The Long Hello

Although I haven’t posted here recently, I have been busy writing. Maybe not one-hour-a-day busy, but I have done some work on meeting my set goals. Last week in particular, I had a lot of ideas flowing in the D&D department. I got a few things done on my to do list for that, which lead to other ideas there, too. My own little brainstorming session.

I’ve taken to writing down bits of notes, with a circled W adjacent, indicating a writing idea. Usually they are things I’d like to touch on here at the blog. Sometimes I use that designation for story or character ideas. I like the convention.

I am extremely ambivalent about tuna fish. ( “tooter fish” if you’re a fan of the Dark Tower. )

School is starting up this week. I am taking one online class, in which I am already behind, because the ebayer I pwned hasn’t shipped the book yet. (I got a $90 book for $35 !) I sold last semester’s two text books for about $100 total.
Help Desk Concepts is the online class. The other is PC Operating Systems. Yes, mostly XP, but we’ll touch on Vista and Linux, which I’m looking forward to.

I still dig Kristin Chenoweth.

Stephen King is still the only Steven I will accept with a ‘ph’. I have once again resumed my quest for the Dark Tower, as I will do many more times before I reach the clearing at the end of the path. Frank Muller reads the book on tape. Currently, I am approaching my favorite part of volume 2, the Drawing of the Three. The shootout between a naked Eddie Dean and Enrico Balazar – it’s written so well, so enthralling. King captures humanity so succinctly. He will be recognized in the decades to come as the most important writer of the latter 20th century.

For those of you who have read the Dark Tower, check out the comics recently published by marvel. They are a big hit, realizing the time before volume 1 (The Gunslinger) in spectacular color. The first volume retells the back story in volume 4 (Wizard and Glass), while the 2nd volume, the Long Road Home, details the untold events after the ka-tet’s return from Hambry. They can be had for cheap from Amazon, of course.

Now it is time to get back to the real work. I am (probably overly) excited about the secret D&D project I have been slowly working on. I almost hesitate to mention it here, but it won’t be done for another 6 months, at least. Dave’s ‘campaign’ has brought about a renewed interest in myself and, I think, the other players in our group. { See you all on the 6th! }

I'll be back for more after the Labor Day weekend (during which I hope to see some karaoke action!).

Ah... Endorphins!

S’been a long lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely time!

Well, I did manage to watch the DVR, take Nick to the Cub Scout event, have dinner with my parents and beat the Slayer song on Guitar Hero III this weekend. I was able to work on the kids’ computer, adding memory and a USB port expansion card, replacing the sound card, and moving the CPU. I measured the sink and just have to pick up the new faucet. I also made food for and attended the birthday party, drank a LOT of margarita, and sang a LOT of karaoke. (that was damn fun, too!) So, a semi-productive weekend, just not on the writing front.

Between the Guitar Hero and the Karaoke, I have had a taste of making music. Faux music, sure, but nevertheless, it makes me hungry for more. I could have stayed all night singing! I did a Sting song, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, a couple more. Jennifer did a perfect rendition of Hotel California! It would be such a fun thing at our own family gatherings! This is the one they had. 2000 + songs, and quite a variety! Maybe we’ll take up a collection at the next one.

OK, back to work tomorrow. Maybe not a post here, but one solid hour of writing work, based on my first post’s goals.

OK?

You know, you’re not really much help here. You never encourage me to by myself. I do everything for you - EVERYTHING! All I get from you is silence. If it were the other way around……

For What it’s Worth

It’s payday, and I’m depressed.

Bills are paid, groceries and gasoline budgeted, and that’s it! It makes me feel quite inadequate, and rather unmotivated.

Moreover, I just found out that the release of Harry Potter 6 has been pushed back to July of 2009. 7 more months! Well, at least the break between 6 and 7 will not be so gulfy. (The first half of 7 is due in 2010, the 2nd in 2011.)

I’m going to try to do some writing at home this weekend. In addition to fixing the computers, replacing the bathroom sink faucet, attending the birthday party, watching the DVR, taking Nick to a Cub Scout event, having dinner with my mom for her birthday, and beating the last song (Slayer!) on Easy on Guitar Hero III.

