Of all things in my life I've endured ridicule over, playing Dungeons & Dragons has earned me the most. I've never let it rub me the wrong way, because it's mostly just playful ribbing. Of course, there is the obligitory shouting of "Nerd!", speaking to me in a pitch-shifting voice that mimics a young man in the midst of puberty, simulating pushing a pair of glasses up on the nose, and even flashing me the Vulcan greeting that generally is followed by the infamous, well-wishing proverb, "Live long and prosper" (not sure what that has to do with medieval fantasy, but amusing). I laugh along with those who dish it out. Hey, it's funny. What can I say?
I started playing around the age of fourteen. The first time I really played was during one of my birthday parties. I remember my mom had inexplicably allowed me to invite around ten friends over. Very, very generous of her. One of the guys (who is still one of my best friends to this day) informed me that he had brought his D&D books along with him. He'd given mention of the game several times and how much he was sure I'd enjoy it. I'd never been opposed to the idea, but it was always just the two of us. One person running the game and a lone player was a little on the lame side. This was a perfect time to bring it out because we had enough people to get a pretty good group together.
The idea of playing was suggested later in the night when we had become bored of whatever it was we were doing. A few of the guys immediately laughed and looked at me as if I couldn't possibly be serious. One of the guys declined immediately and refused any further discussion on the topic. I worked on the rest of them and eventually we had about five players. Six including the DM (Dungeon Master!). The DM handed out pencils and sheets with lines upon lines of information to fill out. What are all of these numbers? What does it all mean? Then he pulled out a bag of dice. Until this point, I'd seen one type of dice. It had six sides with black dots to denote the number it had landed on. These were all different colors and some were even transparent. There were four, six, eight, ten, twelve, and twenty-sided die. You had to choose a race (human, elf, dwarf, gnome, halfling, half-elf, or half-orc) and a class (fighter, barbarian, paladin, wizard, sorcerer, rogue, ranger, cleric, druid, or bard). I chose a dwarf cleric for my first ever character. It seemed fitting. I was short and stocky and the idea of smiting the undead with holy power seemed appealing to me. The DM explained the rules and helped us set up our characters. The actual game set up ended lasting much longer than the actual game play.
The DM gave us a setting for our adventure and a scenario involving a quest, which we would be employed to complete. The game allows the player free range to do anything they want. There are no limitations on your decisions, but there are always consequences. It wasn't ten mintues into the game before some of the guys had stopped taking it seriously and were taking full advantage of this freedom. One of my friends had opted for a halfling character. This became a distracting entertainment piece after someone had called him "peck", which was a reference to the little people in the movie, Willow. Eventually, the friend playing the halfling grew tired of being called a "peck", which was always followed by uproarious guffaws from those participating and spectators alike. The "peck" decided he wanted to attack the rogue after the rogue attempted to steal from him. The rogue defended himself and the "peck" was bested in the end. This resulted in the person playing the "peck" becoming quite angry that his character was dead and he was ousted from the game. His tantrum took all focus from the game and it eventually deteriorated. The next thing I knew, we were in the garage having a chugging competion with pitchers of water. I guess a water chugging contest required less thought and cooperation.
For most of the guys, this was the first and last game of D&D they ever played. Not me. I still play occasionally. I have always really enjoyed it. The friend who introduced me to the game and a regular group of three to four guys have gotten together about once a week for years now. We used to never miss a beat and play at each gathering. I can remember putting the kind of attention into writing a game you might find a writer putting into a novel. We've always kept it casual throughout. We've never gone as far as L.A.R.P. (Live Action Role Playing) or anything and we've always made plenty of time for conversation that breaks role during the game. Sadly, gaming night has slowly given way to a typical guy's night and it's more of a time for sports talk, Euchre, music, beer, and the occasional cigar. A couple of the boys have moved far enough away that it's not convenient to get together so often. I do admit, World of Warcraft conversation will enter the mix from time to time with the remaining crew, so technically we've still kept it nerdy.
