Second Star to the Right

Germany.

Until I was about four years old, I lived in what was then West Germany.  By and large, most people don't have any true memory of this period of their lives.  I've encountered the occasional exception, but generally our minds are something of a sieve.  Every experience is still new, so remarkable moments are few and far between.  We begin to form new ideas, slowly grasp the irrefutable evidence of the world around us, and steadily log this information away in a very binary fashion.

Imagine watching a movie where absolutely everything on the screen is something you've never seen before and don't have any sort of point of reference.  For some reason, you can't assign shape or color to much of what you see, because the items in the film defy any experience you have with these particular concepts.  The setting doesn't seem to make any sort of sense, the laws of physics don't seem to apply, and the characters and dialog are entirely unfamiliar to you.  Oh yeah, and the whole thing is presented in a language you almost understand... but not quite.

Then suddenly, there's something red on the screen, and you're suddenly excited about identifying a color.  When the movie's over (because I'm sure you managed to sit through the whole thing without getting distracted), what do you tell people about it?  "Oh... I don't know.  I didn't really get it... but there was this one moment that I saw red."  That becomes the most memorable thing about it, because it was the one thing you grasped of your own volition.

( So... Germany. )  I don't really remember Germany, of course.  Just a couple of things, that I'm sure were consistent with my emerging grasp on consensual reality.  I remember a big (red? orange?) number on the wall of each floor just outside the elevator (though I don't actually remember the elevator...)  In my mind, the number was huge, much bigger than me.  And I can remember identifying this concept as a number.  That's the point, I think.

There were also some woodlands outside the apartment complex where my mom liked to walk (or had to walk, I don't know which).  I have a vague sort of impression of it imprinted on my cerebral cortex, so I can only assume that it walks hand in hand with some sort of personal revelation, the process of identifying the woods or some element or group of elements therein.

Ironically, the thing I remember most from this period of my life is a sojourn we underwent when I was three years old, when my mother's folks came to visit, to Paris.  Yes, the one in France.  Why do I remember?  I'm glad you asked... Two reasons, I hypothesize.  One, it was different.  I had already begun to adjust enough to the things around me at home, and the trip to Paris represented a massive load of brand new experiences.

But more likely, it's due to the plethora of photographs my parents took when we were there.  I believe that pictures, in this case, were responsible for reinforcing the items that I had absorbed.  I could peruse the photo albums again and again over the years and tie the images into the ideas that already lingered within my shallow memory.  I only remember a couple of things with any clarity at this point:  the hostelry that served as our quarters on the trip (the decor of which was comprised of stark contrasts of white walls with black trim), and the Eiffel Tower.  My grandfather was carrying me, and we went up onto the tower... I don't actually remember the view, but I do remember the tower.  Which is kinda cool.

I love seeing Paris in the movies.  There's always little things that make it feel like someone I once knew.  We had a good time together.  I don't think we're likely to ever meet again.  Even if I was inclined to travel (which depends a great deal more on money than any other factor, since I'd give a lot to drag my family around the world), Paris would actually be quite a ways down the list at this point.

I was four years old when we took a trans-Atlantic flight back to the midwest, where my life slowly began to take shape.  After all... I'm still here, aren't I?

One final thought about the formation of ideas in the earliest stages of our lives.  Do you remember first learning who Superman was?  Or Captain Kirk?  (If you're close to my age or younger, anyway)  I don't.  I've just always known, as far back as I can recall... There must have been a period of introduction.  (I know my parents watched Star Trek pretty religiously in syndication when we lived overseas.)  But I certainly don't have any specific recollection of such.

When I was five, my dad and his sister took me with them to see The Empire Strikes Back.  I can actually remember some consternation at this.  My father insisted that I had seen Star Wars, but I rather obviously had no recollection of it... and yet, there were characters who seemed dreadfully familiar.  Particularly the monolith of the Seventies' most intimidating movie villain, Darth Vader.  He seemed very familiar.  I remember my father just cracking up at my consternation.  Obviously, I was pretty analytical for a five-year-old.

Incidentally, I saw the first movie again when it was re-released a couple of years later, the year before Jedi came out.  Even then there were rumors that George was planning prequels and sequels to the trilogy... well, that kinda worked out.  Eventually.  It had some CGI still dribbling at the edges of its mouth, and spawned a bazillion new hate websites, but you know what? My original memories.... they're still intact.