Chapter II: Lo! There They Sat!

From a low, narrow bed, Sirakln stared deeply into the blackness beyond his room’s sole window, awaiting his dilatory slumber while silently contemplating his recent harsh berating of Leviathan. The air was still, a late Rain-time pall of humidity and heat that was hardly conducive to sleep. Am I really beyond compassion? he thought. Then he reminded himself, But Leviathan has been in Martish a long time, so he must know the city far better than I. Sirakln's thoughts of apology drifted to deep remorse, and it nibbled at the very substance of his soul. How could I be so judgmental of someone I just met? Gods! But he did kill that man, even if he was nothing more than Dealer-scum. He now jumped freely from thread to thread, as a man's thoughts are wont while awaiting sleep. No, it was self-preservation. Does that elf call himself a ranger? Yet, why is it I felt such compassion from him? Why did I see a good friend in his eyes? At that, a strong breeze swept across Sirakln's bed, wafting in the odor of rising bread and fresh dough from the bakery next door. Is that a sign, good Cassock? Yes, I do believe it is. I shall take this man as a friend and companion, despite his shortcomings. Even though your system has betrayed me in the past (or rather, the fallible men who administer it), I cannot deny the premonitions I have experienced. But now his thoughts began to drift away with the floating aroma, and as pale moonlight crept over him, so too, finally, did sleep.

Leviathan strode down the black alley-way, peering night vision searching carefully. He more or less ignored the dead weight draped over his broad left shoulder; instead, his thoughts were of the scar-faced ranger he had just...what, upset? No, alienated. Yes, he already hates me, Leviathan told himself. Or does he?
He could not continue this inner argument, however, for his heat vision detected a number of warm bodies at the right, near the secret rear entrance of his own apartment. With a certain hatred (not his own) fresh in him, a devious plot grew next to it. He walked on, seemingly oblivious to the group of would-be thugs. Due to their huddled closeness, he could not be sure of their exact number, but it could be no more than eight, and he was sure he could handle them. If they were not Fingers of the Hand, the thieves' guild of Martish. Again he subconsciously swore to never join them, never to let someone else control him. He was now near the shadows' position, but they did not leap at him as he had anticipated. He slowed his pace ever so slightly, but they did not attack. He plodded on, reconsidering his masterful plot.
He had planned to dispose of this body a few blocks down, but now he almost trotted to get around the corner of the next. He flopped the body down, behind some sort of trash bin, and turned back to peer around the edge of a ramshackle house. The heat signal remained huddled near his door, their intent as yet unknown. Leviathan waited also, surveying the rest of the alley. The overcast night meant that he had to rely solely on his night vision. But so must the others, he thought, so they cannot be human. Also, they were not members of the Hand of Martish, for their in-city club was uniquely human. Some renegade rogues? he asked himself. They still had not budged from their watch-point. He quickly checked around himself and the side alley where he had dropped the body. Empty. His neck craned up into blackness, but he could see nothing with any traceable amount of heat. The dogs! What have they got up their silent sleeves?
Leviathan grew nervous as he watched, though he could not trace it to one particular aspect of his quarry. More waiting. Then, with little supposition, a spark went up in one of the upper floor windows directly across from Leviathan's building. It jumped again, and momentarily a subdued candle was flickering on the windowsill. Leviathan stared hard into the room beyond it, but could make out nothing. His gaze came slowly back towards his original subject--and they were gone! Well, almost. He saw the last two forms slip into the door (if it could be called such) immediately beneath the candle. It wasn't necessarily their motion that spurred him into action, but rather their peculiar build. In the pale candle light, their heads seemed flattened, their jaws protuberant. And most notably, they were rather short.
His charge was intended to simply verify his nightmarish suspicion. He slid into the portal, glaring about sharply. A stairwell led up and around. How could they be so stupid? No doors? No guards? 'Ware, he warned himself, ascending; they always were crafty. He cautiously stepped around a blind corner, and lo! There they sat! Goblins, five of them, imbibing some obscenely dark liquid. Leviathan pulled his sword and slew the first before the beastie knew he was there. The others had time enough to draw their daggers. Nothing more. Each took his turn dulling the ranger's blade. Leviathan's tongue tasted the blood that had sprung to his face and chest. He hastily wiped the blade across the rump of a dead one and resheathed it. Out of financial necessity, he checked their pockets and pouches, but found only the random copper crow.
He was now possessed by anger and a long-dormant hatred. He despised these kob-kin, as they called themselves, and yet he was angry with himself for not taking one alive! Gods! He cursed himself, stomping around the rest of the small apartment. When he reached the second room, he kicked the candle out of the window and it fell extinguished. He clenched his fist and ground his teeth together, choking off a scream of vengeance. Silent revenge shall I have, he almost whispered to himself. And he stomped again through the goblin's former home, smashing and ranting for a long while. With no other outlet, his hatred burned him inside, giving him a headache at both temples. Finally weary, he tramped down the steps and into the alley. The moon had now burst through the furious clouds. He slunk across to his door, keyed the hidden lock, and shuttled inside. His flat was simple, yet comfortable, and he rummaged for a stray rag. Wiping his face and chest, he wondered again where the scar came from and what on Keanin it meant. The comfort of his simple adobe, though, invited him to the pallet on the far wall, and he slumped down onto it. He stripped his clothing away, and was sleeping before he could retrace his childhood halfway, ever searching for the source, the source...

