Northern Misfit

2011: A Year in 3D

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 11:35:00 +0000

2011 was the year that I lost touch with who I am. In every measurable way, I stagnated. Instead of pushing myself to grow professionally, I played it safe in a time-consming, dead-end tech job. Rather than grow my personal and professional circle, I lost contact with people I considered close friends. Most importantly, rather than crafting new stories set in far-off lands, I took shelter in the creations I loved in my youth. Battered and bruised by a half decade of mis-steps and loss, I gave up and hid from the world. Deep down I knew that. Worst of all, I didn't care.

The only creative escape I allowed myself was working in 3D. Though most of my efforts were spent either modeling, or facing technical challenges like rigging or designing a LightWave-friendly displacement workflow, I did manage to create a few images. I didn't put too much thought into what I put on the screen. I just let my build process be utterly unedited, and allowed the images to flow as they would.

Here, then, are the results. I've included a few "Work In Progress" (WIP) images to also allow people to see the flow from unfinished model to final image. Remember, for every finished 3D image, there are dozens of WIP images that preceeded it. As such, the renders I've included below are honestly a fraction of what I created in 2011.

Enough talk. Let's look a year of 3D images, shall we?

January & February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

NOTE: The NX-01 pictured here was modeled by my son, Alex Bruno. My sole part in its creation was providing image maps, surfacing, and the two final renders found in this article.

November

December

***

Well, that was sobering.

Seeing my work splayed out as it is on this blog entry makes me realize just how upset I've been this year. The choice of images is the biggest clue. Just as some people turn to memories of their childhood home, their beloved long-lost pets, or to that one special dish they eat while blue, I turn to Star Trek when I'm feeling troubled. I do this not because the show had any deep wisdom to share (though the little morality plays that made up the original series are still worthwhile) but because it reminds me of the security and simplicity of youth. It's my "safe place", and one that I'm aware I'll visit while I'm down.

Looking up at those images, I realize now that I wasn't just down, I was depressed.

There's no mystery as to why I felt that way. I've allowed myself to trade everything that I am for a steady paycheck in a dead-end job. Sure, it bought me security, but it cost me my soul.

Those images above were made by a man trying to re-connect with that part of his youth that still had hope. With every render of steely ship hanging in a void, I was expressing the lust for adventure and unknown horizons that defined me even a few short years ago. As each day passed and I saw yet another opportunity to escape whither and die, all I could do was create another picture to help me guide my way back to who I was.

Fortunately, there is good that came out of all of this. First of all, I've already taken steps to change my life for the better. I work out five days per week, have lost weight, and have a personal fitness goal that I'd just as soon keep private, thank you very much. It's kept me motivated for nearly two months now, and I'm definitely feeling the effects of that change.

Secondly, looking back over the year's work, I see genuine improvement in my skills. The most dramatic changes, in fact, occurred in December of this year, after I'd been working out regularly again. Though that was not a result I'd intended from restarting a genuine workout routine, I'll happily take the result.

Lastly -- and most surprisingly -- my Star Trek work resulted in my son and I being tapped for a new project that is both exciting and very fulfilling. So, despite the corny and cliche'd images above, the work did lead to something much better.

The moral, of course, is that it was far more important for me to be honest about who I am than it was to shove myself into a role that society expects.

As life lessons go, that's not a bad one to take from 2011.

So, what does that mean for the coming year? In answer I think I'll offer up a cliche' that goes very well with the images I've provided above: "Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead."
Here's to a better, more fulfilling 2012.

2011: The NerdPod's Year of Entertainment in Review

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 20:32:00 +0000

2011 was a year that was equal parts exciting, heart-wrenching, and trying. The entire NerdPod has been through the emotional wringer, and bears more than a few scars from the experience. With all of that, it would be understandable if I didn't craft a "Year In Entertainment" post for the past tweve months . After all, with everything that we faced, how the heck did we find time to actually be entertained?

Well, we did, and it was a terrific year to boot.

Before I get started, I will say this, though: Neither Skyrim nor Star Wars: The Old Republic are anywhere on this list. This isn't because I don't like them -- quite the opposite, in fact -- but because I need more time to really evaluate them. Expect to see them mentioned in more detail at the end of 2012.

Let's get this show on the road.

Really, she was cuter in person...

"Okay, just one more mission and I think I can nail the Elf chick..." -- MOST ENTERTAINING VIDEO GAME STORY OF THE YEAR

Winner: Dragon Age II

A lot of people have a serious hate-on for Dragon Age II. The team behind this sequel streamlined the experience found in its predecessor, Dragon Age: Origins (DAO). Players are no longer able to choose from a variety of races and backstories, and instead are forced to play a human named "Hawke". Instead of roaming a massive world, as in DAO, DragonAge II (DA2) is limited to the city of Kirkwall, and a tiny collection of external locations. Lastly, where DAO had deep tactical planning and the ability to micromanage your party's gear (which, to be fair, is a lot more fun than it sounds), DA2 went with a far more action-oriented model. The final result of all of these changes was a game that felt less a continuation of DAO, and more like a version of Mass Effect being played at the most violent Ren Faire in history.

Were these changes bad? Well, just do a quick google on "DragonAge II Sucks" and feast your eyes on the largest collection of whining since the Nerderati first beheld a digital creation named "Jar Jar Binks". You'd think that the developers had personally stopped by each and every one these people's homes and bad-touched them while they slept.

By contrast, I actually dug DA2. Frankly, for a busy corporate worker, father, parent, and part-time freelance 3D artist, DA2 delivered exactly the right amount of thrills, combat, chills, and plot twists to keep me entertained. I looked forward to each of my play sessions, and was both gratified and a little saddened when I completed my first playthrough.

So, what was it that brough me back to my couch to see this title through? Was it the graphics? Well, on the XBox360, they were competent, but not particularly noteworthy. (The PC graphics, by contrast, were really lovely.) Was it the combat? To an extent, yes, though there was far more button-mashing than I'd experienced in DAO. So if it wasn't the graphics or the combat, what wasn't the real hook?

Simple: The story.

BioWare once again gave me a solid, entertaining story with terrific voice acting and compelling resolutions. I cared about my party members, the world, and even some of the villains I faced. Playing DragonAge II felt less like being in a video game world than it did being engaged in an interactive season of a terrific Fantasy TV Show.

Um...you got your polygon jammed into my mesh...

Was it perfect? Of course not. The romance options -- though oddly emotionally fulfilling -- still come off as about as erotic as two GI Joes being slammed together in Barbie's Medieval Playhouse. Some of the combat did get repetitive, and yes, by the end of the story I was deathly sick of Kirkwall, too. Nevertheless, I loved my time in DragonAge II, and look forward to playing through it again.

Runner Up: LA Noir

Seriously, I would watch this show.

If DragonAge II was a great Fantasy series, LA Noir was a period detective drama with blood and bite in equal measure. Using a new facial capture system, players are forced to read body language and correctly choose the right clues to collar their perp in the fabled City of Angles.

Where LA Noir faltered, however, is in its gameplay. The interrogation system was hampered by a confusing set of clues choices to play against your suspect. This often led to failures that had nothing to do with evidence or logic, and more to do with having chosen the incorrect option to play against your opponent.

Lastly, though it was entertaining, I lost interest in the story in the last disc of the title. In the interest of full disclosure, I have yet to finish it. Regardless, I will, and I still recommend the game to people who like puzzles more than action.

"Oh, would this thing just end already?"-- BIGGEST GAMING DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE YEAR

"Come and give grandma a kiss..."

Winner: Fallout: New Vegas

Fallout3 is one of my favorite games of all time. Offering nearly limitless gameplay options, a massive world to explore, and some terrific extras, it's a game I wholeheartedly recommend to any RPG fans I meet.

With that in mind, it makes perfect sense that I would be excited to play the next game in its series, New Vegas. After all, what would be better than Fallout played in a different part of the country, and later in the game world's history?

An awful lot, it turns out.

Spoiler Alert: This reviewer liked the game a lot more than I did.

Fallout: New Vegas is a game that somehow feels like it is less than the sum of its parts. Big, messy, crowded, and crammed with detail, it still manages to be barren. Though some of this had to do with the game's engine showing it's age, ultimately it was the writing that let this installment down. Nothing about the situations you face ever feels clever, intruiging, or even the slightest bit compelling.

I finished New Vegas because I was determined to see its resolution. Once I did, I packed it up and immeditely traded it in at the local software shop.

Here's hoping its next iteration gets a new engine and better writers.

"Make it so." -- BEST BOARDGAME PURCHASE OF 2011

Winner: Star Trek: Fleet Captains

Simple. Nerdy. Fun.

Anybody who has even glanced at this blog knows I'm a major Star Trek nerd. I loves me my Matt Jefferies-designed starships, and I like the universe they inhabit. Sadly, though, there have been precious few strategic Star Trek board games out there, and even fewer that can be played in anything under a geologic scale of time.

Now with Federation Taxation Forms!

Enter Star Trek: Fleet Captains. The game's premise is simple: Each player commands a small fleet of ships for either the United Federation of Planets or the Klingon Empire. Their goal: Win controlling interest of a new sector of space. How they do this -- like the board, the ships, and the crews themselves -- changes every single time you play.

Oh, and the best part? A typical game lasts around one hour.

These guys are spot-fricking-on.

This is the Trek board game I've been waiting for since I was twelve years old. I'm just happy I finally get to play it.

Runner Up: Fortune and Glory

Nazi Zepplins. How can you pass that up?

Ever wanted to play a game where you're not only Indiana Jones, but where you have to compete with a bunch of other Indys to win? If so, Fortune and Glory is the game for you. Made by the increasingly-reliable Flying Frog Games, Fortune and Glory (F&G) both captures the feel of the Indiana Jones films, amd features compelling gameplay to boot.

The only thing that kept F&G out of the top spot, though, is that it's easily one of the toughest games we played this year. Setbacks are constant, and the title can run a couple of hours longer than you'd first expect. Regardless, it's a great game, and I'm proud to have added it to my collection.

"FOR EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON..." - BIGGEST CHANGE OF DESIRE OF 2011

When the only entertaining element for me are the crash videos, it's probably time to move on.

Winner: RC Flying

When I took up RC Flying in 2006, my goal was simple: I wanted to satisfy that twelve-year-old kid in me that had always wanted to fly RC airplanes. I jumped in with both feet, and was excited to enter the community of RC pilots.

Only one problem, though: I really, really didn't get along with the local RC pilots. At all.

During our clean-out-to-move-out efforts this year, I divested myself of a few of my planes. I sold them for a loss to another RC aircraft enthusiast who had all of the charm of a Pirhana with a toothache. I didn't get rid of all of my birds, but I plan to this coming summer.

Do I regret the time and money I spent on the hobby? Not at all. Now, though, I'm looking forward more to just jogging this summer than I am farting around with ESCs and foam birds.

***

Finally, a new catagory for the Year of Entertainment in Review: The "Best Video Game of the Year" award.

"We Have Lift Off!" - BEST VIDEO GAME OF THE YEAR, 2011

They're cute when they're screaming.

Winner: Kerbal Space Program

Kerbal Space Program is a Tinker Toy set for the frustrated Rocket Scientist in all of us. The development team at Monkey Squad made a title that combines equal parts charm, simulation, engineering accument, flight simulation, technical challenge, and out-and-out insanity. The result is a lightweight PC game that is just a little green ball of awesome.

If that's not praise enough, consider this: The game is technically not even out of Beta yet, but it wins my choice of game of the year. What does that say about it?

