Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 03, 2014

Sun Days

The day after Maxwell died, we found two "suns" taped to our back door window.

Jennilyn caught the anonymous neighbor almost immediately, but didn't share who it was.

For four weeks, every morning, we were greeted with another sun, another quote/comment/excerpt.  Some were very religious, some were silly, some were philosophical.  I didn't keep track of their order, though you can find the hand-written first one, way down at the bottom of the pictures.

Some days, I'd come home from work, and walk past all of the cheery suns.  But most days, I'd stop, read the new one, look back at some of the others.  I would pause a moment to soak up the smiley illustrations with the real surges of grief still churning around me.  Like turning my face to the warmth of sunshine while standing with my feet in the cold ocean.  Even today, almost two months later, when I read through the quotes, I feel myself start to tear up. 

Actually, when I start to drift into despair, and feel disconsolate, I've come back to these little suns, and read them.  Especially while listening to our favorite song find from Brother-in-law Bob, it has been an ongoing balm.

It was a beautiful act of love and kindness.  It was consistent, simple, earnest, true.

We are grateful for all of the outreach we've received.  It has all helped.

It still hurts to have Max be gone.  But every sunrise is another reason to smile.  Even if the sunrise is taped to our back door.

Thank you.













Thursday, April 22, 2010

*Chirp* *Chirp* *Chirp*


NOT the sound of a sweetly singing spring time bird. This model lasts a LONG time, but you can't just unplug the battery when it expires. You have to snap off the plastic tag that deactivates it completely.

What's super awesome is that this is the second 10 year smoke alarm I've used up. I've been buying my own smoke alarms for two decades! Hooray for oldness!

What's a super bummer is that scary warning on the back; "CONTAINS RADIOACTIVE MATERIAL AMERICIUM 241 - 1.0 MICROCURIE".

So, it's earth day, and I'm not going to risk the wrath of my environmentally aware children by throwing radioactive waste out with the kitchen garbage. What am I supposed to do with this thing!?

What's super awesome is I'm friends at church with a health physicist; he collects household sources of radiation for fun to use in demonstrating his equipement.



So I'll be giving it to him, the world's landfills will be one microcurie lighter of a possible source of alpha radiation.

(And hey, if any of you readers have old orange or red Fiestaware ceramics . . . I'd be happy to take that vintage source of household radiation off of your hands)

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Lion and Tigers and MMORPGs, oh my!


I’m not sure where it started with me. Who can ever really know where their tastes for entertainment form? Parents influence us, peers, pop culture. Did seeing Star Wars in the 4th grade imprint me forever with an inclination for science fiction and fantasy? Was it just a necessary element of my life's path to point me in the direction that would lead me to meeting my wife?

Whatever the well-spring, I really do like the fantasy genre, and I have found a special fondness for playing games with fantastic elements.

When I was in middle school, my peer-group played Dungeons and Dragons (AD&D, core rulebooks, if you are a big enough geek to remember). I played it too, though mostly we just got together, rolled characters, gamed for an hour or two, and spent the rest of the night watching movies and eating pizza.

In high school, I played a game on our home computer (an Apple IIe) called "Wizardry". I think my friend Richard Price made the recommendation to me.

In my twenties, we got a computer with a modem. It was an amazing time, as the internet became widely and easily used. A friend of mine (actually someone I played D&D with in the 80s) introduced me to Multiple-User Dungeons, or MUDs. They were all text-based, all were speculative fiction (the concept of playing normal people for fun, a la "The Sims" was a decade away), most leaned heavily in the direction of fantasy. I played a lot on one called "Perilous Realms" as a Rogue named Groo.

Several years ago, I tried World of Warcraft on for size, played it for about a year and a half. The milieu was fun, but the emphasis on PvP (player versus player) and the commitment it required in time made it difficult to continue. It didn’t fit. What has fit, and continues to be a lot of fun, is Lord of the Rings Online. I was signed up to get notices about it almost six or seven years ago, when it was still called Middle Earth Online.

Why the history lesson? To give some background; I’d like to give some advice on parenting gaming children. I have none for families that have XBox addicts; our kids play rock band on the Wii, but none of them have been interested enough in that kind of online gaming to pursue an account with us.

Last year, there was an article in "The Ensign" (a magazine published by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) about Massive Multi-player Online Role-Playing Games (MMORPGs). A .pdf version of the article is here, which is interesting mostly for the artist's rendition of some scary orc shoulder armor.

Online gaming is like any past-time, it can be awful, destructive if it becomes consuming. But I contend that there are plenty of good things about it as well. I learned to type playing MUDs. Playing a good online game is like reading a good book. It has definitely been something fun to do with the kids, and fun cooperatively, not competitively (we can only play so many board games before someone is sad because they lost again). Like building a Lego castle together. We've played with Emma while she's been at BYU.

It can teach problem-solving skills. Sometimes, in a hairy fight, it's better to take out the collection of little guys first, and concentrate on the boss last. Sometimes, it's better to gang up on the big one first, and then divide and conquer the remaining monsters. You know monsters/bad guys = problems/chores.

Here are some of my suggestions about what to do about gaming with your kids.

If you don't want to play with them, find analogs that you can use in understanding what on earth your kids are doing - what are the things you do for leisure or entertainment? That's a good reference. Common ground will make it easier to discuss issues of content, priorities, good/better/best use of time.

To that end, set priorities with your kids - chores, homework, practice. Family time, Sunday rules. Help your kids know how you choose when to relax.