I haven't always been this blatantly open about playing D&D and games like it. In high school, I was on the football and baseball team and played in a rock band. I hung out with jocks, nerds, and stoners alike. It was just my way. I could find something I liked about any personality type and I participated in activities with each group. I'd play sports with the jocks, party with the stoners, and talk Star Wars and such with the nerds. But the fact that I was into Role Playing Games was kept hidden. I guess I was ashamed of it. There have been people in my life who I have known for years before I mentioned that I played around them. It was as if it were some dark secret that I didn't want just anyone to know. Of course, the reaction has usually been about what I expect... surprise and laughter. Go ahead, yuk it up. Those "nerds", out of all the people I ran around with in high school, are some of the only friendships I've retained from that period. Those that engaged in thie hobbies that I was embarrasssed to admit I was in to turned out to be the most loyal. I had no problem showing my jock side or hoodlum side. But even though I have no problems with anyone in those repsective groups I hung around with, there are probably only one or two guys that I still have contact with. As the years have progressed, though I still love sports and enjoy my beer fueled gatherings, the geek lifestyle has won out. I even wrote a song dedicated to D&D called "Ambushed" that was played regularly in two of my bands, The Mark (named after the Riddermark in Lord of the Rings) and Figher Down!. Oh yeah, I've immersed myself in it.
Overall, D&D has gotten a bad rap. It promotes creativity, demands critical thinking, requires the use of mathematical skills, and most of all, keeps friends hanging out together. It also invites plenty of new friends into the fold. If your feeble little mind can ward off the taint of satan (we all know this game was created by the devil and Gary Gygax was merely the vessel that unleashed this tool of brainwash and destruction upon the oblivious and unwilling earth... just Google "Jack Chick tracts plus Dungeons & Dragons" to learn more), I think almost anyone could find enjoyment in it. The biggest problem with D&D is there is no room for shyness and no room for being self-concious. One must have at least a scrap of attention span or trying to play this game is hopeless. Okay, it's not for everyone. My wife wouldn't be caught dead participating (she's my polar opposite in this respect). But there isn't anything wrong with this game or games like it, nor is there anything wrong with those who play them.
The fact of the matter is, dork life is fun. A nerd is absolutely never bored. With all the sci-fi/fantasy/horror movies and novels, board games like Risk, the History Channel, National Geographic Channel, Discovery Channel, anime, video games, graphic novels, technology, Gen-Con, etc... there is always something to pique a nerd's interest! Go ahead and twiddle your thumbs while declaring, "I'm bored." I'll either be watching a documentary on something Theological or related, reading about gunslingers trying to reach a dark tower, or logging in online to join my friends in saving the world (of Warcraft). It's a good life. Not everyone may want to take part in it, but as the saying goes, "Don't knock it until you try it."
Recently, even sports has thrown its hat in the nerd ring with surging popularity of fantasy sports games. Yep, that's right. If you play fantasy sports, you are a nerd. Ok, just sit down and take a deep breath. It's going to be fine, I promise. Embrace it and own it. Now go check the waiver-wire, you Melvin.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday's Gone
There was a time when Tuesday was my favorite day of the week. That seems odd for a guy like me who doesn't respond well to fulfilling the obligation of going to work or, at the time period I'm referring to, school. Sure, everyone loves Friday. For most of us, it's the end of the work week. Whether that end comes for your job or the classroom, it's a universally cherished day (not for servers or mall workers though. Fridays really suck for them). Saturday is great because it's the first full day off of the weekend (again, not the best day for servers and mall workers). It's generally a day where couples will go out for dinner and a movie, or maybe a group of friends will hit the bars for a few drinks and laughs. Sundays are nice, too. Some like to go to church. Others like to sleep until noon and just lay around all day doing nothing. Sunday in the fall means football.
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. All great days. So why Tuesday?
Tuesday was a day for new musical releases. Probably still is. I wouldn't know anymore.
I can remember being in high school on a Tuesday knowing one of my favorite bands had an album coming out. I would think about it all day. I'd sit in the classroom, not listening to a thing my teacher was saying. I did at least give the appearance that I was taking notes. But if you were to open up my notebook at that time, you'd maybe find about two lines of notes that were related to a lesson. The rest would be top twenty lists of my favorite bands, lists of songs, lists of songs from a particular band, hand written guitar tabs, and lyrics that I'd written. On these certain Tuesdays to which I continue to refer, I'd usually be ranking my favorite songs performed by whatever band had a release that day.
When it hit three o'clock, I'd bolt for the parking lot. I'd hop in my red 1985 Camaro Z28 (or beg my mom to take me to the mall after I got off the bus prior to having my driver's lisence) and head for the exit faster than I probably should have in a school parking lot. The mall was only about a ten minute drive from the school, but it would feel much longer. I'd curse at every red light and tail-gate anyone going the speed limit or under. During the drive, I'd constantly glance at my tape deck with disgust. I liked this car, but it didn't have a CD player. This created a major dilemma. "Do I get the CD or the cassette? Of course the CD is better quality, but if I get the CD, I can't listen to it until I get home!" Ultimately, patience would win and I'd always go for the CD. I'm a guy who likes to progress with the times tech-wise. Cassette tape? In 1996? Pfft. Yeah, right. I'd hand over my hard earned (HA!) money and claim my prize.