When I first tried out the title in July of 2011, the only thing you could do was try to get your three astronauts -- excuse me; Kerbanauts -- into orbit of their home planet of Kerbin. You had at your disposal a collection of fuel tanks, parachutes, engines, linkages, stage decouplers, and finally fins to make this happen. How you combined these into a rocket that could do the job was entirely up to you.

Excited, I cracked my fingers and got to work. How good a rocket engineer would I turn out to be?

Not so great it turned out. I killed a lot of Kerbanauts when I started. A lot.

So many little green widows and orphans...

Eventually, though, I managed to get them on orbit. Even later, I managed to bring them back again.

In the intervening months, the team has given us the Mun (Kerbin's Moon), as well as a whole slew of gameplay improvements. Add in a mass of freeware add-on pieces, and this title just keeps getting more fun with each passing month. Here, finally, is a game made for the kind of kids who read Footprints on the Moon cover-to-cover a dozen times over by the time they were thirteen, or who watched space shots on TV with a mixture of awe and wonder. Now, finally, there is a sandbox where they can really play.

Yes, it's actually fun to do this.

Kerbal Space Program is not a title for everyone, of course. It is, as its core, a simplified physics engineering simulation where would-be rocket scientists get to just play. Add in its educational benefits -- I seriously believe it should be used to teach basic orbital mechanics in the classroom -- and this is a less a game and more a toybox for the mind.

It's also not perfect. The world isn't persistent yet, so each space shot is made with no reference to the other. Though there are tabs for crew management, and references to "cost" for each space part, none of those options have been implemented. Finally, with no program to actually manage, the game ends up feeling a bit like a one-trick-pony. Fortunately, it does that trick better than anything else out there, and as such has won over my affections.

Caveat aside, Kerbal Space Program is my hands-down favorite game of the year. Best part? You can download it for free and give it a try yourself.

On to 2012!

2011: A Year in Review

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 21:03:00 +0000

NOTE: Eight years of this meme and counting.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?

Stayed at an American Youth Hostel. (Two, in fact.)
Interviewed for a Visual Effects position with an honest-to-goodness VFX company in LA.
Returned a major 3D package.
Walked four miles per day for over five months.
Sat in the captain's chair of the starship Enterprise. (Yes, really.)
Critiqued student VFX artists at the request of the local Art Institute.
Turned down VFX client work in favor of keeping my sanity.
Spoke to the creator of "Arkham Horror"
Quit drinking Diet Coke. (Seems like a small thing, but it really wasn't.)

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions?

Partially. Some were easier than others (work out more, for example) while others (write a piece of original fiction, and do at least $1,000.00 / month of VFX client work) turned out to be nigh-impossible.

3. Will you make more for next year?

Yes. Life without goals is just as exercise in marking time until you're put into a pine box, or scattered over some field.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Not close, but more deaths than expected:

As summer just started to warm Minnesota, one my daughter's friend's fathers passed away suddenly from a stroke. He and I had chatted a few times, and I'd always found him to be the nicest, most gentle man you could imagine. He'd been laid off from his architectural firm in 2008, and had endured a run of bad luck since, but despite that he was always pleasant in public, and remained focused on making things better for his family.

I used to see him walk his youngest child to the bus stop every morning when I worked from home. He would chat with the other parents with an easy laugh and smile. Finally, when the weather started warming up, I got up from my desk and went out to chat with him. He and I walked up the street and back again, talking about job opportunities in North Dakota, and my family's then-plans to leave the state. Nothing much was said, really, but it was nice to connect with him again.

He died three weeks later.

During his wake, his widow told me that our little walk had brightened his entire week.

His passing reminded me of a truth I'd long forgotten: Life is too precious to let good people live their lives in solitude.

The other passing was my wife's cousin. A life-long outdoorswoman, she was taken too early by cancer. We'd only seen her a handful of times during our time in Minnesota, but she'd always been pleasant and warm. It may sound trite, but she really will be missed.

5. What countries did you visit?

None, though two trips to Northern California and one to Orlando, Florida did break up our year. After pissing the same kind of money down a movie-making hole, I'm happy to have spent the cash on building memories instead of stress lesions.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A full-time 3D or VFX-related job
If not a VFX-related job, a job back in Technical Writing or Project Management
A regular gaming group
Another short VFX or animation piece for my reel, and just to show
A smaller belt size, and larger biceps

7. Tell Us About Your Year:

January 2011:

I started working in my role as a second-level Enterprise Application Support Engineer. I took to it like a duck to any non-viscous fluid, because -- let's face it -- I'd done this kind of work for years. It's boring, but at least it's daytime-only, and pays pretty well.
My family has what we now call "The Day From Hell", wherein we:

End up waiting in line for America's Got Talent so my daughter can audition with a friend. We show up at oh-dark-thirty, freeze our butts off, and are treated like cattle by the faux-Los Angelians running the show.
After two hours of waiting, my daughter's friend's family flakes-out on us. No, there wasn't even an apology offered.
Starving and aggravated, we hit a local eatery. For reasons that continue to baffle us, we get treated like second-class citizens by the too-pretty-for-her-own-good waitress.
Stressed-out, but not interested in staying home and playing video games, we decide to go out to play trivia at a local club
Apparently, this is a popular choice, as we wait in line for thirty minutes at said club to get a seat. Drunks stagger in, wink at the seating girl, and end up landing nice spots, while we're forced to wait. Yes, really.
Eventually, we get seated, and start to play trivia. We get two questions into the game before the trivia feed is shut off so that a local DJ can start pumping tunes.
Determined to relax, we decide to try dancing. We learn, instead, that young Minnesotans think a dance floor is for standing with a drink in hand so they can try to chat over the eardrum-splitting din.
Not everybody stands around: I nearly got kicked in the face by a dancer on the floor. His apology? "Dude!" Yes, really.
After we're treated rudely by a couple of drunken women, I have to restrain SpousalGoddess from nearly kicking the crap out of them on the dance floor.
When we finally decide to leave, our car is blocked in by a limo. I ask the drive to move, but he gives me attitude. I then couch my request in far less polite terms, and he finally hauls his ass away.

Yes, that all really happened over the course of one day

The Dude and I try out "DC Universe Online". It's fun, but is over even before it's begun. We quit within a month.
I turn down an assignment from Videomaker magazine. I realize that I've said everything I need to say about the microbudget film field, and have nothing compeling or interesting to offer.

February 2011:

Cabin-crazed, lonely, and desparate for a change of scenery, we take a whirlwind trip to San Francisco, California. The Dude can't come, due to college, but SpousalGoddess and Sporty Girl fall desparately in love both with the city and the region
I got offered a short 3D gig to create some nebulas for a video game. The pay is crap, the timelines are insanely short, and the contact is intensely rude. Already stressed by work and life, I turn it down. Life is too short for needless stress.
I decide to resurrect the Cranky Gamers online comic. This time, however, I decide I want more control over the images,and purchase PoserPro2010 to get my hands on some assets.
Spousal and I try to enjoy World of Warcraft again, but the magic is gone. We don't log in again for the rest of the year.
The NerdPod "Cuts the Cord" and cancels cable TV service. Instead, we take to watching TV on Hulu Plus on our new Roku, our Xbox360, and on AmazonPrime. We quickly adapt, and soon don't miss TV at all.

March 2011:

I create my first test frames of Cranky Gamers. Though the images look good, the process is far too time-intensive for the final product. The issue: Problems with Poser's LightWave exporter. I decide to go another direction with the production process.
Unhappy with the control, the file management, and the renderer in PoserPro, I opt to return the product for a full refund. This is the first and only time I have returned a CG package after use.
I attempt to purchase Quidam Pro, but its Web Store is down. As of December, 2011, the site is still up, but the webstore is still down.
I finish Fallout: New Vegas. It's a dud on the XBox, and I trade it in for store credit.
Spousal and I decide to try out City of Heroes again. After re-upping our accounts, and spending the better part of a day patching the title, we barely play three hours. The game that once captured my entire family's imagination feels boring, repetitive, and pointless. We quit and uninstall in no time flat.
I'm rushed to the Urgent Care, and then the Emergency Room, due to an uncontrollable bloating of my intestines. I'm diagnosed with diverticulis, and barely avoid surgery. I'm lucky that it's only bloating, and not a tear in my colon. It's a real wake-up call.
The combination of lonliness (we hadn't seen our local friends for five months at this point), cold climate, and even colder strangers finally broke our will. SpousalGoddess and I make the decision to move the NerdPod out west.

April 2011:

SpousalGoddess asks her company if she can transfer her job to the Cypress, California location. They look into it, but tell her it shouldn't be a problem.
I contact the DAVE School again to ask for more representation. I get some notes on my Demo Reel, update it, and am immediately in consideration for a position with Rhythm and Hues. I don't land the job, but I'm flattered that I was even in the running.
I finish prototyping another character using LightWave. I model, surface, and rig her with the intent to have her "act" in Cranky Gamers. The result is more-or-less satisfactory.
I shut down the Cranky Gamers project due to my day job. I work forty-five hours or more per week in front of a PC. As it turns out, the last thing I want to do is spend more time in front of a monitor. Besides, the seasons are changing, and it's time to go outside again.
After a brutal winter, the Spring thaw finally starts in earnest. The collective sigh of relief can almost be heard throughout the Twin Cities area.
Spousal celebrates the second anniversary of her diagnosis with MS by going for a four mile walk with me after work. She's holding up amazingly well, and has a terrific attitude.
My mother goes in for yet another back surgery. It's becoming a regular thing, and her pain is not diminishing.
Spousal and I start our pre-move heavy cleaning and detritus removal. More video games, books, and DVDs are sent to Half-Price Books, and even more clothing is sent on its way to GoodWill. The experience of removing the clutter is amazingly freeing.
Scully's position with Ron Thorton's Red Earth VFX evaporates as the company goes under.
GeminiTwin puts me up for a job at SteroD again. It doesn't happen.
With the thaw well under way, I start my four-mile-per-day hiking habit.

May 2011:

I apply for a job as a Render Wrangler on Battlestar Galactica: Blood and Chrome. I land a Skype interview, and have the VFX coordinator for season four of Galactica tell me he really likes my reel. I decide that, regardless of the outcome, the experience is alreay a huge win.
I'm glad I have that attitude, because I don't land the job.
SpousalGoddess' workplace tells her she has an office in Cypress, California when she wants it. We're ecastatic.
SpousalGoddess' workplace then drops a bomb on her: They want to promote her. It's a better position, but it would mean staying in Minnesota even longer.
The Dude finishes his first year of college. He's loved learning, but tells us in no uncertain terms that he does not like either UND or Grand Forks. He wants to transfer somewhere else ASAP.
Scully lands a job with Digital Domain. I'm jealous: That's a company I really wanted to work with.
The Dude's long-term (nearly two year) girlfriend dumps him literally upon stepping off the plane after six months in Europe. Within days she regrets the decision, and tries to get back with him, but he's having none of this. "I was a good boyfriend," he says. "I deserve better than that."Considering all of the mistakes I made at his age regarding women, I'm incredibly proud of his confidence and determination.
Upon return from college, The Dude tries to go back to his job at the local cheap theater. Despite regularly being one of the hardest workers in the place, they refuse to bring him back. Instead, they staff the place with stoners who literally don't know how to work. He's insulted, but decides to look for another job.
I call Saveau on my drive home from work, as I'm wont to do two or three times per month. It's a nice chat, and we hang up with the promise to talk again soon. I don't know it at the time, but it's the last time I'll speak to him all year.