Know what they do - if you don't play with them, at least have them around you when they are playing. Put the game system where you can watch and observe

Find a way to be interested - again, even if you don't or can't play it with them, ask questions about it. Read an article or two online about the game. Listen to them tell you their stories about playing, and ask them questions.

Communicate your expectations - give five minute warnings (when you can) before they need to quit playing. Some games punish players for quitting in the middle of an activity, so have some empathy when your kids are frustrated; don't you hate to be interrupted while watching a show, reading a book?

Teach kids good social rules, especially how to balance social grace with safety rules - you don't have to be nice to people (don't even have to talk to them) if they are rude or make you uncomfortable. Have them promise to tell you about anything that happens that is inappropriate.

Agree on bedtimes, or turn-lengths (if you don't have enough systems for everybody to play at the same time, there will be fights about whose turn it is) - Set content standards, and make sure everyone knows what they are (language, behavior, violence). Allow your kids the chance to make a case if they disagree, listen to their petition, encourage a dialog.

Make appointments - schedule game time.

Model behavior you want them to emulate - teach interruptibility. Taking turns causes more friction (because it happens almost every day), but needing a child to stop playing now (because it's time for bed, time for school, time to eat, time for church) has caused conflicts of the greatest intensity. Parents and older siblings can teach kids how to be matter of fact when they have to quit doing something interesting.

Be careful about using threats to delete or remove the game as a punishment; it might look like something frivolous to you, but the amount of time invested in a game can add up over months (or years even) to be hundreds of hours. It's that investment that you are threatening, not just a silly pastime. Throwing away something special to your children is probably a drastic overreaction as punishment. Instead, threaten to limit time spent, or to suspend the account. Sure, the amount of time might look extravagant, but put that in perspective; would you rather have them spending that hundred hours questing, reading, thinking, problem-solving, or watching Spongebob?

If anyone is interested in playing LotRO with me and my kids, leave me a message or email me. The game offers a 10-day free trial if you want to look at it and see what the deal is. We play together, but are pretty casual, and we have a good time. There's always room for another friend (and often, there are referrals we can use to get you some free gaming time)

Thursday, September 24, 2009

~Please Won't You Be . . . My Roommate.~


Things to do today;

  • Apply for medical assistance, since my insurance is going to vanish in 3 weeks
  • Help Dad get his wireless router working again
  • Call the Maryland Court of Appeals and order letters of good standing for the job apps I am submitting everywhere
  • Come up with a killer metaphor to explain online friction between worldviews

Years ago, I read a life-changing, worldview-shaping editorial. And dang it, I've never been able to find it again, so I can't reference the author or publication. If anyone recognizes, leave a comment!

The author (a woman) made the bold statement that all men fall into one of two categories; they are either boyfriends, or they are husbands. I'm not proposing to recreate this amazing hypothesis, though after two decades of adult experience (and far too many experiences with dysfunctional relationships), I will assert that it is very true.

The polar, binary formulation of the above editorial is appealing. It forces us to decide which we are, to defend our behaviors, to self-reflect and categorize. There are so many of these dichotomies in life, not all of them are real; I believe in gradations. Continuums of behavior. But sometimes, the either/or really is true.

Are you a "Type A" personality?
Beatles or Elvis?
Ontime or late?
Star Wars or Star Trek?*
Football or Baseball?
Dem or Repub?

So I propose another binary; I've been trying to formalize my concept of online interaction. Blog-reading, facebook-friending, message-board-messaging. We encounter folks. Leave footprints. You ever had an awkward encounter with someone else online? Maybe they were too aggressive? Or too combative? Too distant?

Some people interact with their online-folks like they were real-life neighbors. See, there's a boundary between neighbors, even if they are apartment building neighbors. Walls divide us. Everything we do outside the home is open for review, everyone knows that. It's embarrassing if you have a fight outside, because everyone hears it. Of course some people really don't care who hears or sees everything.

If that's the metaphor, than we presume everything that we do on online is going to be seen, talked about considered. I mean, maybe we are boring neighbors, and no one will notice us. But folks who are online like that, they use nicknames for their kids (or even themselves sometimes) so no one can learn things they shouldn't know). They are very circumspect about what they say and do online in the first place; you'll never get an online neighbor to admit that they watch trashy soap operas.

But some people treat their circle of online-folks like they are family. Living in the same house. There is a presumed, very real intimacy. They stick to people that they really know, aren't trying to recruit new folks. Their online life is often an extension of their "real" life.

When people from the first group encounter people from the second group, things get weird.

Person A, "Hey, new-friend, great house, cool furniture, love how you've decorated the place!"
Person B, "Dude. Why are you looking through my underwear drawer?"

How do you consider your online friends? I freely declare myself to be in the neighbor camp. When I shared the depressing news that I lost my job on Monday, half of the recommendations and job suggestions came from people I've never even met in real life. They are friends, neighbor-friends. My online life is an open book.

But I can understand that this flavor of presumed friendship can be freaky to someone that spends most of their online footprint staying in touch with family and real life friends.

How do we bridge that gap? I guess just be aware that where cultures collide, there will be friction. If you are a neighbor, don't go barging into a roommate's "house" and trash the place.

If you are a roommate, and a neighbor shows up with a plate of cookies, just try to understand that in neighbor culture, it's a gesture of friendship and welcome.

I believe in the capacity of the human heart to bridge gaps. To be friends. Friendship is an act of imagination and an exercise of will. What kind of friend are you? How do you bridge that gap?

* Note: every true SF fan, every true fan of good art knows there is only one true answer to that question; Firefly