Why I don't rant like I used to...

It dawned on me last night why I don't rant like I used to...I avoid things that make me rant most of the time.

Perhaps in my aging, I finally internalized the hidden message that my Mom was always trying to tell me when she would say, "If it hurts when you go like that, then don't go like that." What she was trying to tell me was simply this: If something drives you crazy or hurts you in some fashion...avoid it! So, I took that to heart, and when things did tend to pass my threshold, normally I was nowhere near my computer to actually blog while I was ranting (mental note: buy a laptop as my retirement present to myself...rant when it hits and games on the move).

That being said, I've recently been overwhelmed by a couple of events...so here goes:

1. I hate driving in traffic. No normal traffic, but the inane lunacy that passes for traffic in our nation's capital. I had the "overwhelming joy" of driving my youngest daughter to her dance class last night. Suffice to say, having to change a tire before I left, thereby leaving late, did not help my mood. Add in the fact that no other human within a thousand miles of me knows how to drive normally, i.e. an accident on the shoulder of the other side of the interstate IS NOT A REASON FOR YOU TO COME TO A COMPLETE #$&*(&^#$(*&$(#ING STOP DURING RUSH HOUR...you spastic clowns. Add to that mess, the inability of the standard driver to actually just patiently add themselves to the end of a line at an off-ramp...Nooo, that would make sense, but what do you wool-headed excuses for meatsacks do...WHIP YOUR CAR ACROSS 2 LANES AND NEARLY RIP THE FRONT END OF MY CAR OFF STUFFING YOUR FORD BEHEMOTH-MOBILE INTO A SPACE MY DAUGHTER WOULDN'T FIT IN...WAIT YOUR FRACKING TURN LIKE THE REST OF US...

2. I hate my state...more specifically, the fact that the Democratic party that runs my state has been ripe with corruption since they started. Chicago has been owned by the Daly family in politics, what with vote early and vote often. I didn't vote for anybody this year because my state didn't even have the common courtesy of sending me an absentee ballot, despite having registered and used their online request form, not once but twice. Perhaps they realized that I wouldn't have voted for Obama and decided that I didn't need to vote as I was voting wrong. Add to that frustration, WHAT THE HELL...the thick-witted, brain-damaged, son of a... governor decides he can SELL a vacant Senate seat? Is it legal for me to take a short trip back and slap him so hard his great-great-great-great-grandchildren are born cross-eyed? I didn't vote for him when I had the chance and now I've been vindicated...

That's enough for now...my blood pressure spiked while recalling how angry I was yesterday and I have to go and calm down now before I blow a vessel.

Farewell, Gary

Farewell, Gary Gygax.

You know how when you hear that someone famous died and most of the time, you tend to think (or at least I do alot)..."Oh wow...what a shame." and that's as far as it goes. Then come the one's like Mother Teresa, who you look at and think "The world just lost something today.". Last are the ones that when you hear, you sit down stunned for a minute...that was me today when I read the news story about Gary Gygax dying on the web. D&D was a huge part of my formative game playing. I think back fondly to my time in his care...D&D...the memories.

For God's sake, I was 11 when I first started playing at school with my friends. I've still got a 1st edition Dungeon Master's Guide, Player's Handbook and most of the modules that Gygax wrote.

I shudder to think of the trouble I could have gotten into had I not started playing D&D and had something to occupy my time as a teenager. While my friends were out drinking and attempting other stupid crap, I was happily engaging my mind..."What's that you say? I'm looking at a pit and my rope will only get me 2/3's of the way across and the ogres are coming...hrmmm"

I've moved on into other games since, with my latest being World of Warcraft, where in the official forums, the idea of an in-game memorial has been raised. I would fully support an in-game memorial. I like someone's "Bag of Holding" idea...but it would have to be some ridiculous number of slots....like hundreds...of course, make it so nasty to get to, that people have nightmares about the attempts. I can still remember the pain of some of those modules...."Queen of the Demonweb Pits"...shudder...the G series - Hill Giants, Frost Giants, Fire Giants...oh my.

All RPGs pale in comparison to the open-ended, free-flow joy that was D&D. Unfortunately, trying to find people who play now is akin to finding people who are willing to receive root canals via their eye sockets. Some nonsense about "the graphics suck". Kids these days have no imagination...