June 2011:

Kate's friend's father passes away suddenly. We're all shocked and saddened.
I'm invited to review the Art Institute's first year studen projects as a VFX pro. I'm flattered, humbled, and terrified all at the same time.
After much deliberation, The Dude decides that an Associate's Degree in VFX will serve him fine, and opts to go to the DAVE School after the summer is over.
I contact the DAVE School to check on the new program and to confirm details. I'm told the Associate's Degree is still there, though "...it won't transfer anywhere...", and that the placement rate post-graduation is over eighty-five percent. I'm skeptical, but still excited.
GeminiTwin surprises me by quitting StereoD, and heading back home to New York State. The grueling conditions (sometimes topping over 100+ hours per week, often with no days off for nearly a month) have finally caught up with him. He parts with the company on good terms, but is relieved to be done.
We see Garrett for the first time in over five months. He stops by to play games, but ends up having to leave early, as his workplace called. We can't help but enjoy the irony that many people cut off contact with us for supporting him despite his crime, and yet we never really even see him.
The Dude and I discover an amazing hobby store in Minneapolis. It's one of the best model shops I've ever seen, and is filled with the kind of kits that would have sent my twelve-year-old self into apoplectic fits of delight. We're ecstatic.
SpousalGoddess' promotion comes through, just as she finishes a three week run of work with nearly no time off. It's an exhausting period that leaves nerves frayed.

July 2011:

LersTherin's family comes down for a trip over the Fourth of July weekend. They only stay one two nights, and we don't see them again for the rest of the year.
I realize with a start that it's been six years since I wrote Pray for Daylight, and four years since it had its big screen premiere. Somehow, it seems like much more time has passed.
During our guest's visit, we take them to observe CONvergence. Surprisingly, upon arrival, both Spousal and I realize how much we would have like to have gone, just to nerd-out this year. After their departure, we head back down just to sit in the lounge and chat with people about all the things we never get to talk about in our day-to-day lives.
My job starts to get to me. It's utterly dead-end, and though it pays well, a layoff would leave me far worse-off than ever before. I start to look for another position.
The Dude and I discover the Kerbal Space Program video game. It inspires me to create some cartoonish characters and videos just for fun.
The NerdPod heads south to Orlando to tour the new-and-improved DAVE School. Though the trip turns out to be great for providing me closure, it's a bust for his education: DAVE School is no longer accredited, and as such would not grant him a degree. He opts to look for another institution.
Salvaging the trip as a family vacation, we hit NASA to see the sights again. As luck would have it, the visitor's center is hosting a Science Fiction event. Among the props and costumes is a replica of the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise from the original series. I finally get to live a life-long dream, and sit in the captain's chair of my favorite fictional ship. It's just plain awesome.

August 2011:

I try to contact Saveau to talk to him about The Dude's DAVE School experience. He won't pick up the phone. So begins a six-week long attempt to communicate with him. I'm finally informed by a mutual friend that he's unable to communicate with us because of his spouse, and the entire NerdPod is deeply saddened.
The Dude attempts to transfer into a local Community College to finish out his General Education courses for his degree. He ends up being too late, and opts to start in January, 2012.
I throw The Dude some 3D work from clients. Despite a much more active market, I end up taking practically no work. The reason: The pay stinks. I find myself unwilling to subject my son to no-notice Friday-Afternoon-Need-By-Monday client work for the equivilant of McDonald's wages.
The Dude and I play occasional games of Star Trek Online together. It's not a great game, but it's also not terrible, and it's something we can do together.
My mom goes in for yet another surgery.
I'm interviewed for Tech Writer jobs, but they're all six-week-or-less assignments. I walk away from them in disgust.
The Dude decides to build as accurate a mesh of the NX-01 as he can. It turns out to be a monumental task, but he never gives up.
Spousal and I are saddened to see a marked decline in the quality of food, entertainment, and -- frankly -- clientele at the place we'd called our "Bronze" in 2010. Once a somewhat sophisticated suburban center that housed comedy shows and good bands, it now caters to bingo, all-day "Happy Hours", and to a crowd that seemingly wears nothing but hunting clothing. Add in a loss of good servers in favor of nastier barfly types, and we strike it off of our list.
After an entire summer of trying, The Dude lands a job at two local workplaces: A major pizza place as an order-taker, and a clerk at a local Software Slinging Shop. Sadly, his hours at the pizza place get reduced to zero almost immediately, and he ends up just working at just one job, despite technically being in two.

September 2011:

It's now been a year since I've been part of the new group at work, and I'm feeling increasingly lost.
The Dude finishes his NX-01. It generates some nice commments on a couple of forums, and on Facebook -- particularly from some pros -- but oddly is treated with hypercritical scrutiny on our old standby online 3D hang-out. He's a little taken aback, but presses on.
I knock out a motion-capture animation of one of my Kerbal characters. It's received well, but gets no response from the game developers. I begin to get the distinct impression that my entire VFX-focused work desire is a case of a baying up the wrong Sequoia.
Spousal and I make a point of going out more, just to be more social. We no longer push to meet people, and instead just relax in the moment. Ironically, we end up in some lovely conversations with many strangers, but don't make any new friends.
I'm actively head-hunted for a job with a local firm. I do my first interview, and am told to wait for another call.
Despite having seen our local friends more over the summer, SpousalGoddess and I decide we need to broaden our social circle. We sign up for a number of "MeetUp" groups, and decide to attend different events.
A frightening report about the health dangers of diet soda makes me quit drinking that bevarage cold turkey. I go from knocking back a twelve-pack of diet coke every couple of days to one regular pop per day.

October 2011:

I have my second interview for the other firm. It's sounding promising. I'm told I'll hear more in the coming weeks.
The Dude and I head to one of the local MeetUp gaming events at The Source, but, after getting the stink-eye from the players, decided to stop at the Fantasy Flight Game Event Center instead. We end up having a terrific time.
Dropping diet soda from my beverage list has resulted in shocking changes in my health. I lose weight almost instantly, my mood elevates within days, and I find myself calmer than I have been for years. I find myself wondering what permanent harm that crap has done me.
I pick up the Star Trek: Fleet Captains board game, and The Dude and I play it a number of times. It's a terrific title.
We spend my birthday weekend at the "Arkham Nights" Event at the Fantasy Flight Gaming Center. It's a blast.
The Dude and I attend an After Effects, a Modo, and a Maya User's Group even in Minneapolis. It's time to broaden our personal 3D circle, and this seems like the best way to do it.
After spending some weekeneds with his friend at the University of Minnesota, The Dude decides that's where he wants to attend post-Community College.
The entire NerdPod, MagicMarmot, and two of his friends hit the various haunt crawls around Minneapolis. It's a nice way to enjoy the season.
Spousal and I dress up as Romans for Halloween, and hit various night spots around town. We end the evening dancing at a local bar and its costume party, and have a great time.

November 2011:

The weather in Minnesota remains unusually warm through the early part of November. Not only does this allow us to continue hiking the four mile lake trail longer than ever before, it actually results in a marked increase in friendliness and warmth from people on the street. We accept this change with open arms.
Spousal and I attend two different MeetUps in one day: A hiking group, and a "Bad Movie" group. The hiking group is nice, if a bit intense on their pace, and the movie group, while amusing, turn out to be more focused on drinking than anything else. We close out the evening with board games with Magic Marmot.
The swift pace of the hikers and uncomfortable fit of my clothing force me to realize that I once again need to adjust my exercise level. I'm none too happy about this turn of events.
We pick up the Fortune and Glory board game, and are excited to try it out.
I decide to build a starship mesh that I'd always wanted to try since I first touched LightWave. I knock it out in a week, and release it for free to a nice online response.
SpousalGoddess, the Dude, and I try out the Star Wars: The Old Republic. We love, love, love it.
The weather finally chills below real comfort levels, and I take my last four mile lake hike of the season. It's the longest stretch of time since I've lived in my city that I was able to make the hike a daily event.
The entire NerdPod heads out to Northern California for a week. Thanks to the kindness of a former sixth-grade classmate who happens to live near the base, and has access, I finally get to see Beale AFB for the first time in 27 years.
Arriving on base, I'm saddened to see my entire childhood neighborhood has been torn down due to mold and pest issues. Regardless, it still smells the same, and I find myself bewildered and overjoyed that I was finally able to show my family my "home town".
The week in California is spent driving up to Grass Valley, spending time in Sacramento, seeing the Muir Woods, boarding the U.S.S. Hornet, going to Alcatraz, and eating better food than we have in years.
Upon return from California, the NerdPod signs up for an "Anytime Fitness" membership. I start working out immediately, and attend five days per week afterwards.
Thanksgiving is held at the NerdCave this year. Spousal's parents come down for a visit, and we enjoy a nice four-day break.
The company that had been pursuing me makes me an offer. Unfortunately, it's not at all related to what we had been talking about over the last two months. I ask to take some time to think about it, as I don't want to rush my decision. My contact seems taken aback by this answer.
I carefully consider the offer, and finally agree to the new challenge.
The next day, I'm told by the new company that my lack of enthusiasm made them re-think their offer. They want to make sure they put me in the right role, and tell me they'll contact me in the near future. I try to not be annoyed by the time wasted, and fail.

December 2011:

We upgrade The Dude's former desktop, and now the family's "gaming system", to Windows 7, in order to ready for three of the four NerdPod members' entrance into Star Wars: The Old Republic.
Working out has resulted in clothes fitting better, in being able to run 1.5 miles per day, and in feeling more energetic than I have since 2009.
I get contacted with even more of my former DAVE School classmates. The picture isn't pretty: Only three are working in the field. There is a tremendous amount of disillusionment from my friends, and I can't help but empathize.
Despite a couple of snow falls, the weather in mid-December hits the high forties. It feels less like Minnesota, and more like Northern California, and I love it.
I look ahead to another year in Minneapolis, with the hope that things will improve for us in the coming months.

8. What were your biggest achievements of the year?

Taking care of my family
Sticking with my job, despite its shortcomings, to ensure our financial security
Modeling and rigging several characters
Learning MotionBuilder
Hiking four miles per day for seven months
Weight lifting, and recovering my strength far more quickly than I expected.
Running 1.5 miles per day
Keeping my 3D CG skills honed
Staying in contact with my DAVE School friends
Modeled and rendered numerous objects in LightWave

9. What were your biggest failures?

Not landing a better, more career-focused job
Losing contact with Saveau
Not writing. It's becoming a real personal issue for me now.
Did not focus on learning Maya
Did not push myself with MudBox
Did not meet more people
Was less social than I should have been

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Diverticulitis
Back strain from 9 hours per day in front of a computer

11. What was the best thing you bought?

SpousalGoddess' medicine
Gym membership
Star Trek: Fleet Captains
New running shoes
Three out-of-state vacations
iPad2
XBox Live Membership
Netflix membership

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

SpousalGoddess: When she was diagnosed with MS in 2009, we were confronted by the frightening prospect that she would not be able to work. Who would have guessed that two years later not only would she still be working, she'd be promoted? I'm amazed by this woman.
Our son: He's finding himself, and that's okay. More importantly, he didn't let his emotions get in the way of his life choices. I'm proud of him.
Our daughter: She's focusing on school now more than ever before. Her grades are up, and she wants to succeed.
My company. Yes, my job sucks, but they allow me to work from home three days per week. Any way you look at it, that's awesome.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled, or depressed?

Appalled:

Police Response to the "Occupy" Movement

Yes, when the protestors broke the law, they should have been detained. What they didn't deserve was random macing, pepper-spraying, and physical brutality for actually speaking out against the country's financial lord's and masters. The officers in question should be ashamed of themselves.
Depressed:

Saveau:

I've already written that I understand his decision. Unfortunately, that doesn't make me miss him any less. I've wanted to chat with him countless times over the past few months, and I miss his counsel more than I can say. Worse, my wife and kids miss him. Any way you look at it, losing contact with him was a real blow to my entire family.