Having a baby changes your life.  No doubt about it... nothing's ever the same after that.  Many of the changes can be sweeping, real world adjustments; we had to buy a minivan this year, for example.  I didn't really want one, but roulette_ and I both owned pickup trucks.  There was just no way to carry a family around in one vehicle, particularly not with any degree of comfort... much less our "extended" family of household friends.  So now we have a car payment.  Yay.

People often have to make lifestyle adjustments, of course.  Baby's aren't cheap... but despite those things, I hypothesize that the most radical changes are entirely psychological.  They happen on the inside, where decisions are made, where experiences are filtered and information is processed.  Where we feel things, and where our thoughts and fears tend to circulate.  Where we're forced to deal with who we really are and what we really want and how badly we want it... despite whatever face we put on for the people around us.

That our priorities change goes without saying.

Anyway, In light of the events of the past couple of years, I've starting giving some real thought to the kind of life I've led.  I was originally going to blog about something important that's happening in my life right now, but then I realized that it kinda lacked context... because the events that shaped today began happening decades ago.  So I'm going to write about them.  I hope it isn't too annoying... I'll label each post with a subject line that warns you about it, and tag them appropriately in case you're interested... and when they're lengthy, I'll include a cut.

Not to go all dear diary in the midst of my little gems about music and movies and gaming and such... but the things that have made me into who I am today are weighing heavily on mind of late, and I want to re-explore them a bit.

Within reason, of course... *grins*

Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.

Sooo... let's give it a shot:

1. Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien.
2. Eye of the World by Robert Jordan.
3. Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay.
4. Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey
5. Gossamer Axe by Gael Baudino
6. Faith of the Fallen by Terry Goodkind
7. The Neverending Story by Michael Ende
8. The White Dragon by Anne McCaffery
9. Lord Foul's Bane by Stephen R. Donaldson
10. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
11. Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice
12. The Stand by Stephen King
13. The Heritage of Hastur by Marion Zimmer Bradley
14. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
15. Heir to the Empire by Timothy Zahn

Whew.  That was tough!

Your Reality is in my Fantasy...

There's an interesting trend amongst D&D 4E apologists (if you will) to criticize the anti-4E crowd's interest in promoting realism in gaming.  Mind you, I'm not focusing on the "edition war" element of this particular disagreement... No, please - keep your disappointment to yourself.   What I find interesting is how drastically different everyone's tastes tend to be on this particular facet.

Now, I realize that previous editions of D&D weren't exactly built to reflect real-world physics and such... but I'm one of those DMs who likes to build a high level of believability into my games.  The rules of the 3.5 D&D are fairly abstract, and will sometimes create situations with unrealistic qualities... my players understand and accept that I will sacrifice, to a minimal degree, slavish adherence to the rules in order to adjudicate a more realistic result.  Of course, as many argue, a fantasy game with magic and monsters is already built to fly in the face of gritty realism.  I rather obviously take that into account, and work to maintain a feel and flavor consistent with the idea.

Fourth Edition D&D makes no bones about sacrificing a further degree of "realism" to promote a more fluid and "fun" approach to gameplay.  I have no beef with that... the point of the game is to have fun.  But the trend I refer to also includes a number of comments that suggest that people are very critical of the idea of focusing on realism in a fantasy game, sometimes finding the idea incredulous or simply foolish.  Some say that if they had to worry about real-world limitations that they would find the game unpalatable.

This development ties directly into my problems with the new game, where the basic philosophy of gameplay includes the expectation that your "reality" be built around the rules, but that isn't really relevant to the question.  I started thinking about it... why do I want more realism in my games?  It obviously isn't necessary to enjoy the game... some gamers actually seem to find the idea repulsive.  Why should it matter?

So... here's what I've got.

For the style of play that I choose to promote, the players' ability to relate to their characters, to get into their heads and experience the world through their senses and thought processes, is paramount.  The point of creating a world that feels "real", with the wondrous edition of fantastical and mystical elements that make the game what it is, is to create a greater suspension of disbelief.  To make the players more capable of relating to the world that they're working to explore.  It isn't about some perceived lack of creativity or imagination on their part... it's simply a tool to enhance gameplay.  Anytime something happens that snaps a person's attention back from their character's headspace because it's "unrealistic", it disrupts the experience.  Now, I'm not referring to the trappings of magic and such... that's an accepted part of this new reality, so it doesn't violate expectations.

