seems to have a sodium-pentathol-like affect on the mind, so I told the truth: It was not a computer error. It was a pilot error because of my ignorance, compounded by my negligence of not double-checking my work. I closed with, "It was my fault, and I take full responsibility for my actions." My earnestness left an impression on the director, editor, post supervisor and producer. The executive producer had a different take. "Well, if it was your fault, then I'm not gonna pay your overtime for correcting it." Before I could respond, the four others went to the mat for me and told the executive producer that he would pay my OT. No one is infallible, and they were impressed by my willingness to admit my error in a crisis. The producer called me a mensch. I learned that the schnook will run away, point fingers and go down cowering. The mensch will stand up and be held accountable for his actions. I'm only human. I've made mistakes before, and you know what? I'll make them agian again. Have you made a mistake that you're willing to share? Let us know about it and spread the wisdom of learning by doing. Call the Newsletter editor with your story, or send it via email   Reprinted from The Motion Picture Editors Guild Newsletter Vol. 20, No. 1 - Jan/Feb 1999   Guild Home | Newsletter Home | Top of Page   Copyright © 1999, All Rights Reserved by The Motion Picture Editors Guild, IATSE Local 700