Leviathan dreamed again that night, or rather nightmared. In this recurrent dream, he stood alone in a thick copse that strained the sunlight to random rays overhead. As he gazed around, however, a rustling came from across the way, and a woman burst into the clearing opposite him. She was beautiful, in a common way, but her features were indiscernible to Leviathan; his mother, as he remembered her now. She ran straight for him, stumbling over her long, tattered dress. Leviathan watched with indifference. From the same exit now burst a young boy, yelling for her to stop. His shouts were blanketed by those from behind Leviathan. As he turned, a half-dozen goblins jumped out of the undergrowth. Leviathan slid aside knowingly, for this dream was now familiar to him, and he recognized these creatures. The boy stopped on a bronze, frozen. The beasties advanced on the woman, swords drawn in anticipation. Her nondescript features flooded with anger and hatred, tinted with fear. The first goblin struck her a glancing blow and she neatly kicked him in the groin. As he slumped, however, the next blade penetrated her abdomen from the side, and so she slumped. They finished her.
Leviathan moved to the other side of the copse (for he knew he must) and melded with the boy. The boy screamed silently, for it was all his body would allow; it would not budge. The goblins approached him, spreading out to surround him. He saw each face again and again, and he hated them all the more for blotting out the face of his mother. They encroached on him, on his privacy, his peace; upon his dream. Leviathan sat bolt upright in his pallet, sweaty hand palming the scar on his heaving chest. It itched like mad, threatening to drive him thus. He scratched with his nails, swinging his legs over the edge of his primitive bed. Groping in the dark for a rag, he wiped himself dry. In his quest to relieve the burning itch, his dream was forgotten; indeed, that he had dreamed at all.
After what seemed hours of tossing and turning, he determined it was much too hot to sleep any further, so he donned his clothes, sword belt heavy on his tired waist, and made for the Pegasus Hoof. The moon was gone and Leviathan sensed dawn on the horizon.

Anyplace but here

I have been rather uninspired the last couple days. Allergies are sapping my energy, the impending end of summer sapping my motivation. I’ve been having D&D story ideas floating around my brain box, one of which seemed huge and super-cool. The whole concept now depresses me somewhat, as I am supposed be doing SERIOUS writing. So, I feel wedged in between the two creative forces, unable to give either much attention, let alone my FULL attention.

I suppose it’s time to post another chapter of the untitled Keanin story, written so many years ago…

No Good Deed...

Well, it’s been a bit more than 120 hours. I’ve not written anything since Wednesday of last week – 5 whole days! That’s the way it goes. Nick and I were at scout camp for 3 days, played D&D one day, celebrated my father’s 68^th birthday on Sunday, then had to do some database training when I went back to work yesterday. It’s high time to jump back into it.