Does that make sense?

I think so.

Last night was Session Fifty-Three of our War of the Burning Sky campaign.  It was basically just one huge boss fight, followed immediately by one of those scenes at the end of a stage where the little yellow timer appears in the corner and the entire structure begins to disintegrate.

I was pretty happy with the session overall, which was a little surprising given the fact that it was 90 percent fight.  With the exception of the two spellcasters, I had character sheets with all of the relevant details prepped for the players and asked them not to set up laptops, so I felt that the focus of the group was fairly solid.  The combat itself turned out to be a tad brief, since the party wizard managed to dispel their opponent's flight and bring her down into reach of the melee combatants, after which the pally laid waste upon her with extreme prejudice.

Ultimately, the woman escaped their grasp, after thoroughly pissing off the PCs, but they beat the hell out of her first.  And her fate was somewhat less than certain, since her escape route was abruptly compromised by the sudden appearance of a tornado that sucked her out of the chamber.  The most fun part was descibing how this huge laboratory full of bio-sludge tanks and dangling hooks and chains became an obstacle course as the heroes ran for safety, trying desperately not to leave any man behind.

It all worked out.  It definitely takes a lot more work to keep the pace of a scene like that from lagging, to keep the focus of the players on the action.  It's exhausting.  I actually shut down the game almost an hour earlier than I usually do, though I awarded them Experience first and they'd garnered enough to earn their next level, so that gave them something to do as roulette_ and I headed off to bed.

I missed my chance to commemorate a couple of benchmarks in this campaign.  I'd intended to make a big deal of Session Fifty and/or the campaign's first-year anniversary, which would have been about Session Forty-Seven.  I'm working on getting my campaign journal up to date... you can read what I have at wbscampaign, though I'm still months behind.

roulette_'s confessed to some rather significant inspiration issues.

For those of you who aren't acquainted with my beloved, she is a writer.  A good one.  She writes character with the kind of completion that makes you feel cheated when a passage comes to a close.  It's refreshing.  I have to admit to a certain disassociation with much of the content of her work, but I do enjoy her characters.

But now she's struggling with Story.  We try and discuss the specifics - plot, conflict, theme, twists - but I think the difficulty has been developing for a good long while and has her frustrated enough to make any idea seem shallow and uninspiring.  It's obviously a difficult place to be as a writer, as an artist of any sort.  Her life has changed so much in the past few years, and I can't help but feel responsible.  When the previous chapter in her life came to a close, her entire support structure and environment utterly transformed.  I know that some of these changes were welcome, and some of them were quite difficult.  And since then, she's altered her professional life, begun a new relationship, had another child, and suffered a series of physical and emotional changes that can't help but impact one's core identity.  And of course, her identity as a writer, her relationship with her work, started before all of that... and has never truly recovered.

I love her very much, and I want her to be happy.

Many of you are writers or artists of some sort.  Where do you go to reconnect with your muse?  What do you do to find inspiration when it's made such an effort to be elusive?  She's helped me in so many ways... even (ironically) inspired me to start writing again.  Anyone have a process?  A checklist?  A weird idea?

I've finally resumed posting updates to my campaign journal over at wbscampaign .  I suddenly realized that the last session I'd written about was from the night before Gabriel was born... which made it pretty easy to figure out just how far behind I was.

*blushes and kicks the dirt*

Feel free to check it out!

Picture this...

Monday night rolls around.  As I've done for the past six or seven years, I crack open my laptop at one end of the table and begin reviewing my material for the evening's gaming entertainment.  In sharp contrast to the DMing tools of yesteryear, I have long since abandoned the stacks of books and papers, DM's screen and even dice for the cool, sleek presence of my portable personal computer.  I have software that provides for the majority of my needs, customizable utilities for character generation and management, combat management, mapping, campaign organization, die rolling and the tracking of various details, rules databases, and PDF rulebooks and adventures and such.

