By DAVID GREEN
Two years ago I started making silly videos and posting them on YouTube. Then, about a year and half later, I stopped.
I sometimes wonder about this—why it started, why it ended. I suppose it started when I bought a little Flip video camera, but why did it stop? I’m not so sure. I used to carry the Flip with me at all times and now I never do, so I guess it’s just not on my mind much anymore.
I also ran out of equipment from the back of the Observer office to show off. After losing my hand in the paper cutter, smashing a finger on the proof press, suffering electrocution via the Linotype, etc., there was nothing more to feature.
I used to make a video every Tuesday night after addressing the newspapers to highlight stories from the new edition of the paper. Maybe that’s what killed it off. They were often quite boring and it became a drag to create one and process it every week instead of simply going home after the long weekly battle ended.
I suppose it wouldn’t take too much of an effort to start in again and revive Vudley’s Channel on YouTube. I even have notes for future videos somewhere and an actual script for something silly with the neighbor girls.
Even though I haven’t done much lately—let me take a look; 163 total, but only six in the last six months—I’m still reminded of them now and then when I receive notice of a comment left by a viewer.
The very first comment came after I posted the second video ever, the one about the Observer’s big paper cutter. “Is it harder to edit videos with one hand now?” asked a viewer from Pettisville.
Then came a surprising one. On the way to Fayette one day, I stopped at the always-flowing artesian well on U.S. 20 and filmed myself taking a drink of that interesting water. For some odd reason, that video has been watched more than 4,200 times.
Here’s the one comment from all those views: “There’s several where I live in South Carolina. Thanks for sharing.”
I made a stupid little video called “Death by Snuggie” after someone gave me one of those body blankets as a joke. That was followed by the comment: “What a homo.”
I think the short video called “Too Much Fiber” deserves comment, but all it got was one of those keyboard emoticons: 0____0. I’m not even sure what that one is saying.
The Linotype accident brought a serious comment: “Thanks for this video. I did both handsetting and ran the linotype at Chicago’s Lane Technical High School in the 1970’s. Hot lead... very impressive machinery.”
Take a Minute for Poetry: “Never seen this side of you Mr. Green, glad I only see it on my computer screen!!!”
The Drain is Plugged Again: “Um, David, the sink is not a garbage disposal.”
Morenci Battle of the Bands: 11 comments; few can be published here.
The mausoleum tour at the cemetery resulted in some interest about what’s inside the Hunt mausoleum.
A video about finding a geocache near my granddaughter’s diaper resulted in a few comments, at least two from England.
The comment that really surprised me arrived just two weeks ago—almost exactly two years after I made a stupid video about the difficulty of getting all the kefir out of a container.
Kefir might be described as a tangy, liquid yogurt that tastes too good to waste a drop. I only drink it from a saucer or shallow bowl so I can lick it clean, like a cat might do. Then, when it’s gone, I have to cut open the plastic bottle to reach every last vestige.
That video has been viewed more than 500 times and that comment just recently arrived—from someone who posts videos about Jesus and about scantily clad women—suggested that I use a rubber spatula.
The best one—posted by a viewer with a lot of Middle Eastern videos—suggested “how about pouring some water or milk into the empty container, shake it/swirl it around, then drink or decant the liquid. I find that you can get virtually all the kefir out that way.”
Once I learned about “decanting the liquid,” I decided this might be worth a try. Maybe I can make a centrifuge with a lazy susan. The things you learn on YouTube.