Apr
17
Final Cut Studio 6 and Final Cut Server are the next logical step in Apple’s bid to become the HD editing solution of choice for everyone from the freelance editor to the broadcast news monolith.
Sporting a new feature set and several core technologies acquired in recent purchases, Final Cut Studio 6 appears to have made the huge jump from professional also ran to serious contender. Time will tell if Apple can make a major dent in the emerging HD broadcast arena, but from a workflow standpoint, most of the previous barriers and limitations have been addressed.
Final Cut Server is an exciting new cross-platform offering that will allow users with massive asset collections to manage them on multiple machines across a network, and even do basic editing and export. Talk about a much needed addition to the Final Cut Family. And its ability to serve single files to multiple workstations (a-la Avid’s Unity system) is sure to shake up the purchasing plans of large corporate customers planning multiple FCS seats. At US$999 it could turn out to be a stroke of genius.
The new color correction and manipulation program - simply called Color - is a very nice addition and the much improved integration between applications in the suite is huge. Apple has made it incredibly easy to hop from program to program, treating your projects and clips quickly and completely. Compressor 3 sports export settings for all the latest toys including AppleTV, the iPod and mobile phones.
There is so much outstanding new stuff in Final Cut Studio 6 that it’s hard to quantify in a weblog. Suffice it to say that with a slew of hot new features and a very compelling price point, Apple has taken a huge step toward becoming the quintessential editing solution for just about every serious, budget conscious video outlet.
Apr
8
Dogfish Head Fort - Berry-licious!
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We have this great beer place in my neighborhood called the Foodery. They have a deli and beers. That’s pretty much it. What makes the it such a great place is that you can grab a six-pack carrier and build your own. If you’re a beer lover, this is the place for you. It’s also a bit pricey. I paid $27 for a six pack one night. Yikes! Amazing brew has its price.
Last week I was in there browsing the selections and I came across a quart-size bottle of an interesting looking brew from Dogfish Head, the incredible craft brewer from Milton, Delaware. It’s called Fort and it’s nice! It’s sour like a barley wine with a splash of Framboise. Dogfish Head produces Fort every December with “a ton of raspberries.” They claim it ages like wine but I think it’s just fine as it is.
I’m really not much of a barley wine fan - it’s a little too strong and not hoppy enough for my taste. However, I find Fort to be really drinkable and not overly sweet. The hint of raspberry is done just right. It’s best suited for occasional sipping and it’s definitely not for Friday night edge removal.
Apr
3
The Best Haircut You’ve Never Had
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If you ever find yourself a little shaggy in the Sunshine State, may I suggest a trip to the Mecca of barbershops. Bug your slab to the Roma 6 Hairstylists on Sunrise Boulevard in Fort Lauderdale and ask for Rocco. This was my good fortune on a chilly day in early February of this year, shortly after my arrival in Florida for Super Bowl XLI.
When I left PHL it was something like 30 degrees, balmy for February but still cool enough to allow for reasonable hair cioffage. My “do” was getting really long but there had been virtually no humidity for months so a little butch wax kept me looking reasonably well groomed. When we touched down in Florida, however, the temperature hit the mid-80s and so did my hairstyle. The outrageous tropical humidity sent my look from slicked-back hipster to suburban rapist in seconds. It was frightening.
As soon as I checked into the hotel I decided to get directions from the concierge and walk to the nearest tonsorial artist. I had no idea what I was in for. I grinned as I walked past the spinning barber pole in the little strip mall across from the Galleria Mall. Inside were several happy patrons being groomed by a pleasant staff lead by a man who was clearly the boss of the operation.
Rocco Testa is a throwback. He’s old school. A ball breaker. He’s from an era when men were men and the straight razor ruled. He manages his staff and customers in a precision ballet of grunts and gestures, snips and clips. He’s the man and he’s good.
I didn’t ask for him but when it came time for my cut, he told me to get into the chair and so I did. He seemed to embrace me and my fright wig as a his own personal and professional challenge. And it became the finest haircut of my life.
His shop is decorated will all sorts of Italian tackle. Near the entrance, a poster of the Italian Championship Soccer Team, wedged in one corner of his mirror, a postcard of a Ferrari and plastered above the cash register, a pizza parlor placard with a big pepperoni pie. A small nameplate reads “Rocco di Roma”.
As I nestled into the chair, Rocco grabbed his four foot Italian flag and gave it a sharp snap, scattering the stubborn clippings of a previous client. He tied the pole-end of the flag snugly around my neck and I could feel the cool brass grommets.
I told Rocco to do whatever he wanted to do, short of shaving it all off. He asked, “How long since-a-you last cut?” He guessed 6 months and I told him eight. As I explained that the Florida humidity had rendered my current cut inoperable he assured me that his vision was excellent for an older man and that I should concentrate on not disturbing the maestro.
Rocco proceeded to administer the finest haircut ever, complete with the showmanship of hand claps, grand gestures, soothing balms and hot foam. I sucked on my fear of straight razors as he sharply removed the suds and underlying stubble. My jugular was spared. In fact, there was no discomfort of any kind. When he began trimming my goatee with electric clippers I started laughing. This kind of service for fourteen bucks made me giddy.
He loosened the flag and finished up with a talc brush around the neckline and then did that cool thing with two mirrors where you can see the back of your head. I love that.
As I rose from the hot-seat, Rocco pointed out the wads of hair that had comprised my previously scary-ass wig. I told him that this had been a religious experience and that no one else could ever cut my hair again. He joked that I was good for another 8 months. It may be longer if I don’t get to Florida again.