Scout camp was great. Nick has come full circle. The first time we went, 3 years ago, we were at the camp site farthest from every activity. We had to walk at least 15 minutes to most things. That was a miserable 3 days, because Nick’s ADHD, his size, my inability to deal with his immaturity, etc. It got slightly better the next two times, at different sites. This year, we were at the same, farthest site as the first year! Nick handled it like a trooper – or should I say, like a boy scout. He’s really matured a lot in the last 3 years. It was an enjoyable trip.

On the 2^nd night at camp, we did a flag retirement ceremony, during which we cut a flag into strips and burned it on a solemn campfire. Before we began, I reminded everyone that it is supposed to be a quiet and respectful time. Nick and the other 14 boys in our camp site were quiet AND STILL for nearly 40 minutes! I was simply amazed that a group of 10 year old boys could be silent for so long!

On the 1.25 hour drive to and from camp, I listened to a certain CD multiple times. I can’t seem to get enough of the music, and it surprises me. It is the soundtrack to the original Broadway performance of Wicked. It started with my wife (doesn’t everything?!), who went to see it with her best friend Lois, a music person. She raved, and soon bought the soundtrack on CD. She showed me and the kids a couple tracks that were fun and charming. The voice of Galinda captivated me from the start – high-pitched, small but large, and just plain cute. I found myself hunting down any information related to this Kristen Chenoweth. I borrowed her CDs from the library, read her wiki entry, surveyed youtube bits, and even watched RV, a terrible movie that’s best part was her comic duet with Jeff Daniels. She played Annabeth Schott on the West Wing. She also makes Pushing Daisies, a peculiar show best known for the voiceover work of Jim Dale (famous voice of all 7 Harry Potter books-on-tape) worth watching. This woman is barely 5 feet tall, and has some amazing lungs. She can really sing, too!

The soundtrack of the musical is, as I said, enchanting. The rhymes are tricky, but they fit. The music is thrilling and sincere. The performances are astounding, especially the titular (no, not Kristen!) character Elphaba, played by Idina Menzel. Elphaba is the real name of the Wicked Witch of the West. Yes, Wicked is sort of a prequel to the Wizard of Oz. It is a fascinating adaptation of the popular novel by Gregory Maguire.

Some time over the weekend, I was struck by inspiration. An idea came to my mind, unbidden as the best ones often do, for a D&D storyline that has the potential to the blow the socks off of all the old players. I haven’t been more excited about developing a story idea in more than a decade! Perhaps by the time Eric moves back to northwest Ohio, I might have it ready.

My son has grown into a bit of a Star Wars nut. Although I have steered him away from the collecting aspect, he still has quite a few toys that he actually plays with. His friends play along, too. We recently watched the Robot Chicken Star Wars special. Hilarious stuff, but it got me thinking of a time long ago, in a place that seems far, far away – the East Toledo Boys Club, about 27 years ago! On an old reel-to-reel projector, we watched a 15 minute short called Hardware Wars, a fantastically crude spoof of Star Wars. We probably watched it 10 times that summer. The image of a waffle iron, suspended sideways in a flat star field, slowly opening as Fluke Starbucker flies his bottle opener into the final battle, is indelible. I sat everyone in front of the TV last night to watch the Special Edition (not approved by the original creator), and I must say it was still as funny as it was nearly 3 decades ago! Nick certainly got a kick out of it!

This brings me to a comment on the Clone Wars feature coming out in a couple weeks. While I am looking forward to sharing the big screen experience with Nick, it again brings the dollar signs to the fore front of my Star Wars awareness. The action figures, the books, all the back-to-school stuff (good timing!), the video games, etc. It is a little disturbing to think of all the adult geeks out there who will end up purchasing not one, buy TWO complete sets of all the action figures - one to put away and one to open and display.

What a sad, sad statement.

Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.

This may be my last transmission for some time. HAL has taken the blog off-line. As he surely knows what’s best for me, I’ll be taking some time away from the computer, away from the internets, to take my son to camp.