As I sit and prepare myself, my players arrive in ones and twos and add their own laptops to the table.  There are eight of us in total, with everything we need to play right there on the computers.  It's a tight fit... I've intended on more than one occasion to snap a photo of the gaming table so that I could share it here, but given my household's recent purchases it would look a lot like a Toshiba commercial.  The machines are lined up end to end all the way around, as that's the only way they fit.  It's a unique setup, and something I never imagined I'd see a decade ago. 

Now I'm beginning to have second thoughts.  The game has changed so much over the past 20 years... it's transformed from a combat-driven adventure game that revolves entirely around killing monsters and taking their stuff into a complex, character-driven storytelling exercise that revolves around the PCs' interaction with the game world, the NPCs and each other.  At first, utilities that do much of the character management leg work and free the players to focus on other things seem like a no-brainer.

But I look around and see the tops of heads.  When players aren't involved in anything that's going on, they find other things to distract them.  Stacking dice and pouring over spells can't even begin to hold a candle to internet chat sessions and online games.  Even those who don't tend to be so enterprising will find their gazes drawn to their screens rather than anyone or anything else at the table.  Eye contact is at a minimum.  Roleplaying suffers, not for lack of interest, but for lack of inspiration.

Man vs. Machine is a classic fantasy trope.  Even Tolkien's industrialized orcs played a powerful counterpoint to the wood-loving elves and earth-loving hobbits who were portrayed as heroes in his story.  Tales of magic and mysticism always seem to have elements at odds with technology, as if they were competing for the faith and interest of their proponents.  The general idea is that human ingenuity and technological development distracts from an adherence to the natural world and everything it represents.

It somehow seems appropriate that my players are being distracted by their technology and losing touch with the base creativity that makes this hobby of ours so extraordinary.  I'm not saying that it's a game-breaking development, but it definitely affects the "feel" of my game table, the flow of energies that seem to bring vitality and inspiration to the common experience we are so invested in.  The computers are a powerful tool, allowing accurate notation and on-the-fly adjustment of the characters during play, and providing instant access to the many abilities, spells and feats the characters possess.  But they've also become a cold, impersonal presence at the table.  And besides...

... I miss the sounds of rolling dice...

We had a cook-out.  But when we were getting all of our ingredients together, expecting our guests to start showing up at any time, and walking outside to start the fire, we discovered a glaring omission - the grill.  Somebody stole our grill.  It had apparently happened months ago, when we all must have concluded that someone else in the house had returned it to the garage.

So we had to run to Wal-Mart, whilst the players drifted in, and buy another grill.

*throws hands up*  We can't win.

Good morning... It's Memorial Day, but I'm not inclined to dwell on it.  I've got something else on my mind... Memorials Day's Eve.

The weekend was kickin' along pretty casually... had a remote on Saturday, Roulette went to a ball-jointed-doll shindig (which still has me blinking rapidly), and we played a lot of Guild Wars.  Yesterday, Allydhian and I sat down to a friendly game of Rock Band - which is unsurprisingly nothing like the real thing - and discussed his developing relationship issues.  Then he and Roulette spent a couple hours in deep conversation, lounging out in the summery goodness that was our front yard, whilst I kicked a little ass on Empire Earth II.  I took some pictures of Gabriel for his 6-month photo album.  All was well.

Then we left the house.  K-Baby needed a dress for her upcoming 8th-grade graduation, so I put a kidney up for sale and extorted a little extra dough from our roommate, then we went to Kohl's.  Roulette enjoyed the fabulous experience of sharing a pleasant 45 minutes of dress shopping with her daughter, punctuated by occasional shrapnel and the frightened screams of innocent children.  (I wisely remained near the very front of the store with my son, who somehow slept through the entire incident.)  We did manage to emerge from the store with said garment, then promptly took the teenager home.

Roulette and I made our way to Wal-Mart.  On Memorial's Day Eve.  Not as bad as I'd feared... but not exactly a quiet trip to the corner market.  Then, when we were leaving with about $250 in groceries (a light trip, thank the gods!), a friendly fellow motorist makes a point of informing us that one of the tires on our new van appears to be nearly flat.  So I have Roulette pull around to the automotive side of the building (which is, of course, already closed, as it's about 8:30 on a Sunday night), and get out to look.