14. Where did most of your money go?

College Tuition
Travel Expenses
Medical expenses
iPad2

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Spousal's continued remission
Seeing Beale AFB for the first time in twenty-seven years
The Dude's return from College
Two trips to San Francisco
Hiking, running, and lifting weights
3D modeling when I got a chance

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2011?

"California Girls", by Katy Perry

(What can I say? I have a teenaged daughter now.)

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder?

Happier. I know who I am, and I actually like me.

ii. thinner or fatter?

Thinner, and more fit.

iii. richer or poorer?

Richer.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Exercised
Animated
3D Modeled
Written.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Worried about my corporate job. It's a paycheck, nothing more.
Sitting on my butt in front of a TV.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

At home, hanging out with the family, and some friends.

22. Did you fall in love in 2011?

As always, with SpousalGoddess.

23. How many one-night stands?

None.

24. What was your favorite TV program?

Fringe

Yes, I'm a late-comer to the show, but I'm enjoying the heck out of it. The NerdPod is working its way through the seasons together, so it's been teat.

Community

How did I miss this show? Funny, sweet, and goofy, I swear it was plucked from the more tender parts of my psyche.

24b. Shows that let you down?

DOCTOR WHO:

Yes, I went there.

Without spoiling anything, the sixth season of the resurrected Doctor Who started with a literal bang, and ended with a lot of charming hand-waving.

There's only one problem: I expect more from my Doctor Who.

Worse, I'm actually tired of Amy Pond. Though I think the actress is both talented and lovely, I just feel that the petulant Pond has worn out her welcome. (Not Rory, though. Rory is fantastic.)

Fortunately, the season gave us the Neil Gaiman episode, which is easily in my top three best episodes since 2005. Unfortunately, I felt like devoting an entire year to the question "Who Is River Song?" was pushing it all a bit too far.

Here's hoping that the next season recaptures a little bit of the old spark.

SMALLVILLE:

The "Smallville" series finale managed to make me feel like every hour I'd wasted on the show and its premise was somehow toxic. The problems?

Non-sensical plot
Lame super-villain fight
Welling's refusal to wear the tights
Did I mention the insulting plot?
Chloe's Smallville comic book. So, does that mean everybody knows Clark is Supes now?
Dear lord, who crapped out the story? I've passed better ideas after having too much Indian food.
The effects
The craptastic, written in a cocaine-and-Red-Bull-haze plot

...okay, enough. Smallville turned out to be an enormous waste of my time. I actually regret the years I watched the show.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

Who has the energy to hate?

26. What was the best book you read?

"The Romulan War"...mostly because it was the only book I had the time to read. Frankly, it wasn't very good at all.

27. What was/were your greatest musical discoveries?

Lady Gaga.

No, really.

Think I'm kidding? Listen to her duet with Tony Bennet. That woman is seriously talented.

28. What did you want and get?

A steady paycheck
Time to unwind

29. What was your favorite film of this year?

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

This was the movie that surprised me. Good plot, compelling characters, and -- best of all -- a fresh new take on the venerable Planet of the Apes franchise. Loved it.

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Attended the "Arkham Nights" gaming event at the Fantasy Flight Gaming Center, and I'm forty-five.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Getting a technically creative job.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?

Business casual.

33. What kept you sane?

My kids
My wife
My parents
Building and animating stuff in LightWave
Working out
My friends, both near and far

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Gillian Jacobs. Growr.

35. What political issue stirred you the most?

Occupy Wall Street:

Despite the media outlet's trumpeting to the contrary, there never seemed to be any ambiguity about the message of that movement: People want the bastards who caused the financial crisis of 2008, who have bought and paid for not only our politicians, but for our media outlets as well, to be held accountable for their actions. That this wasn't blindingly obvious to anybody who just looked at this news baffles me.

Did the protestors misstep, and play the "Hipster" card too hard? Yes. Were some of the protestors just there to protest because it was trendy? Undoubtably. Were some of them utterly unemployable? Absolutely. Regardless, the core message -- that the gulf between the ultra-rich, and the rest of the population -- still remains true.

Worse, the coordinated crackdows, and casual acts of brutality our police officers displayed were utterly reprehensible.

We're looking at troubled times ahead, folks. Time to batten down the hatches.

36. Who did you miss?

Saveau
Penmaster and Raven
Girder
GeminiTwin
MadMartian
RedFro
Scully
LewsTherin

37. Who was the best new person you met?

Met a lot of nifty people this year, but it was all in passing.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:

Trust your instincts.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

Regrets
I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention

I did
What I had to do
And saw it through
Without exception

...

I did it
My Way

Halfway to Ninety

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 18:06:00 +0000

I didn't celebrate my forty-fifth birthday. Weighed against all of the other life-changing events of the past few years, passing from forty-four to forty-five was just no big deal.

I did take some time off, though. I kept busy by helping The Dude with some of his chores, playing Arkham Horror at the local Fantasy Flight Games Event Center convention, and finally just going
for walks. All in all, it was nothing too strenuous.

When it comes right down to it, all I wanted for my birthday was to relax. Nothing more. Not only did it afford me the opportunity to learn the right way to play Arkham Horror, it gave me a chance to reflect. I haven't had much time for that lately, either.

As it turned out, I needed the time to reflect much more than I needed time to relax.

NO SPRING CHICKEN

I'm no longer a young man. I say that not in an ironic way, nor in a feeble attempt to garner sympathy. It's just a matter of fact. The average male life expectancy in this country is a mere seventy-five years old. Assuming I make it that far -- and, having survived my bout with sleep-deprivation psychosis, I know that it's no guarantee that I will -- that means I may only have roughly thirty years left on this planet.

Thirty years.

Huh.

To someone in their twenties, thirty years sounds like a long time. To a man of forty-five, though, it's nothing more than a very short trip down the corridors of his memory.

A lot can happen in thirty years, though. It is, quite literally, a life time. Consider me, for example. I am a product of my time. Everything that I am -- my tastes in entertainment, my career, even my creative hobbies -- was shaped by being alive in the past three decades.

Consider my nerdy pursuits. Star Wars -- the real one, not the watered down marketing behemoth that it's become -- turned thirty-five this year. Star Trek is only a month older than I am, while my favorite of the films -- The Wrath of Khan -- will cross the three decade mark this coming June. Dungeons and Dragons was first published in 1974, Gamma World in 1978, and Star Fleet Battles in 1979. All of these things that I love came into being within the past thirty years.

My career is no different. I make my living using a technology that was literally science fiction in 1960. The National Science Foundation's network (NSFNET) opened to other networks in 1988, tying a collection of different networks into something called an "Internet". In 1989, Tim Berners-Lee, a physicist at CERN, proposed a hypertext mark-up language that gave birth to the World Wide Web. In 1993, a web browser called "Mosaic" was released to the Amiga platform, allowing users to browse the web from a dial-up line at home. Those three technology infrastructures bought our house, and put food in my kid's bellies. I cannot imagine my life without them.

I could never have made my movies had it not been for technological advances that have all just passed the three decade mark. Pixar was founded by Lucasfilm in 1979, and helped drive the push towards photoreal 3D graphics. Another Lucasfilm spin-off company -- Droid Works -- created a non-linear editing program called "Edit Droid", that allowed video editors to work on a computer screen, rather than with with film, glue, and razors. Finally, word processor called "WordPerfect" hit the market in 1986 that forever changed how writers crafted their articles.

I could bring up Space War as the first video game, or Axis and Allies as the first modern mass-market wargame, but my point has been made: Had I been born in any other time, I would likely not be the same person I am today.

Still, when I look back over everything I've seen in the past thirty years, it doesn't feel like a long time at all. In fact, it all seems to have gone by too quickly. .

A very real part of me is still that twelve year old kid who laid eyes on a TRS-80 in a Radio Shack back in the 1979. I'm still that kid who dreamed of flying, of computer graphics that would fool the eye, and of going into space. I'm still connected to that kid, and for that, I'm happy.

All it takes to remind me that I'm not that kid any longer, though, is one glance in a mirror.

I'm not twelve. I'm forty-five. If I'm lucky, I have thirty years ahead of me. That begs the question: What will those years bring?

I don't know. How could I?

I can still make a few guesses, though.

THE SLOWING PACE OF TECHNOLOGY

I grew up in the dawn of the Information Age. I saw the 8088 processor evolve over time into the multi-core desktop computers people can purchase for less than the cost of a month's groceries. I've seen networking go from a squealing, slow, dial-up process to an always-on torrent of data flowing non-stop into my household. My son has grown up in a world that always had the Internet, and my daughter has always used her phone more for texting than for talking.

Given the wonderous changes I've seen in my lifetime, it only follows that I can expect to see some miraculous things ahead, right?

Not so fast.

First off, we've approached the end of Moore's Law. Microcomputers are no longer getting exponentially faster with each generation. This isn't because the engineers aren't trying; it's because we've reached size limitations for circuit board printing. Put simply, building computers the way we do today -- pressing circuits onto wafers of silicon -- will likely not see any significant improvements in the years to come.

There are some neat areas of research -- quantum and optical, in particular -- but it would be a real shock if those pan out in the next three decades.

Secondly, computer use is evolving. When my family moved to Minneapolis fourteen years ago, computer users either bought branded machines, or -- almost as often -- built systems from components they purchased online. A computer user had to be a technician, a system administrator, and an application manager all rolled into one. The purpose: To be able to write a few emails and play a lot of Everquest.

There is one major flaw with that model, though: Most people don't want to do those jobs. They just want a device to use as a tool. They want a computer to help them, not hassle them.

It's at this point that you see the rise of distributed computing.

Consider your smart phone. That's a computer you have in your pocket. With it you can check your email, update your Facebook status, tweet, and even -- if you have a good enough screen, and enough thumb dexterity -- perform actual business work on it. For many, the smart phone has replaced the laptop computer. Why haul a big device around when all you need is box the size of a pack of cards?

One of the reasons smart phones get away with being so small is that they don't actually do all of the computing on their own devices. Instead, they merely run small clients that in turn communicate to remote servers. The heavy lifting is done by a classic computer, while the phone acts as a delivery mechanism.

The upshot of all of this is that you can expect this kind of technology model in the coming years: Smaller and smaller devices that provide services. Computers will be more ubiquitous than they are even now, but much more seamlessly integrated into your life. The days of being a "mouse potato" will finally be behind us. Nevertheless, what they do for you will likely not be that different than what you already have in your pocket right now.

The future, it seems, has arrived. Now we just have to get used to living in it.

THROTTLE BACK

I've already explained my skepticism about "Peak Oil" doomsayers. Though oil is a finite resource, exploitation of the Bakken Formation in North Dakota, additional off-shore drilling, and an increase in fuel-efficient hybrid usage on the roads makes me believe we have a few more decades of the black stuff in our lives.

Unfortunately, it's not the supply that's the issue: It's the demand.

We have seven billion people on the planet now. That's three billion more than just twenty-five years ago. China is an emerging super-power, and with it has voracious energy needs. Other emerging nations only complicate matters. Suddenly, that resource pool we're talking about is going to be stretched very thin, very quickly.

Guess what happens when nations all want the same resource at the same time, but there is only so much of it to go around?

Fortunately, I don't think we're looking at World War III over oil. Instead, I expect research into biofuels, Thorium reactors, both land-based and space-based solar power systems, and tidal generators to help alleviate the oil needs of first world countries. In short, I hope that we will defuse any energy conflicts by lowering the demand dramatically.