With album in hand I'd park and jog to the door. I'd barely acknowledge my mom and head straight to the bedroom. Next came the unwrapping of the cellophane. Wretched stuff. It just prolonged the process. After getting past the wrapping, of course there would be that stupid sticker on the edges of the case. I could just pull the it open, but that would risk cracking the jewel case! Frustrated, I'd pick the corner of the sticker with my short fingernails until I could finally get a grip and pull it off. Finally, there's the disc. I'd pop it in the player, start from track one (NO SKIPPING AROUND) and listen to it straight through while lying on my bed, reading the insert. It was blissful. A pure joy.
Where did that go?
As I've stated, I like to progress with the times. Now when I want music, I either enter a credit card number in iTunes online, or purchase $25 iTunes card from a store. I just download it and load it into my iPod. I haven't purchased many physical albums in the past few years. The most recent is Diamond Eyes by the Deftones. I just happened to be in Best Buy.
I used to have jewel cases and cd books all around. Cases strewn about the floor board of the passenger side and back seat. Now, I have this little gadget that contains every album I own. It's so efficient. The stupid little thing sounds great in my car through the auxillary port, too. I even have a docking station that's replaced my CD player for the house. I just plug the little hunk of metal with a screen into the dock and press play. It's nice. I really do enjoy this new way of listening to music. But as far as purchasing music, like one particular blues legend sang, "The Thrill is Gone".
Sure, I could recapture it and run to town every time a new release hits the shelf, but why? Laziness always wins out. Or if you prefer a kinder, gentler term for it, convenience is always the victor (yeah, those two words are quite related) . All good things must come to an end at some point. I'm not going to be one of those guys who hang on to the past ("I only buy vinyl") and consider themselves "retro-cool". Besides, it's fun to let one way of doing things fade into another. It creates memories... nostalgia. I absolutely love it when something triggers nostalgic feelings in me. If I didn't progress, would those feelings hit me as often? I don't think so.
Yep. I'm gonna stick with the iPod way of doing things. Besides, the despicable music industry doesn't deserve the time and effort it takes for me to drive to a store. But that's for another blog...
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. All great days. So why Tuesday?
Tuesday was a day for new musical releases. Probably still is. I wouldn't know anymore.
I can remember being in high school on a Tuesday knowing one of my favorite bands had an album coming out. I would think about it all day. I'd sit in the classroom, not listening to a thing my teacher was saying. I did at least give the appearance that I was taking notes. But if you were to open up my notebook at that time, you'd maybe find about two lines of notes that were related to a lesson. The rest would be top twenty lists of my favorite bands, lists of songs, lists of songs from a particular band, hand written guitar tabs, and lyrics that I'd written. On these certain Tuesdays to which I continue to refer, I'd usually be ranking my favorite songs performed by whatever band had a release that day.
When it hit three o'clock, I'd bolt for the parking lot. I'd hop in my red 1985 Camaro Z28 (or beg my mom to take me to the mall after I got off the bus prior to having my driver's lisence) and head for the exit faster than I probably should have in a school parking lot. The mall was only about a ten minute drive from the school, but it would feel much longer. I'd curse at every red light and tail-gate anyone going the speed limit or under. During the drive, I'd constantly glance at my tape deck with disgust. I liked this car, but it didn't have a CD player. This created a major dilemma. "Do I get the CD or the cassette? Of course the CD is better quality, but if I get the CD, I can't listen to it until I get home!" Ultimately, patience would win and I'd always go for the CD. I'm a guy who likes to progress with the times tech-wise. Cassette tape? In 1996? Pfft. Yeah, right. I'd hand over my hard earned (HA!) money and claim my prize.
With album in hand I'd park and jog to the door. I'd barely acknowledge my mom and head straight to the bedroom. Next came the unwrapping of the cellophane. Wretched stuff. It just prolonged the process. After getting past the wrapping, of course there would be that stupid sticker on the edges of the case. I could just pull the it open, but that would risk cracking the jewel case! Frustrated, I'd pick the corner of the sticker with my short fingernails until I could finally get a grip and pull it off. Finally, there's the disc. I'd pop it in the player, start from track one (NO SKIPPING AROUND) and listen to it straight through while lying on my bed, reading the insert. It was blissful. A pure joy.
Where did that go?