It's very nearly flat.  I think to myself... Self, I don't think we should drive home on that.  Let's see what we can do...  In retrospect, I wish I'd been a little less introspective at this point.  First, we had to locate the proper accoutraments... we'd never actually seen the jack or the spare tire on this particular vehicle, but we had faith that they would prove easy enough to procure.  *shrugs*  Faith... is not always sufficient.  With a little effort, and a cautious perusal of the manual which came with the vehicle, we got the spare tire from its position beneath the passenger-side rear door (because that makes freakin' sense!) and went about the business of changing the tire.

And promptly dropped the van.  Apparently, there was the slightest of inclines in our position, and although the jack seemed to hold the vehicle very well indead, the jostling necessary to remove the old tire was enough to compromise its stability.  That was a little heart-wrenching, but the damage doesn't seem to be overly severe.  But now we had a new problem... with the van seated firmly on its tire-less wheel, the van was positioned far too low to get the jack under.

I had intermittently attempted to reach Allydhian during this period (he used to work at a tire shop and would have shown a bit more confidence dealing with such things than I was feeling), and now I finally got him.  In a manner very similar to the sending spell, I had something like 25 words to transmit before my phone died.  I wasn't sure how many he got, but I figured he was on his way... so Roulette and I stepped back into Wal-Mart to try and address the immediate issue.  Our groceries waited patiently in the back of the van.

We bought a small hydraulic jack to see if we could position it in a way that would allow us to lift the van sufficiently to get the old jack back in place, and blocks for the rear tires.  (Novel, eh?)  Allydhian arrived shortly thereafter and helped us get it back into the air.  We got the spare tire firmly in place.  We lowered the vehicle.  The tire seemed a little low, but holding... that is, until Roulette started to back up and turn.  Then the spare came completely off the rim.

You ever have one of those moments when you are simply overwhelmed by exhaustion and how ridiculous your situation is, and you just start laughing?  It really wasn't that funny, as Allydhian's irritated glances were quick to inform us, but we couldn't stop giggling.

In the end, we put the original tire back onto the van, after Allydhian drove it down to a nearby Quiktrip and aired it up.  It's working fine now.  We got home at around 11PM and unloaded our groceries.  I don't really remember that part, but I woke up this morning and came in to the office... which is quiet.

All is well.

*headdesk*

Happily, Dollhouse and Chuck have been renewed for the upcoming fall television season, as have Smallville and Supernatural on the CW.  (Though I've never watched the latter, I know people who really love it.)  Of course, several of my favorite shows have ended their run for this season and are in no danger of cancellation... not at all the case for the aforementioned programming. 

The only bitter pill to swallow with FOX's relatively surprising decision to save Dollhouse is that they didn't pay the same courtesy to their other dubiously-rated science-fiction phenom, The Sarah Connor Chronicles.  To be honest, the season 2 finale kinda threw me.  I love the show, but I couldn't honestly say that my expectations for season 3 were overly high after the way they left it hanging.  You'd have to see it to understand.  I'm sure the producers had something cool in mind; I was just concerned about the radical change of direction the move seemed to signify.  Up to that point, however, the show had been truly fantastic, worthy of its place in franchise history.  I had rather expected the upcoming movie release to energize their decision, but apparently the clever execs at FOX whom we know and love have somehow missed the connection, or decided that a blockbuster movie in the same franchise can't possibly regenerate any interest in their show.

Weird.

So I'm looking forward to the future of J.J. Abrams' brainchildren, Lost (season 6) and Fringe (season 2), 24 (assuming last night's season 7 finale was good... I haven't watched it yet, but plan to catch it today on Hulu), season 9 of Smallville (which no one thought would happen), Chuck, Bones (although I'm still catching up on old episodes), and of course, the Whedon-verse's sole survivor at this juncture, Dollhouse.

Ironic, isn't it, that we don't even have cable....

J.J. Abrams has outdone himself! 



Not to sound hysterical about it, but the new Star Trek film is a phenomenal piece of work.  Allydhian and I dropped in on an early showing at the Old Town Warren last night, where they bring the popcorn to your seat, and indulged in a load of Trekkish goodness for upwards of 2 hours and some change.  The movie was, in brief, a masterpiece.