Last night was spent cleaning the house, painting the porch, and yelling at the kids –just for being annoying. We have someone coming to look at our house this evening. Keep your fingers crossed for us! (Isn’t it peculiar that the atheistic alternative to praying is still a cross…)

Why does life seem so easier for other people? Even for other parents, it seems far less complicated than ours. It seems that we have something important going on every weekend, and most of the days during the week. My To Do list is huge! It’s a folder that sticks out of the pack I carry back and forth to work. Where do we simplify? Is it the STUFF, or is it the TIME? Is it the kids, or is it our own ambitions? Or is it our LACK of ambition?! It’s something we’ve struggled with for the last 10 years! I don’t mean to imply that everyone else has it easier – I’ve come to know, through close friends and certain scrutinies, that everyone has their own unique sets of issues. I guess it’s just a point of reference to say that it seems so much easier for everyone else.

Ultimately, I know –know – that it’s our own choices that have lead us to where we are. And I know that ONLY our choices, our actions, can pull us out of the rut we’ve created with >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> STEVEN WILL RETURN IN APPROXIMATELY 120 HOURS >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> PLEASE GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The Pursuit of Happiness

On Monday evening, we went to NOIC to seek preapproval for a home loan. I had been skeptical, based on our credit score (provided by a credit card company) and our credit card debt. Internally, I had resigned ourselves to the seeming impossibility of selling the trailer, and was very much intimidated by the impending process (read: more autographs than Billy Dee Williams at a Star Wars convention). Tina an NOIC made it virtually harmless!

There was no fee up front, and only $750 when we do buy a house (at $130K). Not bad at all! Furthermore, she revealed that our credit scores are GREAT! 7 teens for me and 7 twenties for Jen. As it turns out, having all that revolving credit is actually good! Well, paying them on time and not maxing them out is the good part. We got approved for $130,000 at 7% through FHA. Using approximations for taxes, this is the amount of house we could get for what we currently pay, between lot rent, mortgage and storage!

We still need to come up with cash for a down payment. If we get money from family and/or friends, she said they have to be specifically noted as gifts. Just click on the PayPal logo below!

If you know anyone looking for a nice (mobile) home in a nice (mobile home) community, click on the house logo below!

Long Days and Pleasant Nights

Yesterday morning, my alarm goes of at 6:30. My wife wakes up and says “Let’s go for a walk.” Literally 90 seconds later, I’m stumbling up the street, tripping over the speed bump, mumbling, grumbling. It takes me nearly 3 blocks to catch up to her!

Other than the crazy wonderfulness of my wife (or is that the wonderful craziness?), the significance of this walk occurs about halfway through the hike. As we make a turn and head west, I notice a handful of birds drifting off to the west-southwest - a larger solo bird and 4-5 smaller ones, separate from Solo. I note how they are flying in the same direction, even though they’re not in the same flock. I wonder, Is it even time to migrate, just as I note that the clouds beyond them have fanned into a giant arrow! The arrow is pointing almost directly southwest – the Path of the Beam followed by Roland Deschain in Stephen King’s Dark Tower books!

Momentarily, we make another turn, and Lo! There’s the sun rising between a sandwich of clouds! Above the fluffy top crust, about 25 degrees up in the eastern sky, giant rays of sunlight flash out towards the south west! The way the clouds align and poof out, only a few of the beams emanate fully from the eastern prison of dawn, along the Path of the Beam.

The clouds are actually sailing to the northeast, but since I am walking and they are slow-moving, this doesn’t even register. Is it a sign, of sorts? Should we be doing this every morning? Is this the right Path for us? Although we don’t need a Sign to tell us that we need to be exercising more, it is strangely reassuring to know that King’s multiverse agrees with you!

Just don’t ask if we got up and walked today.

“Eighty-eight! Eighty-eight! Eighty-eight! Eighty-eight!”