As I've stated, I like to progress with the times. Now when I want music, I either enter a credit card number in iTunes online, or purchase $25 iTunes card from a store. I just download it and load it into my iPod. I haven't purchased many physical albums in the past few years. The most recent is Diamond Eyes by the Deftones. I just happened to be in Best Buy.
I used to have jewel cases and cd books all around. Cases strewn about the floor board of the passenger side and back seat. Now, I have this little gadget that contains every album I own. It's so efficient. The stupid little thing sounds great in my car through the auxillary port, too. I even have a docking station that's replaced my CD player for the house. I just plug the little hunk of metal with a screen into the dock and press play. It's nice. I really do enjoy this new way of listening to music. But as far as purchasing music, like one particular blues legend sang, "The Thrill is Gone".
Sure, I could recapture it and run to town every time a new release hits the shelf, but why? Laziness always wins out. Or if you prefer a kinder, gentler term for it, convenience is always the victor (yeah, those two words are quite related) . All good things must come to an end at some point. I'm not going to be one of those guys who hang on to the past ("I only buy vinyl") and consider themselves "retro-cool". Besides, it's fun to let one way of doing things fade into another. It creates memories... nostalgia. I absolutely love it when something triggers nostalgic feelings in me. If I didn't progress, would those feelings hit me as often? I don't think so.
Yep. I'm gonna stick with the iPod way of doing things. Besides, the despicable music industry doesn't deserve the time and effort it takes for me to drive to a store. But that's for another blog...
Friday, October 22, 2010
The Big Three-Oh
So, I turned 30 about a month ago. I know. It's so old. I've never been intimidated by the prospect of reaching this monumental age. I feel the same physically I did five years ago (actually, I probably feel healthier than I did five years ago. I lost fifty pounds between April 2008 and January 2009. I've managed to gain fifteen back... oops!). Durning my mid-twenties, I began to hear stories of "revelations" and "freak outs" as the age approached or shortly after it arrived. I would think to myself, 'not me, it's just another year.' I proved myself right, for the most part. I don't have any feelings of depression. I don't feel old in the slightest. But I would be lying if I said there weren't a few inklings of anxiety whilst lying in bed, assessing the current state of my life.
"What have I accomplished, really?"
"Am I as far along in life as I thought I'd be ten years ago?"
"Shouldn't I already have found my career?"
"Shouldn't I already have children?"
"Does any of this crap that has been important to me throughout my twenties really matter?"
Yeah... that stuff.
I realize we live in a different time. I realize people aren't getting married as young and are having children at a later age. Hell, I got married at 22 and the reaction I most often get is, "Wow! That's young!" It's an odd thing.
My parents were married in 1977 at ripe old age of 18. When I was 18, I was quite single and didn't have much on my mind other than who I was going to find to illegally purchase alcohol for me on the weekend. I worked as a projectionist/shift manager at a movie theater making $6.05 per hour. I did go away to college in Evansville for one full year. Yeah... didn't work out.
My mother gave birth to me at 23 and gave birth to my sister less than two years later. By the time she turned 25, she had two children and had been married for seven years. When I was 25 I was plugging around Kokomo and Indianapolis on most weekends in a thrash metal band, still partying with friends every weekend, serving at a restaurant, and having the guys over to play Dungeons & Dragons once a week. I did take some online classes at Ivy Tech for a while, though. Yeah... didn't work out.
Now I'm 30. By the time my mother and father turned 30, I was already in first grade and playing little league baseball. Dad was working his way up the ladder towards an engineering career (sans college degree, might I add). As of now, I'm working at a call center. I spend the better part of my day getting cursed at and getting told where to go when I die all for answering the phone and reading from a computer screen. Rather than thinking of advancing up the ladder, I spend my day brainstorming a plan for getting out of that God-forsaken place. But I must admit, I'm all talk. The pay is good, and the benefits are second to none. That's kind of hard to leave. I have no one to blame but myself though. I'm what you'd call a late bloomer, I guess.
To my credit, I am a home owner, have two vehicles, two dogs, and have been married for seven (going on eight) years. So I'm ahead of the curve in that respect based on the current standard. I guess I should feel good about that. I still haven't quite figured out that property tax thing though. I guess you're supposed to pay those on time.
I still flip-flop constantly on career aspirations. I have a lot of things I'm interested in. I love theology. But I'm not sure I can invest the time it would take to become a theologian. Not because I don't have the time, but I don't know if I can motivate myself for that long. I love computers and technology. This is a more viable option as it would take less schooling to obtain the degree I need to land a decent job. But that's something I've tried before. I lost interest fast. I didn't neccesarily lose interest in the subject, but I lost interest in doing the work involved. I also like writing and literature. I've considered a degree in that area. I think I would love being a high school English teacher. I don't see that happening either.
