Things you were happier not knowing

If you look up “geek” on Dictionary.com, one of the definitions you get is:
2. A carnival performer whose show consists of bizarre acts, such as biting the head off a live chicken.

Oh, how far have we fallen from those glory days.

Driving pleasures

We've had our new car for a couple of weeks now, and I've noticed a strange thing.  I take a good deal of pleasure in driving it.  It's a 2003 Toyota Echo which Katherine promptly named "Caroline," after Sir Topham Hatt's elderly auto (Thomas the Tank Engine, for the uninitiated).

Caroline is a very nice little car.  She has lots of room inside for dogs and people and stuff, she's very good on gas and she's comfy.  And she's indigo-coloured, which is really cool.

I always saw cars as necessary evils, methods of transportation that you got in, drove somewhere and got out.  We only got one because of my work and if we could do without one, we happily would.  Damn things are expensive and I prefer walking or bussing places.  They do have their advantages though…..without it, we couldn't have bought a house in Torbay…..

Commuting was a nuisance and while a weekend drive was often fun, it was mostly because of the company and the scenery.  Since we got Caroline, I've actually enjoyed the physical activity of driving her, the handling of the car over the roads.  The drive to and from work and court has become fun in and of itself. Weird, but I'm not complaining; after all, I have a 20-30 minute commute every day, twice a day at least.

There must be a cure.  More hiking.  That's it!  Can anyone give me a ride to the trailhead? 

Moments of True Weirdness

Ever have one of those moments that truly weirds you out? I don't mean creepy or dangerous weirdness, just things that are very odd. It takes a lot to make me scratch my head in total disbelief. As a lawyer, one hears some pretty strange tales about the things that happen to people.

My job, however, recently permitted me to experience one of the oddest, most wonderfully off-the-wall occurrences ever. The law firm where I work is in a strip mall and right next door, on the other side of my office wall is a bar. Not just any bar, either. This is a hard-drinkin', swaggerin', bead-eyed, man's man-type bar. Leather jackets, tattoos and guys who thought they were really hot shit in 1986 and haven't realised that time has marched on without them.

Their sound system is right behind my head, separated by what sounds like the thinnest of building materials, so I get their music in stereo from about 3:30 in the afternoon to whenever I go home. On Fridays they start at 1:00.

It's usually a mix of bad 80s hard rock, some Springsteen (pretty good), a lot of Iggy Pop (heaven forfend), Stones (ack, ack), etc.  Nothing too imaginative and they play it LOUD.  It's a short playlist each day, so if I didn't catch all the lyrics to a tune the first time, I'll have at least eight more opportunities.

Then, one day, they played "Material Girl."  That's okay, I like Madonna and the folks at my work know me well enough to realise that hearing me sing along is not a sign to call the men in white coats, just to close my door.

They followed it up with a selection of Jann Arden.  An entire CD's worth, to be precise.  Hard at its heels came Melissa Etheridge and KD Lang.

Right, we've got sensitive, Lilith-Fair style music and frustrated-angry-lesbian tunes.

The crowning glory was  BANANARAMA.  Remember them?

I just have this picture of all these tough guys getting in touch with their inner beings and crying on each other's shoulders like some horrbily twisted Oprah episode.  It was without a doubt the weirdest thing I've experienced in a very long time.

Disclaimer – I'm not dissing the above artists.  With the notable exception of KD Lang, whom I could cheerfully flush from my consciousness, I like their music a lot, listen to it regularly and sing along when there's no one around.  Loudly.  I like Belinda Carlyle, Debbie Gibson, Wilson Phillips and the Bangles too.

There was just something horribly wrong with it coming from the bar next door.

Enlightenment through dungeon-crawling

Be warned. This is perhaps the geekiest post yet on this blog. Tread carefully.

This is another one of those random thoughts that struck me late at night when sensible people with jobs to go to tomorrow are in bed. How much self-knowledge can one glean from oneself through a philosophical examination of the races and classes one prefers playing in D&D?

Let’s keep it simple and stick to the basics, as set out in 1st Edition AD&D. For those of you out of the loop for a while, here’s a refresher: races are dwarves, elves, half-elves, gnomes, halflings and humans. Classes are cleric, druid, fighter, ranger, paladin, magic-user (mage), illusionist, thief, assassin, monk, bard.

I’ve always preferred the more martially-oriented classes, especially the ranger. Logical enough, as I’m an outdoorsy, tree-hugger-type, was raised on Robin Hood stories, and did archery at one point. Pun intended. In addition, I enjoyed the fighter-types simply because they needed to be massively thewed, which I’m not. Always wanted to be that guy who could pick up the ogre and toss him bodily into the chasm……

Basic, straight fighters seemed a little too boring and I’m not the military type, so building a soldier character was never all that appealing. As for paladins…..the idea’s nice, but I like to be morally capable of stabbing in the back someone who really needs it. Occasionally, it’s nice to be able to at least threaten to shove flaming bamboo under the bad guy’s fingernails too.

Now the next best thing to a fighter-type is a cleric. Nice solid meaty thwacking ability and magic too! Magic is cool any way you slice it, but I never really warmed to the idea of a mage or illusionist. Maybe the concept of a deity granting magic if you ask nicely makes more sense than wizardly magic, the existence of which is never satisfactorily explained in the 1E canon. Different religions and spiritualities have always been fascinating for me anyway and playing a cleric can be an entertaining way to explore different attitudes from the perspective of someone who, in their own mind at least, has it all figured out.

Following closely behind the religious types comes the thief. Assassins are nifty, but I’ve never been able to take the D&D ones seriously, and it’s not healthy to laugh at a guy who’s got access to the Assassination Table in the 1E DMG.