Yes, I used the "hope" word here.   I did because there are technological hurdles on the path to real energy independence. Nevertheless, I'm deciding to be optimistic in this regard.

Either way, though, I expect the short-term squeeze on oil demand -- seen by the average person as increase at the pump, and in travel costs -- to further alter the average person's behavior. Recall, when oil prices spiked in 2008, people stopped traveling as frivolously, or as often. They kept their everyday movement to a minimum. Expect this kind of behavior to become the norm over time.

Fortunately, that's not necessarily a bad thing, either. Distributed computing has made the "home office" a thing of fact, rather than theory as it was in 1994. I expect more reliance on telecommuting in many careers, with a corresponding emphasis on local rather than distributed living.

Lastly, demand for public transportation will inevitably rise. Most metro areas will call for options like those seen in London, San Diego, and across the European continent. Trains will once again move most people to and from the places they want to visit.

I'm okay with all of these changes. I actually like the idea that we may have to spend more time at home, getting to actually know our neighbors, and traveling to-and-fro without driving as a good thing. Yes, I'll miss some of my independence, but if it means we don't have to kill each other over oil, I'm all for that option.

Of course, I could be dead wrong. We could end up in more nasty conflicts over rights to get more of the black stuff in the ground. In this case, though, I'm choosing to be hopeful.

ROUGH ROAD AHEAD

I'm not all sunshine and roses, though. I see some very dark, very disturbing times ahead for our country. The needlessly acidic rhetoric in the media, the pointlessly combative relationship between the political parties, and the virulent anti-intellectual movement leads me to believe that the United States stands on a knife's edge. We either deal with these disagreements rationally, or we succumb to our baser natures and fall into darkness.

At this point, it's a coin flip as to which direction we'll go.

I worry about the state of the nation. I worry that we might fall into another Dark Ages, fueled by theological rhetoric and anti-intellectual furor. I worry if I should take the signs I see in the media more seriously, and opt for the same path that many Jews did in Germany in the 1930s: Emigration. I worry that my neighbors -- never comfortable with our choice to raise our kids as secular humanists, and not in a church -- would, with the right prodding, turn on us. I worry...

That's when I stop. All I can do is watch our country. I can add my voice to the discourse, and try to stay true to my ideals and beliefs. I can donate to the causes I believe in, and volunteer for those things for which I have the strongest conviction. In the end, that's all I can do.

I just hope that it's enough.

I don't hope for my country, though. My hope is focused on something far dearer to me.

PUGNACIOUS PERSPECTIVE

When I turned forty, SpousalGoddess threw me a Star Trek-themed birthday party.   Though I wrote my blog entry about that event, one thing I didn't share was why I dreaded the date. It wasn't turning forty; I honestly couldn't care less about turning the big four-oh. No, what worried me was whether the fallout from making the movie in 2005 would impact who would come and share the day with me.

I was right to be concerned. The people about whom I worried were not among our guests that night. I didn't share it at the time, but their absence -- and their subsequent refusal to be part of SpousalGoddess' fortieth celebration only two months later -- hurt us deeply. It hurt for a myriad of reasons, but most of all because it was only then that we realized that these people had never been our friends because of who we were, but rather because of what we did for them.

That stung.

I've long since let go of my anger towards those individuals. They just turned out to be very different people than I had first believed. The fault for not recognizing that sooner is mine, and mine alone. Nevertheless, that experience had a lasting impact. I've become much more cautious about making friends. I no longer invite others into my home as readily, or offer to help in others' creative projects. I carefully gauge a person's interest in me and mine, and tend towards refusal, rather than acceptance. That day went a long way to making me a much more cautious, much more private man than I was before.

Much of this new behavior is from our experience with those people. Some of it was learning who our friends really were during Spousal's diagnosis with MS. Regardless, the experience made me a very different person than I was even five years ago.

In other words, I'm no longer a young man.

The world that I see before me belongs to my son, and to my daughter. My time as one of its billions of stewards, while not coming to an end, is waning. I want to hand a world to my children where they can succeed beyond my meager accomplishments. I want them to have all of the options I had, and more. That, in the end, has been the focus and purpose of my life.

More than that, though, I want my kids to learn from my mistakes. I want them to understand that happiness doesn't need to come only through exertion, but from acceptance. I want them to discern the difference between flattering acquaintances and respectful friends. I want them to comprehend that we can't always shape the world to our will, and often have to learn to love what we have in front of us.

Mostly, I want them to understand that the truest friends are those who respect who you are, not what you've done for them.

Fortunately, watching my kids deal with their friends over the past five years has proved to me that those lessons were well-learned. The skills they developed because of my errors are the same ones that will allow them to navigate the vitriolic waters of our current societal discourse.

For that peace of mind alone, my Stone Soup Films experience was worth every second.

DANCING IN THE RAIN

On the Sunday after my birthday, the entire NerdPod gathered at home. The 42" LCD hearth streamed episodes of Modern Family and Deep Space Nine, while The Dude and I played Star Trek Fleet Captains on the kitchen table. SpousalGoddess ordered in pizza, and poured me a thin drink to enjoy the day. We chatted, offered opinions, argued, and laughed in equal measure.

It was wonderful.

When my end approaches, I won't think of fretting over a shot schedule, or whether my job had any future. I'll remember the simple joy I felt that day, at home, with my family. It was the perfect way to enter my forty-fifth year.

I also know it's ephemeral. The Dude is living with home with us for college now, but in five years he'll be a graduate, and likely on to his first post-college job. In five years, SportyGirl will be a High School graduate, and into her first year of college. In five years we will likely not even be in the same house we live in today. In five years, Spousal's MS may have taken on another shape. In five years our world will be completely different, and in ways we can't imagine.

That's okay.

Fretting about the past is worthless. Worrying about what is to come is a waste of energy. All there is to do is what you can, for those who count the most. Everything else is negotiable.

Here's to another forty-five years.

The Fire In Which We Burn

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 20:58:00 +0000

"Jebediah Kerman", modeled in two hours, surfaced and rigged in another four.

WARNING: This is a long entry. No, I mean it; it's a really, really long entry. It's essentially my catching up with five month's of inactivity. You have been warned.

When I last touched this blog, the winter snows had yet to melt across the Minneapolis urban landscape. My son was still off in college in North Dakota, and my wife was still just a manager in her company.

Oh, yeah, and I was hinting at a big change for this blog.

Then life happened and everything changed.

HEADING OUT

We nearly moved from Minneapolis this spring. The combination of a brutal winter, lack of contact with any of our friends, punishing work schedules, and a general sense of ennui did us in. We'd had enough.

This wasn't idle talk. We had not seen Saveau, Garret, MagicMarmot, hell, anybody from the old days for months. MLRF had long since moved to Chicago, my Pirates cast mates were busy with their lives, and our attempts to meet new people through going out and saying "Hi!" had failed miserably. We were alone.

For those readers who have never lived through a long, snow-filled winter, let me assure that one thing makes the experience much, much worse: Solitude.

We realized then that we had a choice: Come up with a way of enjoying our lonliness, or change our lives for the better.

We chose the latter.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Moving with pay turned out to be a non-issue. SpousalGoddess got her company to agree to let her transfer to her Southern California office, and my company concluded that I could continue my IT role remotely. We made our list of house-improvement to-do's and started calling contractors. Come what may, we were going to make this happen.

Since we were heading to LA-LA-land, I decided I might as well pursue the Visual Effects field in earnest, just in case my current job vanished. Within a week I interviewed for a Visual Effects job at Battlestar VFX. (I didn't land it, but the visual effects supervisor from season four of Battlestar Galactica told me that he liked my demo reel. That made the entire experience a "win" in my book.)

The demo reel that nabbed me an interview

That wasn't my only avenue. I applied to multiple studios, while at the same time GeminiTwin tried and failed again to get me an interview with StereoD. Lastly, I spoke with the new head of placement at the DAVE School to see about getting myself represented. One way or another, the NerdPod was headed west.

Then everything changed again.

MEET THE NEW BOSS

SpousalGoddess got promoted.

One week my wife was looking at continuing her role as a manager in sunny Southern California; the next, she was offered a promotion to Associate Director.

There was only one problem: The new job meant we couldn't leave. She'd have to stay in Minneapolis for the role.

We talked about it, and seriously considered saying "No." In the end, though, both professional and financial factors won out.

So, in the same month we'd meant to be putting the house on the market, SpousalGoddess accepted her promotion. She had staff of her own now, resources, and genuine leadership goals. This was a move up for her, and something of which we were both very proud.

Regardless, in the space of a couple of weeks, we went from getting ready to leave to settling in for an even longer run in Minnesota.

On the bright side, we did clear out a lot of useless crap from the house.

THE DUDE ABIDES

In the meantime, The Dude came back from his first year of college. He'd carried a respectable GPA, and had loved school.

Unfortunately, in his year freezing in the northern tundra, he'd made a very important decision: He did not want to go back to college in North Dakota.

The Dude was quick to point out that he didn't want to stop college; he just didn't want to go to North Dakota. The brutal weather, the lack of an actual game design program (the University should have been ashamed of itself for even having it in the course catalog), and and no way to get into the art programs he wanted to pursue, made the location a dead-end for his growth. He still wanted his degree, but he didn't want it at that institution.

Over the year he'd been away, he'd kept his eye on the new and improved DAVE School in Florida. In the three years since I'd attended, the school had replaced its owner, its facility, and even parts of its program. Once something of secret, the school now took out full-page color ads in industry magazines like 3D World and 3D Artist.

The Dude and I talked it over, and we decided that the getting an Associate's Degree in something he loved -- and, more importantly, had talent in -- was worth waiting on his Bachelor's.

Just like that, the DAVE School was back in our lives.

We got to work arranging his time at the school right away. Spousal priced new tires for the wagon he'd have to use in Florida. I called and confirmed that the Associate's Degree was still in place. ("Yes," was the reply, "But it really can't transfer to anything.") Lastly, we scheduled a tour for the end of July. Since it was the middle of summer, we decided to make it a mini-vacation. No matter what, we were going to have fun.

Rather than getting a hotel room on International Drive (a place she'd one referred to as "A de-militarized zone with Mickey Mouse ears,"), SpousalGoddes rented us an apartment at the same facility that I lived in during my months of school. I was in heaven. Though the purpose of this trip was for my son, I couldn't help but enjoy the trip down my particularly memory lane. This was going to be awesome.

Lastly, I pinged Scully, who now resided two hours from Orlando for her new industry job. I let her know we were on our way down, and she agreed to schedule a meet-up when we were down there.

Before we knew it, the weeks had gone by and we were boarding a plane for Orlando, Florida.

I couldn't help but grin: I was going to get to see the DAVE School again.

Sweet!

BACK IN TIME

It only took me a few minutes for me to get my bearings once I was back on Orlando's roads. Sure, it had been three years before, but those had been great times; I hadn't let go of their memory quite so easily.

Within minutes I drove up to my old apartment complex. My stomach fluttered. I felt like I'd stepped back in time. It only became worse as we walked up to the door of our rented condo. Spousal had managed to get us the same room number as I'd lived in before. Though I knew it was impossible, I half-expected to open the door and find RedFro sitting on the couch, playing his PS3, or GeminiTwin cooking his lunch.

I hadn't realized until that moment how much I'd missed those guys.

We opened the door the apartment and the kids both gasped. The place was much better furnished than in 2008, but aside from that it was still the same kind of condo I'd called home.