I would never say that I regret becoming so enthralled in music, but I do think it is directly related to my indecision. I've put more into music than anyting else since the age of 14. I've been incredibly serious about becoming a musician as recently as six or seven months ago. But for the past... probably four years... I have went round and round in my brain trying to decide if I even want to do that. It turns out, I don't have the burning desire for that anymore either. I'll never stop playing. I'm 100% sure that I will begin writing again (I haven't really written for about three years). I may even start something new. We'll see.
Eh. I don't know.
My plan for now is to just coast. That's what I've always done. I've been happy to do it, too. I've enjoyed my life for the most part. I don't really care about having a lot of money. As long as I have enough to enjoy dinner and a movie with my wife, and a little extra for some video games, I'm good. Career-wise, I'll probably shed my skin from time to time for the rest of my life. That's the way we do things nowadays. I would like to bring those kids into the equation at some point. Don't worry, we're working on that... hehe.
"What have I accomplished, really?"
"Am I as far along in life as I thought I'd be ten years ago?"
"Shouldn't I already have found my career?"
"Shouldn't I already have children?"
"Does any of this crap that has been important to me throughout my twenties really matter?"
Yeah... that stuff.
I realize we live in a different time. I realize people aren't getting married as young and are having children at a later age. Hell, I got married at 22 and the reaction I most often get is, "Wow! That's young!" It's an odd thing.
My parents were married in 1977 at ripe old age of 18. When I was 18, I was quite single and didn't have much on my mind other than who I was going to find to illegally purchase alcohol for me on the weekend. I worked as a projectionist/shift manager at a movie theater making $6.05 per hour. I did go away to college in Evansville for one full year. Yeah... didn't work out.
My mother gave birth to me at 23 and gave birth to my sister less than two years later. By the time she turned 25, she had two children and had been married for seven years. When I was 25 I was plugging around Kokomo and Indianapolis on most weekends in a thrash metal band, still partying with friends every weekend, serving at a restaurant, and having the guys over to play Dungeons & Dragons once a week. I did take some online classes at Ivy Tech for a while, though. Yeah... didn't work out.
Now I'm 30. By the time my mother and father turned 30, I was already in first grade and playing little league baseball. Dad was working his way up the ladder towards an engineering career (sans college degree, might I add). As of now, I'm working at a call center. I spend the better part of my day getting cursed at and getting told where to go when I die all for answering the phone and reading from a computer screen. Rather than thinking of advancing up the ladder, I spend my day brainstorming a plan for getting out of that God-forsaken place. But I must admit, I'm all talk. The pay is good, and the benefits are second to none. That's kind of hard to leave. I have no one to blame but myself though. I'm what you'd call a late bloomer, I guess.
To my credit, I am a home owner, have two vehicles, two dogs, and have been married for seven (going on eight) years. So I'm ahead of the curve in that respect based on the current standard. I guess I should feel good about that. I still haven't quite figured out that property tax thing though. I guess you're supposed to pay those on time.
I still flip-flop constantly on career aspirations. I have a lot of things I'm interested in. I love theology. But I'm not sure I can invest the time it would take to become a theologian. Not because I don't have the time, but I don't know if I can motivate myself for that long. I love computers and technology. This is a more viable option as it would take less schooling to obtain the degree I need to land a decent job. But that's something I've tried before. I lost interest fast. I didn't neccesarily lose interest in the subject, but I lost interest in doing the work involved. I also like writing and literature. I've considered a degree in that area. I think I would love being a high school English teacher. I don't see that happening either.
I would never say that I regret becoming so enthralled in music, but I do think it is directly related to my indecision. I've put more into music than anyting else since the age of 14. I've been incredibly serious about becoming a musician as recently as six or seven months ago. But for the past... probably four years... I have went round and round in my brain trying to decide if I even want to do that. It turns out, I don't have the burning desire for that anymore either. I'll never stop playing. I'm 100% sure that I will begin writing again (I haven't really written for about three years). I may even start something new. We'll see.
Eh. I don't know.
My plan for now is to just coast. That's what I've always done. I've been happy to do it, too. I've enjoyed my life for the most part. I don't really care about having a lot of money. As long as I have enough to enjoy dinner and a movie with my wife, and a little extra for some video games, I'm good. Career-wise, I'll probably shed my skin from time to time for the rest of my life. That's the way we do things nowadays. I would like to bring those kids into the equation at some point. Don't worry, we're working on that... hehe.
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