I could see some Trek purists being unimpressed, I suppose.  I've been a fan of the franchise all my life, up to and including Enterprise, but I found myself terribly unfazed by the idea of giving the original series a sort of "reboot" with all new actors and slew of new twists.  What I didn't expect was a script that was so well constructed that it failed to screw up the original continuity in creating a diverted timeline through temporal meddling.  I don't want to say too much, in case you haven't caught any of those kinds of details as yet, but trust me... it's good.  And there are numerous nods, of course, to the original series.  These are the same characters... their lives might have happened a little differently (and certainly shall in the wake of the events of this film), but the movie leaves you anxious for more.  I want to see the further adventures of this new, old cast of heroes.

And there were only TWO moments in the entire movie when some little voice in the back of my head suddenly went "I AM SYLAR!"  And to be fair, those moments weren't Zachary's fault.  His performance as Spock was exemplary.  The script just happened to include a couple of instances where you could definitely see shadows of his television alter ego.

The altered life that these characters lead includes a few surprises, but there's a definite sense of coming together that suggests that some people are just destined for great things regardless of how much you screw with the timeline.  And that's a pretty cool feeling.

This week's bit o' symmetry...:



Yay!!

I'm not necessarily the biggest fan of Wolverine, but Hugh has certainly done the character justice.  And the movie looks like it's gonna be good!  Plenty of action, fight scenes, uber-cool characters and special effects... and with Mr. Jackman on the screen, even Roulette's lookin' forward to it.

*scratches head*  I just don't get that one...

I understand that Gambit will be making an appearance, which is pretty awesome, and I hear that Deadpool is in it... which is just weird.  But Ryan Reynolds is stepping in to that role, and I somehow find myself wondering if they could possibly have found somebody more suited...

Yep!  I'm stoked.

Name a song that reminds you of a specific moment in your life, and elaborate.

Cheers!

Sunday night, I received a call from one of my players - one of my friends - who was stranded in the storm.  His pickup had hit some high water and given up the ghost, and he was languishing on a street corner not more than two or three miles from my house.  The rain was horrid, and many streets had acquired unfortunate river-like tendencies.

It was somewhat between 9 and 9:30... I had retired for the evening, but had yet to fall asleep.  Considering myself the type of person who would certainly venture into the storm to help a friend, despite the fact that it was clearly past my bedtime, I sprung quite like a superhero from the surface of the mattress, summoned forth a relatively sensible outfit from the diverse selection decorating the floor near my side of the bed, and hurried to the batmobile... er... truck.  Given my soggy associate's description of the path which had led to his predicament, I decided upon a more southerly approach, through downtown Wichita.  It proved to be a wise decision.

Driving him home did not.

We were unable to revive his vehicle, so we sought out a circuitous route back into familiar territory - one which didn't require any serious rafting - and proceeded southward on Seneca.  For those of you unfamiliar with the city, this is a fairly major thoroughfare as one travels southward from the Delano district just west of downtown.  Much of Seneca was comparatively quite dry.  Parts of it were not.

I have a four-wheel drive and considerable experience driving in such conditions... so I took it in stride.  Some watery areas had the potential to be treacherous to the unwary, but my pickup was generally high enough and strong enough to keep itself free of the mire, so long as I selected my route with care and kept the vehicle under control.  This worked well until I encountered a fellow motorist who lacked a similar perspective, forcing me to gun it to keep from being struck.  This was the point at which I hammered the truck into deep water.  The vessel was momentarily drenched from stem to sterm, and I pondered the possibility of being capsized while trying desperately to remember where I had stashed the life-vests.

They turned out to be unnecessary.  The truck sputtered and died, but started right back up.  I completed the journey to my associate's domicile on the extreme southern end of town, then paused at the lagoon surrounding he and his neighbors.  This turned out to be my undoing.  With the parking gear engaged, the truck gasped once and slipped into a coma.  Revival proved to be impossible.

I was able to reach Roulette, once she'd emerged from her late evening shower, and talk her into coming for me.  Having assembled a somewhat safer route, now that I had a rather specific idea of her destination, I guided her to my position through the use of very specific telephone instruction and well-timed solar flare activity.  It was quite late by the time I reached home, thankful to be out of the rain at last, and returned to my bed.  I had taken steps to arrange a replacement on the morning broadcast in order to ensure that the program would launch without delay, since I'd had no clear idea how much sleep I'd be getting.

