No letup...

Yesterday went by in a sort of slow-motion blur.

I went in to open the store, but Drew was already there. After a couple of hours, I went home to translate a quick item and finished and invoiced the French translations. Then I went back to the store and helped finish the day.

That's the story of my life, these days.

Today wasn't much different, except I had no translation deadline. When I came home at a little after 2 pm, I lay down and went right to sleep, only to be awakened a little over an hour later and asked to come in and help with processing UPS packages. The issue was in question until the last minute, and I actually finished processing the last package a few minutes after the UPS guy had showed up to collect the day's haul.

I turned down a short editing job earlier today, because of a super-short turnaround time. On the other hand, antoher French document has showed up in the email, with a somewhat longer lead time, although I haven't yet actually looked at the text.

My entire visa application package, which included a AIDS-free certificate for the Russian Embassy and a request to the U.S. Passport Office to increase the number of pages in my passport, arrived at the client's office today. If I read the passport application papers correctly, there's a chance I might get an entirely new passport, one of the new models with the RFID chip that's supposed to make us all feel safer. (If I do, I plan to carry it in a metal case, to protect the contents from being bent and/or immersed, of course.)

Galina and I watched Deal Or No Deal last nght, hosted by Howie Mandel. The point of the show is as simple as it gets, since it pits the player's greed (and input from friends and family) against the laws of probability. It goes something like this: There are 26 suitcases on stage containing signs ranging in value from $0.01 to $1 million. These are, of course, distributed among the cases randomly.

The game starts with the contestant picking one suitcase, which is brought to the stage and placed on a pedestal. The contestant then picks six cases, which are opened to reveal the signs within. Based on what signs are revealed, an offer of a certain sum of money is made to the contestant, who is faced with the choice of taking the offer and ending the game, or refusing the offer. If the offer is refused, a certain additional number of cases (five in the second round) are chosen and the contents revealed.

If this was a written description of a computer program, we'd have a GOTO statement, back to the part where an offer is made to the contestant. The game continues until the contestant either takes what's offered or ends up with what was in the case chosen at the start of the game.

The interest lies with how the offer changes as more information is revealed. In the case of the SWAT officer from Las Vegas last night, it came down to there remaining three unknown sums: $750,000, $400,000, and $25. When the offer hit something like $390,000, the officer took the deal, which was a good thing, because both remaining suitcases on the stage represented the big money; the case chosen intially was for the $25 prize.

What I found interesting about this is that ultimately, the game is governed purely by chance, and all the "banker" (the shadowy fellow who makes the offers) has to do is make sure the odds favor the house to stay ahead in the long run. (Then again, in the long run, the show gives away money. Then again, the show encourages the audience to use SMS to enter a contest, at $0.99 a pop per entry. Go figure.)

Enough rambling. I must go see what's due tomorrow.

Cheers...

Observations about the business...

Interpretation is one of those businesses where, if you have an inclination for it, you can get in ankle deep before going for the whole immersion treatment. I started my "career" simply by hanging out with some of the new immigrants while I was at college, helping them here and there with ordinary tasks, such as bickering with landlords. Later, I got a job as a local "escort" interpreter for the Hurok organization back in the day when having the Moiseev dance company in the country was a big deal, and there really wasn't much to do.

I suppose you can do the same thing in the translation end of the business, too, but it's harder. Here, tiptoeing means doing translations on your own, and unless you have a specific inclination or interest, or happen to be marvelously disciplined, the result is likely to be haphazard.

In a way, being a paid translator or intepreter is a little like being a public "computer consultant," where your bread and butter consists of a stream of people with predictable problems: hardware and software upgrades, virus and malware scans, and just "making it work." It's one thing when you're just a friend or a neighbor, because ultimately, if things don't work out, you can shrug your shoulders, smile, and be on your way. As a paid performer, though, you've got to get results!

That's the whole deal in about any endeavor: as soon as you land a paying job, you've got a tiger by the tail.

In that regard, the recent French work has been of enormous benefit, and I expect that benefit to repercuss down the road.

Cheers...