Thieves, on the other hand, really have the most fun of all the classes. One can be an heroic scofflaw, a suave and dapper jewel thief, an art afficianado or a sinister alleybasher. You get to break the rules, bend them, or just ignore them. Plus, you get to pick locks and climb things. Thieves represent the yearning for joyous, chaotic freedom in all of us.

Monks. . . . .nice idea, but badly executed in 1E. The Oriental Adventures ones were much better, but we’re not talking about them.

Bards. . . .I only ever knew one person who played a 1E bard. Her name (the bard’s) was Maegonlac Brywny (sp?) a lady who commanded my utmost respect. Besides, she was bigger than me.

Now, we’re away to the races. These are funny choices. I always liked elves and half-elves – good in the woods, they make good thieves and they have pointy ears. Gnomes….did anyone ever play a gnome? Humans are dull. Dwarves are cool and it’s just wonderful that my brother-in-law, who is 6′1″, 200+ lbs, (all muscle) likes dwarves best.

So where does that leave us with my personal journey of introspection? I must be a woodsy type who likes explanations for things and daydreams about sneaking around liberating other people’s property. Hmm. . . .

So, what doe your gaming taste in characters say about YOU?

Watching karate with the naked eye is harder than watching newborn chicks

This is a shameless attempt to increase hits to the blog. I want to see what weird searches crop up too. If any are particularly good, I’ll share.

Necessary Toys

This little post was prompted by Townie Bastard's lightsabre desires. Like every geek the world over (present company proudly included) he wants a Darth Maul double-bladed, Jedi-ass-kicking lightsabre. He calls them unecessary toys.

I have to respectfully disagree with Craig here. Toys are fundamentally necessary to geekdom. We all know that geeks are more likely to live longer, happier lives than many – we know that the real world is complicated, stressful and has taxes in it. That needs escaping from regularly and any geek worth his childhood ostracism has a number of escape hatches through which he can duck at need. Grown-ups call them "hobbies." Geeks call them "the reason I do that job-thing."

I like to keep a chunk of my brain at around ten to twelve years old. I keep another part at about 18, but that's another post. Ten-year-olds know the secrets to happiness – Transformers, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe and Dungeons and Dragons. Good and evil, swords, lasers and magic, and a healthy dose of carnage, mayhem and giant robots. Bliss.

I still have all my Transformers, my collection of D&D books is steadily growing and I've amassed more Lego since I got married than I ever had when I was ten. I gave away my He-man stuff when I was 13 or so, but since it all went to the local kids' hospital, I take comfort in memories of teenage altruism. Still wish for it back occasionally, though. It was the eptiome of cool.

Geeks as a rule don't ever fully grow up and the world is a better place therefore. So take pride, Craig in your lightsabre desires.

We should also rejoice in the fact that we have very tolerant wives.

Martial Art

Ever since the car accident, I;ve been achy and painy and not able to do the things that I enjoy to the fullest.  Most things I can do, albeit with discomfort as I heal; some things I can't at all and karate is one of those.

As I mentioned in a previous post down below somewhere, I'm not in formal  training at the moment, but I still train solo, kata and kihon mostly.  Hard to do solo sparring.

Oddly enough, the accident has reminded me of another facet of karate that is often obscured: the aesthetic appeal, or the "art" of the art.  Since I can't  train with any vigour at all, I spent a little time today just moving slowly through the techniques of Bassai Dai and was struck by the instrinsic grace in the motions.  

Normally, the critical areas of a kata are precise technique, power, timing and spirit.  When well-done, the result is very impressive. Slowed down, the kata evokes a different aesthetic quality; the inherent beauty in human motion.  The path through which each technique travels is prescribed by the efficient use of the human body to deliver force to a target.  Reduce the speed and power, but retain the precision and spirit and the result is a movement of the body through space that is pleasing to observe and experience.

My sensei always repeatedly tells his students that doing a technique slowly and correctly is harder than doing it swiftly and correctly.  Essentially, if you can do it slow, you can do it fast, but the reverse is not necessarily true.  Clarity of form is easier to lose if a technique is rushed.  Learn it your muscles and your bones slowly and your body will respond properly when called upon for speed and power.

I think it is that clarity of form, that definition of motion that creates the beauty.  Nothing is blurred, hasty, or overwrought as the body performs precisely within the sphere of its design.  Beauty is lost is clarity is lost through imprecision.

I'm sure the foregoing is true of any athletic endeavour, but one writes of one's own experiences and I welcome any comments from other atheletes and martial artists.

Among the oft-stated goals of the martial arts is the development of character and the attaining of inner tranquility, self-awareness, inner peace, or whatever you want to call that particular state of mind.   That pursuit cannot be helped but by attention to the aesthetic, the art of the art, the peace within the conflict.

Public Service Announcement

There is nothing, I repeat, nothing sexy about your wife hitting over the head with a full bottle of shampoo.

Trust me. 

You know you’re a geek when. . .

You also know you're married to one when while car shopping, you refer to a group of Toyota wagons as "Matrices", rather than "Matrixes".

Makes your car salesman look at you a little weird. 

Summer’s resolutions

This seems like a good idea. Instead of making resolutions in January, when it’s blinking cold and all you want to do is curl up with a good book, it makes more sense to decide to change a few things when it’s summery and warm. In no particular order:

1. Take more better pictures.

2. Backpacking. There are trails a-calling.

3. Run more.

4. Write in this blog-thing at least once a day.

5. Use more better grammar.

6. Bake more banana bread.

7. Learn to knit.

8. Spend more time outside.

9. Make more top nine lists. Everyone does top ten. Top nine’s funkier.