"I could definitely live like this," The Dude said.

"So could I!" Sporty Girl added.

We settled in that first night by eating at the same restaurant GeminiTwin and I had chowed-down at when I'd first arrived. We hit Harry Potter World in the park, and finally went to sleep before our tour.

YOU CAN'T GO HOME AGAIN

"Wow," SpousalGoddess said as we drove onto the Universal back lot towards the DAVE School. "That's a lot nicer than it was before."

I agreed. The new facility took up an entire sound stage, and gleamed with new coat of pale yellow paint. The entrance was no longer a collision of movie posters, spaceship models, and a small desk. Instead the entire facility was polished and professional. Even the break room was more corporate than my days with the operation.

We were escorted to our waiting area by a nice young woman who was utterly alien to me. The Dude shifted in his seat from side to side like a greyhound pressing against its starting gate. He had been on a tour of the school with me back in 2007, but this was different. Now he was convinced that this was where he was going to be for the next year. After that, a career in the Visual Effects field beckoned.

I smiled. I remembered feeling exactly the same way on the day I'd arrived in 2008.

I sat back and saw a Captain America poster on the wall. It was covered with signatures from DAVE School artists who had worked on the show. I stood up and looked at the names more closely.

There, along the right arm, was GeminiTwin's signature. As I looked I saw even more former classmate's names included on the sheet.

My gut twisted. My reasons for coming home had always been sensible, and I'd even been paid for the work in the years since. Nevertheless, I'd always hoped to have my name on a movie like the one I stared at now.

Oh, well.

Then our guide arrived. She shook my hand, and The Dude's, and gave us her standard intro spiel. Then she opened up the floor for questions.

I whipped out my iPad and pulled up the list of questions SpousalGoddess and I had compiled over the past few weeks. I decided to start with a softball:

"So, just to confirm," I said, "This is a terminal Associate's Degree program, correct?"

I expected her to reply in the affirmative, as she had on the phone only three weeks earlier. Instead, she shook her head.

"No, we've lost the Associate's I'm afraid."

What?

I didn't say the words, but I'm sure my face reflected the question. I turned to The Dude and saw the faintest flush fill his cheeks.

"So..." SpousalGoddess said, breaking the silence. "He won't get a degree?"

"No," she replied. She gave it her best go, but even she could tell that this was not welcome news to anyone in the room.

The rest of the tour took three hours. We saw the massive new green screen studio, the amazing new classrooms, and even met with the school administrator. He was very impressed with The Dude's demo reel that he'd assembled for the trip, and clearly wanted him there.

Given the face time, I asked the administrator about the accreditation. The school had actually opted to pull back from their earlier accreditation in order get a better, more accurate representation of the education the students received at the location. They would be accredited again, he assured us. It was just going to take some time.

I appreciated both his candor and his time, and thanked him. Then we were escorted to the door and were sent on our way.

Remember, this is what he brought to ask for admittance into the school.

The car door had barely closed when SpousalGoddess laid down the law: "I'm not spending thirty thousand dollars for a certificate."

The Dude sagged in the seat behind her.

We spent drive back to the park debating the issue. Yes, he'd do wonderfully in the school. Yes, he'd probably land a gig right after graduation. Still, that money could be used for a Bachelor's, and he could still continue his own personal training along the way.

The next two days were tough. The Dude was devastated by the news. Visual Effects was what he wanted to do for a living. He knew he could do incredibly well at the DAVE School, and had dreamed of going. He also, however, dreamed of getting a degree.

"I can do this," he said as we sat in the same outdoor hot tub I'd used only a few short years ago. "But I need to know that the money we're spending will go farther than just a couple of jobs."

I talked him through his problem. Honestly, I was just as conflicted. I knew how talented the kid was. I knew he would blow the doors off of the program. Unfortunately, I also knew at least three incredibly talented 3D artists who had never been hired for even a single job. It was a risk I knew all too well.

Given the bombshell of the school accreditation, the rest of the trip was spent in something of a haze. We ended up hitting NASA to see the sites there again. The Dude managed to sit in a replica of the Enterprise bridge. We crawled around some spaceships, and generally tried to make the best of time that, honestly, we'd rather all have spent in San Francisco.

This was still cool, though.

We never did meet up with Scully during our trip. I tried to reach her the entire time we were down there, but never got a response. I later learned she was under crunch time, but it still was disappointing to miss some time with an old DAVE School friend. RedFro, too, was out of state, (ironically much closer to Minnesota than to Florida), while GeminiTwin was settling back into life in upstate New York after leaving StereoD in June. Somehow, not seeing these folks made me sad.

Wandering through the City Lights of Universal Studios was even worse. Here was the spot where RedFro slammed his arms to his sides and yelled "I need an adult! I need an adult!" as Scully touched him. There was the overhang that Scully, GeminiTwin, and I had walked along after seeing the dreadful Hamlet2. I didn't remember the stress of Block One in those moments. I just remembered my friends.

I turned to family and sighed.

"You know," I said "When I lived here I was happy to be with my friends, but I missed you guys terribly."

"We missed you, too, Dad," The Dude offered.

"Thing is, now that we're here, I miss my friends. I wish they were here to see this with me again."

SpousalGoddess just nodded.

When we finally left the state again, I realized I didn't know when -- or if -- I'd ever see those places again.

Strangely, I was okay with that. Life is about change. Somehow, embracing it now seemed easier than even a few years before.

A ROAD....WELL, HONESTLY, PRETTY WELL-TRAVELED

The Dude announced his decision regarding the DAVE School not long after we returned. "I have to get a degree first," he said. "I'll look into either DAVE or another program post-graduation."

I knew it was a tough choice, but I was proud of him for making it. He called the school and let them know. They expressed some disappointment, but understood.

Unfortunately by the time we got back from our trip, it was too late for The Dude to re-register for UND, or for the local schools. He opted instead to finish out his generals at a local community college, and head out to the local University or one of the design schools when he's got those knocked out.

One wrinkle: That meant he'd be out of school until January. My son had, inadvertently, ended up scheduling a semester off.

Oh, well. He's not the first college student to do that. He won't be the last.

Once his plans were solidified, he spent the next few weeks building an incredibly accurate model of the NX-01. He rolled from that into an AT-AT Walker, which is still in progress. He's also worked with motion graphic projects with me, and is learning from our Digital Tutors membership. He's keeping busy. It may not be the DAVE School, but at least he's still honing his skills.

Yes, he really made that model, and that image.

Finally, he landed a good job at the local game software store. He's taken to the gig like the proverbial duck to a pond, and loves going to work. Sure, he's frustrated to be missing a semester, but at least he's making the best of his time.

LOSING TOUCH

The biggest kick in our collective gut was our loss of contact with Saveau. We hadn't seen each other face-to-face since May of 2010, due largely to issues to issues his spouse had with my family. Instead, I'd call him once every couple of weeks just to chat. It was nice to hear from him, and to know how he was doing. More than that, it was good to have a friend whose ear I could bend.

Then, one day, he stopped answering my calls.

At first I wasn't too worried. He was a busy guy, putting in lots of extra hours.

Then it kept happening. Call, two rings, right to voice mail.

Something was up.

I texted and emailed. No response. I called again. Nothing.

Finally, I learned through a mutual friend that Saveau's wife had apparently decided that any contact with my family was tantamount to infidelity. Faced with that ultimatum, Saveau had chosen his family.

Just like that, Saveau was out of our lives. Here one day, gone the next.

Surprisingly, losing contact with Saveau was less painful than I'd expected. Though I miss him, and he's always welcome in my home, I respect his decision. Family has to come first.

Besides, not being willing to let go of the friendship would be utterly hypocritical. We'd been ready to leave the state only weeks before. One way or another, we were going to part company. I just wish it had been on better terms.

THE FACE OF THE BLOG

Lastly, there were supposed to be "Big Changes" coming to this blog. What was up with that?

Simple: I was going to focus this space more on 3D work, and on a 3D comic I was developing. I prototyped characters, got rigging under control, and even started looking at tutorials to write.

I actually got pretty far in the prototyping phase:

I even experimented with a more comic book-like look:

Yes, this would have been in the same comic. Yes, it actually made sense.

So, what happened?

Two things:

I. Technology Issues

Okay, I'm not a half-bad 3D modeler and animator, but very realistic human characters still present an enormous challenge. Since I had a very specific look in mind for the comic, and I didn't want to get bogged down with the technical aspects of the work, I opted to use a tool that specialized in human figures: Poser Pro.

My workflow was to be as follows:

Create the character and its pose in Poser
Save the file
Open the file in LightWave with their custom exchange system
Light and render the scene in LightWave
Wash, rinse, repeat

It's pretty clear that the whole process hinges on step three above. That custom interchange allowed me to utilize both Poser's and LightWave's strengths.

Too bad it didn't really work.

Oh, I could open the files in LightWave -- including animations, surprisingly enough -- but it was a flawed system. The textures were improperly applied to the models. Everything was pale and de-saturated. Result: I ended up having to re-surface the character for every single pose. Yes, that means every time an expression changed, or an arm moved, or even a hair was twisted, I had to spend thirty minutes of my time re-surfacing my models.

It was a nightmare.

In the end, I actually did something I have never done before with an expensive application: I asked for a refund. Poser, it seemed, wasn't my answer.

Not to be deterred, I looked at another option: Quidam. Not only did this package have a direct interchange with LightWave, it also created sub-patch cages for me to build characters the way I was trained. I obtained an evaluation copy, and within a week of experimentation had created a character named "Gina" for the comic:

Gina and her attitude. (Not really happy with that pose...)

Gina showing off some of her morphs and her rig.

"Gina" was a fun project. She allowed me to not only work with Quidam and LightWave, but also with UVLayout and MudBox. Finally, she was rigged with RebelHill's insanely wonderful Rhiggit. What would have taken me days to knock out myself took me a matter of two hours with his tool, and that was only because I was being finicky:

If it looks complex, that's because it is. It really, really is.

Happy with my results, all that remained was to purchase my license of Quidam and get to work. Off I went to the store, credit card in hand, and clicked on its web store.

Huh. It was down.

I tried a couple of hours later.

Still down.

"Must be a glitch," I said. "I'll try later."

That was February. It's now October. The Web Store is still down.

Balls.

Frustrated, I went online to buy a used copy. So far, I've had no luck.

Unfortunately, by this point the second issue with my process had reared its ugly head:

II. Forty-Five Hour Work Weeks

Guess what, folks: I'll be forty-five myself in a few days. Try as I might, I just don't have the same amount of energy as I had ten years ago. The result is, at the end of a long day doing a fairly crappy job on a computer, the last thing I want to do is sit in front of a computer to do more non-paying work. Besides, as the stories formed in my head for the comic, and the amount of work required was scoped-out, I realized I'd be taking on another Pray for Daylight-level committment.

Sorry, folks. Not again. Not for free, anyway.

I decided to focus instead on smaller projects to keep my spirits up. The comic is still on my mind, but, at this point, the kind of characters -- and their setting -- is a far different animal:

Given my hectic schedule, these little Kerbals -- named for the amazing free Kerbal Space Program game -- were modeled entirely by me in less than the time that it took me to model "Darla Jean's" hair at the DAVE School. They're cartoony, they're silly, and they're fun. If the comic project goes forward, this will be its venue.

Heck, they've even been fun to animate:

Jebediah Kerman goes for a stroll...

In short, I've not given up; I'm just re-focusing my efforts.

MAKING TIME

Lastly, this blog has been ignored because I frankly haven't had the time. (I think this entire post is a testament to that fact.) Nevertheless, I don't want to shut it down. I've actually found my own musings helpful here, to remind me what is most important in my life: My family and my friends. Everything else? That's negotiable.