Farewell, Gary...you'll be missed...may you never miss another saving throw...

Valentine's Day

Today, I tried something different. I posted...unbeknownst to my wife...on her blog:

http://www.mom2dbmk.com

Sorry, dear...but I couldn't help myself :)

tic tac® candies and me

So, me and tic tac® candies (correction: mints) have an interesting relationship.

Namely, I devour them en masse...I mean, for God's sake, I just tipped the container back and have six of them in my mouth now...wait, no...make that five of them ;)

Anyway, over my life I've run into what I thought were all of the various flavors: peppermint (white), spearmint (green), cinnamon (red), orange (orange). I like most of them, however I hold a special place in my heart for the orange ones...I can put away an entire container (37 mints) at one time with the orange ones. I just open my maw, pop open the container and start shaking...it's truly sick. The peppermint ones are ok, as are the cinnamon ones. The spearmint ones can be a little painful, what with my method of ingestion (see above).

Recently the snack fund proprietor's at my office provided two types I hadn't seen before: wintergreen (light green) and citrus twist (odd yellow and green).

The wintergreen ones are tolerable...a little like their other green brother. A little intense in large groups...say 5 or more, but find in smaller groups.

However, the citrus twist ones are horrific. I figured, "Hey, I like Sprite® and other lemon-lime stuff...these should be ok." Uh...no...not even close. I don't know who came up with the flavor for these, but they taste kind of like the lemon fresh Clorox® wipes smell...not good...not good at all.

Anyway...if you haven't tried the citrus twist ones yet...save yourself the trouble and stick to the orange ones...on second thought, git yer hands off my orange ones. And if you have tried them and like them...I'm sorry and you have nothing to fear from me...I'll stick with the orange ones.

Again...did I mention sickness...six of them this time :)

Security & Kids

So, we visited a new church yesterday...and of course, I get to drop off the young ones while the other parental unit finds an acceptable seating location (we won't go into how crazy that can be).

I get help locating the children's ministry location and begin the process of checking in the youngest 2...6 and 2.

So the lady asks their names and ages/school grade, to which she gets the appropriate information: K - 2 and M - 1st grade. She jots this down on 2 little pieces of paper and then stuns me for a moment with her next instruction: Please provide a picture ID. What...picture ID? I'm not buying booze or smokes here...I'm dropping off my young ones, so they can partake in age appropriate worship/Bible learning. Alas, I hand over my driver's license and receive a pager in return.

I'm figuring that's the end of it and head to drop them off at the appropriate rooms, when I'm directed to another station. Here a lady gets K's name again and my pager number, which are then written on one of those club/hospital bands...you know, the Tyvec ones that can only be removed via tin snips, chainsaw, etc. She attaches said band to K's wrist and then directs me down to their rooms. Maybe the teacher's might need some help with ID on visitors.

I proceed to drop the young ones off and head into service myself. Of course, having a sanctuary with cafe-style seating is causing the wife to stress a bit...she's more traditional than I am that way...needs her pews and the like.

Service was pretty good...with a line I'm sure made more than one person twitch in the throes of "He can't be talking to me..." as it was fairly blunt. Still, all in all, good service...didn't much care for the worship music though...but that is one I'm fairly loose on as long is it is headed the right direction, I can stand quite a bit.

So, service is over and I'm headed to reclaim my stored property...er, children. Anyway, I proceed to head toward the locations of temporary storage, when I'm politely but firmly asked to show my pager. I comply and proceed to pickup M...uneventfully. I head back to collect K, when the teacher asks to see my pager again...now wait a minute, I just showed it to that guy and by the way she tossed the toys aside and came running shrieking "Daddy", it's fairly obvious that she belongs with me. I calmly produce the pager again and after checking it against K's wristband, the teacher cuts the band off and reunites me with my second young one. I then head toward the apparent final turn-in point for the pager, with K and M in tow. I drop off the pager and am given my license and 2 pieces of paper. I'm then told to go to the last lady by the door. She checks the papers to ensure I have the appropriate number of children.

While it may seem excessive, I appreciate the nod toward securing my young ones, after all, I've seen the opposite when it comes to accountability as well. It still smacked of getting prisoners transferred...what with the whole paperwork/documentation requirements.