My 20^th high school reunion was held this past Saturday, the 2^nd of August 2008. We actually had a good time! Although I wasn’t exactly nervous, as I said previously, I didn’t want to act like a dork. I’ve never been good at meeting people - small talk and all that – and in some sense, this was just like meeting these people for the first time. I faltered for a moment when my wife and I first walked up to the check-in table – said HI to Shilas, Mary, Becky, then there was a long uncertain pause. With my military (-like) training, I recognized the potential uncomfortability and quickly moved on. From there, it was smooth! Met Brent and Eric, said hello to Tammy. Saw Chuck Reno, Trini Lopez, a couple people I didn’t even know back then. Some were easily recognizable – Suzanne Kalinowski looked almost exactly the same! – and some were totally different. We ended up talking and hanging with Deeana Mylnarek (?), one of the don’t-remember-at-all’s. 3 boys, never been married, thin as a rail. They had a slide show running on a big TV. It seemed to be mostly images of the IN crowd (not judging – it was they who put the reunion together after all!) but later I saw a blow-up of the pic of Eric and myself playing quiz bowl. They were all at least semi-friendly and polite. They kept taking pictures of the nerd crew together. Damn…

Finally, as we were about to start eating, Dave Velliquette showed up, Carisa in tow. We all were surprised that he actually came! And it was very nice to finally meet Carisa (insert high-pitch silly voice)

We didn’t really talk to very many people, beyond the guys we already knew. It would be interesting to know about people’s careers, kids, etc… Of course there was speculation about certain people – Ed Sneed seems to be a manager at Arbys AND McDonalds. But I’d be interested to know what happened to people who didn’t come, and more about the people who did! I showed a few people the pics of our twins, but I never got to say “I’m a librarian at a hospital” !

There were some odd memories brought back, some not remembered in at least 10 years (the last significant attempted reunion) . I forget some of the things we talked about, but…Eric’s mention of May the Farce be with you – the 8^th grade drama production…Dave’s mention of the kid who tried to tag with us when we went to Frankenmouth – and our efforts to lose him…Stealing test answers in calculus class… (feel free to expound on these memories in the comments!)

The next day, Jen and I were looking through our year books. They are starting to smell musty, like the wondrous, aged smell of my uncle’s sagas as I leafed through them back in the early 80’s. I haven’t looked at these books in probably 10 years – not since the last attempted reunion. Some of the moments in the pics I actually remember – frozen in time, brought of the mind-freezer every once in a while to not-quite thaw – but most of them are now memories of memories – it is the memory of looking through those books so many times in the 4-5 years following graduation. The memory of remembering those days, which fades quicker than that actual memory. (My kingdom for a Pensieve!) Nevertheless, after not seeing them in 10 years, they bring back certain feelings, thoughts of all the possibilities, and ultimately the regrets. The signatures, the autographs, the signings! I’m no romantic, but the nuances in some of them make me want to rap my head against the old blue lockers! I dated Shelly Michalek in 9^th grade, and a couple of the signatures mentioned the breakup. Why I broke up with her, I don’t know! Why did I stay with Kelli, a silly 8^th grader? A couple of the signatures said I was cute and nice… As Charlie Brown might say; UGGHH! I could have even been with Jennifer back then! We often lament that choice, as we could have balanced each other far sooner! As Mike Portnoy of Dream Theater said “I once thought it better to regret the things that I have done, than haven’t.” There are very few things that I HAVE done that I regret. One learns from all of one’s experiences, after all. But one can not learn from things one has NOT done. There are many regrets for things that I HAVE NOT done, things that cannot be un-not done, like all the stuff in high school that I didn’t do.

10 years ago, I would sometimes be overcome by those regrets. Now, with my life intractable and full, those feelings are just another beacon calling out to my tapping fingers. “Come, old Steve, come…tell the world about your feelings…catharsis is a lovely word…come, and remember…and forget…

Happy Monday

I wrote nothing over the weekend. Not so much as a dictated note from the answering machine. I do not intend to make up for it, because I haven’t exactly been…exact with my 1 hour daily goal. Still, I have tons of ideas and will likely make a couple blog entries today. Thus, I have made it a point this morning to do the writing BEFORE anything else. (I didn’t even listen to my book-on-tape on the drive in.) I have THOUGHT more like a writer of late, and I received a handful of comments about the blog over the weekend, so I count it as a rather successful first week.

And now, for my second act…