I hope to write more here in the coming weeks. I think I need to. I just don't feel like myself when I don't put words on a screen.

As for today? Well, I have another interview, I'm waiting on a job offer, I'm working from home, and I have a Modo User's Group meeting to get ready for tomorrow. I'm busy, and that's okay.

No, let me re-phrase that: I'm okay because I'm busy. It's just the way I'm wired.

And that's okay.

Not So Wonderful Worlds

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 13:26:00 +0000

The Massively Multiplayer Game market is on its way to an early grave. It doesn't matter that World of Warcraft has a subscriber base larger than the population of Belgium. New titles like DC Universe Online and the soon-to-be-released Star Wars: The Old Republic? They don't matter. The genre as a whole has creatively stagnated. Unless something happens very soon, the days of MMOs may become a fond memory far sooner than anticipated.

BYGONE ERA

Let's roll the mental clock back to 1999. The Internet was still a relatively big deal. Only fifty percent of households even owned a computer, and of them only a little over forty percent had Internet access. Venture capitalists poured money into any hare-brained scheme that had the suffix "dot-com" attached to it, and didn't think twice. This whole "online thing"? It was going to be the basis of the "new economy".

It was into that world that Everquest was released in March of 1999.

Even for its day, Everquest's graphics weren't cutting-edge. Players were forced into a seeing a world through a tiny on-screen window that limited their field of view. The controls were clunky, the animations basic, and the goal ephermeal. It really wasn't a very good game. By all rights, Everquest should have come and gone without making a wave in the then-thriving PC game market. Instead, it became a title so successful that it drove the creation of the MMO industry as we know it today.

What made the difference?

Simple: People saw other people playing the video game with them. Not just one, or two, or sixteen, but dozens at a time. Players were no longer sitting alone in front of their monitors, engaging in Walter Mitty-esque acts of pre-scripted heroism. No, they were individuals in a community, and there was a brand new world out there for them to conquer.

In a world where we text childhood friends on our phones with a swipe of our thumbs, the idea that players were dazzled by seeing another person's avatar seems as quaint as hearing our grandparents remenisce about the first time they saw a television. Being digitally connected to others is not only commonplace now, it's bothersome. Yet to a world not very long ago, playing a game with people from around the country was spitting-distance from magic.

The game wasn't only about meeting people, of course. Norrath was an entirely new world for players to explore. Better still, they could explore it together. What could be better than that?

Everquest was such a monster success that a whole parade of titles followed. Star Wars Galaxies, City of Heroes, Dark Age of Camelot, and others offered players new worlds to explore, and new people to meet. Eventually, the 800 lbs gorilla that was World of Warcraft entered the arena. MMOs were here to stay.

Too bad the games are pretty much all the same.

DON'T HATE THE PLAYER, HATE THE GAME

MMOs have become the victims of their own success. Fearful of making costly mistakes, publishers have shied away from innovation and instead stuck to tried-and-true formulas. The result is both ironic and sad; in a genre built around the idea of sweeping their players off to a magical otherworld, publishers have instead created a sea of homogeneous titles. It doesn't matter if a player is tromping through a Sword and Scorcery Fantasy world, or navigating a starship in the Final Frontier. The graphics might be different, but the gameplay is a cookie-cutter as a suburban neighborhood.

The publishers can't be blamed for being cautious. Making MMOs is an expensive endeavor. They're also -- and this is a really, really important point here -- businesses. This means they are first and foremost in in the business of making money. If that means they take a less-risky but well-established approach to being profitable this quarter, so be it. Given the Belgium-sized subscriber base of World of Warcraft -- a game that eschewed innovation entirely in favor of hardcore polishing of existing mechanics -- that strategy was sound.

That the dumbing-down of the MMO genre has been a success isn't much of a surprise. Most of their core demographic came of age in a world where the letters "M-M-O" are synonymous with World of Warcraft. The wild-and-wooly days of exploring the worlds and adventures without maps and plugin helpers is beyond their ken. No, MMOs mean "lead-you-by-the-nose" solo gameplay. No thought required; just follow the big arrow to your quest item, click the same buttons fourteen times, and get experience. Wash, rinse, repeat.

It's really sad. These worlds stop being living, breathing entitites, and instead become nothing but the world's saddest theme parks.

Worse, there is nothing inherintly social about them any longer. Games are designed to be played solo. Other players? They aren't allies. They're either hunting your drops or are griefing your faction. They are, in fact, a bit of the pain in the ass.

Wow, what a magical world.

The final blow to the innovation of the titles is the "Free-to-Play" (F2P) model of subscription. Players no longer need to buy a client, or even pay a monthly fee to enjoy the title. They can login and play the game without spending a cent.

Well, sort of.

You see, some of the best gear is going to cost you money. Not in-game gold pieces or credits; actual cold, hard cash. Sure, you can play without that gear, but the game is going to be a lot harder.

Oh, and remember how I said you could play for free? Well, depending on the title, that might not be the case. You can play to, say, level 11 for no charge. After that? Well, levels 11 through 21 are going to be $9.95, please.

As a business model, F2P has been a brilliant success. It's resurrected failing titles like Dungeons and Dragons Online, Lord of the Rings Online, and even Champions Online and allowed the companies to turn a profit. Better, for fans of those particular sub-genres, they get the title they want, and can decide how they spend their monthly money.

Unfortunately, the immersion into these magical worlds is shattered when the damned game keeps hitting you up for cash like those annoying card-hawkers who line the Vegas strip. Yeah, I get it, they need to make money, but can they stop being all up in our face about it for a second?

All in all, the state of MMOs is depressing. Those "Worlds of Wonder" I once wrote about have all devolved into theme parks and shopping malls..

What, then, is the incentive to even play?

CHANGING THE WORLD

I'm not the only blogger asking this question. Even industry websites are acknowledging this feeling of online ennui. The sense of genre fatigue is overwhelming.

If MMOs are to thrive and grow beyond their current state, they're going to have to break their habits. They're going to have do things radically differently in order to recapture at least some of that wonder of an artificial share space presented in 1999.

Some of these changes are going to be technological. Others are going to be philosophical. None of them are going to be easy.

Here, then, are a few ideas:

1. Seamless Worlds

When World of Warcraft premiered in 2004, it took a page from Chris Taylor's Dungeon Siege and made the world entirely open. No loading screens. Players transitioned from place to place with nary a loading screen in sight. (Well, until they crossed the ocean, that is.)

This one design choice made Azeroth feel more like a place than any other single aspect of the game design. Once I saw this, I was certain that this would be standard in MMO design going forward.

Now, in 2011? Not so much.

MMOs have not only not embraced these zoneless worlds, they've actually become far worse. Games like Star Trek Online are particularly aggregious. Players zone when they enter their starbases, zone into different parts of the same starbase, zone when they beam to their ships, zone if they want to walk around their ships, zone if they need to scratch themselves...

You get the idea.

Enough. No more zones.

Using the Star Trek example above, I want to walk my character around a starbase, and -- rather than beam to my ship -- walk into and pilot a shuttlecraft to my ship. I want to land in the shuttle bay, take the turbolift to the bridge, sit down, and keep playing.

No breaks. No interruptions. Just flow from one location to the next. A truly seemless, interconnected world.

Make it happen and players will come.

2. Connect the Player to the Avatar in Real-Time

Video cameras have become ubiquitous on PCs over the past five years. Real-time video chat is commonplace. Even more exciting, teams are developing ways to do real-time facial expression tracking for motion capture to transfer to animated characters.

What does this have to do with MMOs?

Imagine this: You're on the shores of a lake, working on building your newest merchant boat. You see a comely young female character approaching you. You walk over and say "Hi!"

You can do that now, of course. You just have to move your character to the other person, click on the other avatar, and type "Hi" into the chat window.

Imagine, then, a game where you just look at the character, move over, say "Hi!" with your mouth, and the other person both hears a digitaly altered version of your voice, but also sees your avatar's mouth move, and your expression mirrored on the character on screen.

Yes, your face actually drives the face of your avatar. Let that idea sink in for a second.

Laughing? That stops being the used-to-death "LOL", and instead becomes the sight of a person throwing their head back and actually laughing. Conversations become verbal, not typing exercises again. More to the point, your avatar becomes a reflection of you in more ways than your stats scores.

This one change alone would help reinvigorate the social aspect of MMOs once again. Make it happen.

3. Re-Bootable Worlds

If there is one complaint that classic pencil-and-paper role playing game players have with MMOs, it's this:

"Nothing I ever do matters. Sure, I can do the quest chain, but it doesn't mean anything because there is a line of fifteen other people behind you waiting to do it, too."

The response to this apt criticsm to date has been "It's the nature of MMOs." After all, with thousands of people playing, you have to keep them all entertained, don't you?

Still, wouldn't it be nice to play an MMO where what you did actually did change the world for everyone, if only for a little while?

One possible solution to this issue is to borrow the concept of "re-bootble worlds" from the multiplayer Flight Simulation market. In the simulation Aces High 2, pilots on all three sides of the war fight to take over several maps over the course of the campaign. Winners get better resources, faster repairs, and more airfields, and losers get boned.

Why do players keep playing then? If you're on the losing team, why would you put up with it?

Simple: Once the war is one, the world resets. A new campaign begins, and the players can try to change the outcome.

Of course, a flight sim combat environment doesn't have a tenth of the complexity of an MMO to deal with. Regardless, imagine:

A World of Warcraft server where Horde attacks could actually capture and claim Alliance territories...and their resources.
An Age of Conan server where your choices can actually lead you into heading up a large group of NPCs to disrupt the factions.
A City of Heroes server where you, as a Villain, turn entire blocks of pedestrians into your supporters with nothing more than an well-played PR campaign. This erodes hero's abilities to do their jobs unhindered in those zones, and impacts all players on a server.

When certain well-published conditions are met, the servers reset and the world starts over again.

Realistic? No. Doesn't matter. It allows users to have impact on their "worlds", if only for a while. Heck, you don't even have to worry aout the logic of the situation. Hand-wave the silliness away by calling it a temporal loop, a magical trap, or a karmic bubble, and you're good.

Lets try this out. You'd be amazed by what your players will do with a world they can really impact.

4. Character Aging & Death

I actually spoke about this idea years ago. I still stand by the idea that characters should age, and even allow there to be "family trees" of characters with inheritence, ownership, the whole shebang.

The one new idea I have is this: On selected servers, once characters get past a certain level, let them "run out of lives" and die.

Yes, die.

All good characters should see their end. I'd much rather see my toons die in battle than rot away on a database until they're archived.

Is this risky? Sure. But I think it's worth testing out.

5. Meaningful Non-Combat Gameplay

One of the best parts of Star Wars Galaxies in its heyday was that it had player-created cities. There were player-run, player-managed locations where my avatar could rest up, heal-up, and resupply before went out into the wastes of Tatooine again.

We need to see that kind of innovation in MMOs again.

Imagine a game where you could level your avatar doing nothing more than running a city, managing NPCs, and generating income for yourself and others.
Imagine a game where you can build a boat and level just by sailing and exploring.
Imagine a game where combat is something that may happen, but doesn't have to happen.

We need that kind of innovative thinking applied to MMO titles again.

6. Living NPCs

MMO developers, listen up. I've had it with human-shaped vendomats. When I wander into a city, I want to see NPCs doing things. I want to see the shopkeep cleaning, the baker baking, and the blacksmith hammering. More to the point, I want them to have to stop to talk to me. If there are a lot of people around, I should have to wait in line.