Now... the punchline.  My friend's truck, once it dried, resumed its regular function with little complaint.  Mine... did not.  Furthermore, the front end had suffered some small amount of (largely cosmetic) damage during the journey.  I had to call for a tow, and have it moved to a nearby garage for repair.  Then I had to get home and prep for D&D.  I know where my priorities are.

I know it was towed, but I have yet to receive any further communication from the mechanic...

Remember this, should you ever be faced with a similar opportunity to help a friend in dire need.

Remember it well.

... this little guy...



Have a great weekend!

Heroes is finally getting good again.

Yay!

OR:  What To Do When I Grow Up

Good morning.  I work in radio.  I'm sure this evokes precisely the image one would expect from most people, and it is a relatively accurate one.  I'm not a salesman, a businessman, a promoter, a programmer, an engineer, or an office worker... though all of those things certainly reside at my place of business.  I am, of course, a DJ.  Well... sort of.  I've been a disc jockey, a technician, even a manager of operations (did that for several years!), but right now I'm really more of a producer.  I do a couple of air shifts, which are fun... but mostly I make commercials and put programs on the air.  Nothing overly glorious... just a cog in the machine, really.  It's a great place to be.

But I'm not certain that the same can be said for the industry as a whole.

I've noticed a trend of late... mounting evidence that inevitable change is poised to roll right over the existing "old world" media in its entirety.  Radio, television, and expecially print... it's practically archaic.  Is it over?  Not yet.  Probably not by a long shot.  But it is endangered.  Because it's corporate.  It's expensive.  It's teetering on the edge of ruin.

I like being dramatic.

Print (newpapers, magazines) and broadcasting (radio, tv) are basically part of the same industry: marketing.  We're in advertising.  The medium itself is a means to an end... a delivery system for the core product.  It's all about money.  And radio's got it the worst, though it's proliflc enough to persevere.  Radio is FREE.  We don't charge a thing to listen.  Other vital entertainments - newspaper, cable television, World of Warcraft - they have subscription fees.  My dad used to run a number of cable systems... he always said that the advertising was just gravy.  Their real customers were the end user.

I no longer have cable, though I still subscribe to the internet.  Which is with my local cable company... so I guess they're doing something right.

I must ponder.  More of a discussion will be forthcoming... I'm needed in production.  Go figure.

I look so stoned.  I wasn't.  Honest.

Of course, I also take up about a third of the frame...

The point is... this is the new band.  Tentatively called First of Dawn.  Our sound is pretty earthy... bluesy, alternative rock-style.  We have a few very talented songwriters, and at least six very talented musicians.  We currently have about a six-month rehearsal plan before playing out anywhere... which is fine with me.  Lots of original material to polish up.

We're currently jamming every Thursday night at Geoff's place in Belle Plain, with occasional acoustic sessions at my house on Tuesdays.  Wish us luck!

It's Tuesday...

* I was late to work this morning.  After 12 years in radio, that's only the third time I've been late to an air shift... and the second time since Gabriel was born!  Roulette thinks I may just be sleeping harder than I used to, but I didn't get a lot of sleep last night as it is.

* For three weeks now, we've talked about doing housework over the weekend that never seems to get started.  We just don't find the energy and motivation when we've got the time.  Ironically, we got Allydhian involved yesterday afternoon, and once he got started he accomplished a great deal in a relatively short time.  We still have a lot to do, but it's looking so much nicer...

* I'm hoping to have a couple of band members over to the house this evening for a little impromptu jam.  We just can't seem to get everything we need to out of our once-a-week Thursday night rehearsals.  To make things worse, we have one or two rehearsals left before our singer Joel leaves for the desert for four months, deployed by his USAF employers... it's a real bummer.  We've got a bunch of old songs we're polishing up, and a couple of new pieces... I'm looking forward to seeing what we've got together by the time he gets back and we start getting ready for our first gig, tentatively slated for this November.

* My friend Taluun's relationship finally imploded on him yesterday.  He's miserable.  I tend to think that it was inevitable, what with the progress of their relationship up to that point... she just wasn't ready.  I think Taluun would have been good for her in the long run, but I had strongly begun to suspect that she wasn't overly good for him.  Sometimes, it takes people years to heal from the baggage that they carry from one relationship to the next... sometimes they never do.  *sigh*

* I have got to take steps to ensure a more reasonable starting time for our Monday night D&D games.  People just aren't showing up at a decent time...

Thank you for listening.