Aggravating? Sure, a little. But it also makes the world memorable, and living.

Even better, I want to be able to hire NPCs. Not to adventure with me, but to handle other tasks. Tend my gardens, maintain my ships, that sort of thing. Even better, I want my avatar to have a relationship with these characters.

For guidance I recommend playing the latest Bioware titles. They've got the right idea. Add in the self-motivated NPC logic from Bethesda for Oblivion and Fallout3, and you've got the idea.

7. Real World MMO

Imagine a nature hike where, half-way through the two mile trail, you get jumped by creepers from Minecraft.

The creepers aren't there, of course. They're only visible on your display glasses connected to your smart phone. The phone, in turn, is connected to an MMO server that allows you to play scenarios based on hiking trails around the country.

Silly? Sure. A neat way to make hiking even more fun? Yep.

Barring that, with devices like the Kinect entering the house, MMO developers can't ignore the "get-your-ass-off-of-the-couch" demographic of MMO players out there. I've said it before and I'll say it again: If the averag World of Warcraft player was forced to actually walk on a treadmill to make their Avatars move on screen, there would be a marked decrease in obesity in that demographic.

So, there's your challenge: Make an MMO that gets people to move, gets them fresh air, and gets them healthier.

Good luck.

BOTTLED LIGHTNING

These might all sound like pie-in-the-sky ideas, but they're made for a serious reason: MMOs are stagnating. It's time to shake up the status quo and do something different.

As for me? Well, after a brief flirtation with World of Warcraft last winter, I'm off of the MMO bandwagon again. I just have too much on my plate. Sure, I'm excited by Star Wars: The Old Republic, but aside from that, I'm non-plussed. (It probably doesn't help that my job actually plays like the dullest MMO in the world, but that's a topic for another rant.)

MMOs offer a terrific chance for people to blow off steam in ways that few other forms of entertainment provide. Unfortunately, they're caught in development mindset that is acting against the genre's growth. Only by accepting that things have to change will they change.

A FAREWELL TO FAR HORIZONS

As with my entry about Pray for Daylight, this post marks my last entry about MMOs. With this piece I've said nearly all I have to say on the matter.

I've enjoyed talking about these titles on this site. I hope that this piece, and my Worlds of Wonder series entertained my readers.

As for me? Well, Avindair the Night-Elf is sleeping in an inn somewhere. Avindair on Star Wars Galaxies is asleep aboard his ship orbiting Tatooine, and Dark Ashaman in City of Heroes is still sleeping with the fishes.

Fitting ends for heroes? Not really. But they are endings. For that at I'm grateful.

PRAY FOR DAYLIGHT: FIVE YEARS LATER

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 22:17:00 +0000

If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't have made Pray for Daylight.

Well, not the one we made, anyway.

Stone Soup Films' Big Movie was a compromise from the moment I started writing the script:

I wanted to make a Science Fiction Film, but funding fell through, so I opted to make another vampire flick
I wanted to make a 30 minute short, but features got festival play, so I pushed for a feature instead
I wanted to make Blood Fugue, the feature-length script I wrote in 2002 after Steve, but didn't know if I'd get the locations.

With so little going for the project, why did I even bother trying to make it?

Honestly, I very nearly didn't.

MISSED OPPORTUNITY

I nearly canceled production of what would become Pray for Daylight before we even shot one scene.

It was July of 2005. I had written and re-written the script for what was then-titled Prey, and just wasn't happy with it. I couldn't tell if the story made any sense, if our take on vampire lore played, if the characters were likeable, and if the dramatic needs of the lead were obvious and compelling. I was too close to it, and I knew it.

I put the script out for read-throughs on the Stone Soup Films board. I got some good feedback, and updated the script accordingly. It didn't help. Constrained by budget, location, and lack of stunt performers, the script felt flat, talky, and lifeless. It wasn't working for me at all.

There was something else, too: I was tired of vampires, Their whole schtick was just played out. Worse, I was tired of playing in somebody else's sandbox. I wanted to make something that was really mine.

Determined, I pressed on. I went through another revision, then another, and finally sat down and gave the script a read.

It didn't work. It was too talky, too serious, and a general downer. When I found myself missing the creepy charm of Steve the Vampire I'd had enough. I couldn't do it. Prey would not be made.

Relieved, I headed down to a LAN party with the cast and crew intent on breaking the bad news to them. I decided I'd tell folks about my decision about half-way through the night. That way people would be relaxed, and would be able to blow off steam afterward.

At the mid-point of the night, I headed up from my table downstairs and sat with ConradZero, Gamma Dragon, and Saveau himself.

Before I got to open my mouth, Saveau said "You've got to hear this!" He gestured to ConradZero, who clicked on a .wav file on his system.

A piece of music floated out. It was a little haunting, a little dark, but had a hint of hope to it.

"What is that?" I asked.

"That's the start to Saveau's theme," Saveau said. "Isn't that fucking cool!?"

I was stunned. Saveau? A musical theme? Really?

ConradZero then went on to play a few more pieces of music that were very much works-in-progress. It didn't matter. All I knew was these guys were already pre-composing music for the then-titled Prey. How could I say "No" to them now, and dissapoint their efforts?

So I didn't.

That one decision led to everything that followed: I lost Gamma Dragon and ConradZero as friends because of his wife's friend. I don't see Saveau any longer, either, because his wife has long-standing issues with SpousalGoddess and I partially based on that same incident. In short, by sparing my friend's feelings that day, I ended up losing them all anyway.

More than any other reason, that is why I regret making the movie.

TOO LITTLE BUTTER, TOO MUCH BREAD

That day lost me a Production Assistant and put the load of the movie back on my shoulders. I was very quickly overextended.

I tracked the work I put into the movie on this site. When I see those articles now, all I read is a catalog of how not to make a movie. Let's face it: I took on too much of the work. I needed to let go and have others handle more aspects of the project.

Unfortunately, that bad day had yet another reprecussion: I just couldn't trust that I wouldn't be left hanging again. Feeling like I had no other choice, I did everything that needed to be done.

With so much to do, no aspect of the project got my full attention. The result? The entire movie suffered.

TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE

One of the more embarrassing events associated with Pray for Daylight was a chidlish pissing contest I got sucked into back in October of 2006. For those who don't want to follow the link, here are the Cliff's Notes: I wrote a post asking why another film made in the Twin Cities that summer had been getting tons of festival play, while mine hadn't. It seemed like a straightforward enough question, and one I hoped to get some feedback on.

Before I knew it, rival cast and crew members hopped on my blog and bad-mouthed my movie in favor of their project. Since I hadn't said anything negative about their film, the attack seemed oddly hostile for so innocuous a question.

What I should have done at that point was walk away. What I did, though, was respond in kind. That was absolutely the wrong thing to do, and a decision I regret.

Regardless, one thing did come from that discussion: I understood that the other filmmaker completely stood behind his project. The Monster at Phantom Lake was exactly the movie he wanted to make, and he was proud of the final product. So proud, in fact, that he was willing to spend the money to promote it.

Which brings things back to Pray for Daylight.

Why didn't Pray for Daylight not get much festival play?

Simple: I didn't submit it to too many festivals because, frankly, it wasn't a festival-ready movie.

Pray for Daylight had a lot going against it. It defied genre, it played like a Soap Opera, and it avoided anything too edgy. Add in uneven sound, lack of real visual effects, and no nudity or real blood, and it didn't have a single "hook" to generate an audience.

Despite all this, though, I did submit to some festivals. I was careful to shoot for venues where I thought it would have a chance of being selected. I shouldn't have bothered. All in all, I only landed the movie in a handful of showings. Even then, it was always scheduled either late at night, or opposite big premieres. It was buried, and I knew it.

So why didn't I do more? Why didn't I call festivals, travel, badger people, and generally schmooze to get the title more play? Simple: I didn't believe in the final product. The movie just wasn't good enough to fight for.

I don't like writing those words. After all, a group of us put a tremendous amount of work into the project. But the only way to learn from a failure is to admit that it is, indeed a failure.

Of course, that was back in 2006 and 2007, when I was still mired in the post-shoot politics. Surely that impacted my opinion of the movie. How would the film play to me now?

PRAY FOR DAYLIGHT: LOOKING BACK

I wish this could be the point where I get to say "You know, it doesn't play that badly!" That's not the case. If anything, half a decade has been very cruel to Stone Soup Films' final product.

First off, a couple of things: I won't critique any performances in the movie. If there was a failure of any actors on screen it was due to the director -- me -- being too busy being a Line Director, cameraman, and line producer to actually engage them. Every misstep is one I own, not the actors.

Let's break this down.

The Script

Just as I feared in July of 2005, the script was confusing. My attempts to establish Cassie Banning as a vampire hunter in flashbacks were awkward at best, painful at worst. The result is a staid, stuttering story that only starts to find its own feet late in the second act.

Hamstrung by a tiny budget, the story also feels small when it should be epic. Where are the shots of vampires hunting humans in the streets of Minneapolis? Where are the creepy images of vampires wandering outside on a snowy day, safe from the sun's UV rays? Where are the shots of the Dhampir cutting into her victims? The movie needed all of those things, and had none.

Lastly, lack of a real script roundtable hurt the internal logic of the story. Why didn't the vampires just rush Cassie en masse when she was in Lucretia's lair? (Because they could only come so close to her without her sensing them is the answer that showed up nowhere on screen.) Why did vampires need human hunters? (For political reasons, this time barely hinted at in the script.) What did the police say about having vampires running around in the city? Really, all of this should have been on the screen. That I didn't construct a script that held up to any scutiny is a real shame.

That being said, the theme of the story is still one I find appealing. I like the idea of a dark character trying to escape their sins. In this case, though, the execution was wildly off.

In the end, I have to acknowledge that the script for Pray for Daylight was not ready for production. It needed at least four or five more re-writes. Or, honestly, it should have been shelved in favor of Blood Fugue.

Cinematography

Pray for Daylight is a pretty movie. It has some lovely lighting, some terrific framing, and appealing actors. Add in surprisingly good locations, and the movie looks far better than it had any right to.

Unfortunately, its look is hopelessly out-of-date. Shot on a 3CCD TRV-950, its resolution is poor by today's standards. For audiences used to the crisp lines of HD projects in even the smallest of amateur efforts, its quality just doesn't stand up.

Regardless, if there is something I like about the movie, it is the way it looks.

Sound

The sound was very uneven. Where we ADR'd it was pretty good; where we did digital clean-ups it was tinny at best, distorted at worst.

In retrospect, we should have ADR'd the entire movie.

Additionally, the threatening sound effects don't work. We needed to perform our own foley work. Going with freely available stuff worked for Steve, but for Pray for Daylight? Bad call.

Music

The music was always the best part of the film. It gave it a character that the script couldn't. The soundtrack is the one real big win of the movie.

Editing

If there was one aspect of the movie that surprised me with how badly it's aged, it would be the editing.

There is slow, there is languid, and then there is what I did to the cut of Pray for Daylight. The title could have lost 4 minutes of playtime without cutting a single line; all I needed to do was trim transitions and cuts.

That being said, the editing was competent. Moreover, the way the camera moved through coverage was still surprisingly dynamic.

If I ever make another movie, though, I'm letting someone else cut it. I think it would give me the perspective to make a better movie.

Fight Choreography and Photography

We never should have used our actors for fights. We needed stunt doubles, and we needed a fight director to shoot the combat. Asking our actors to do that part of the job on top of their normal duties was just too much.

There also wasn't enough time built into the schedule for fight rehearsal, and practice. The result was rushed combat scenes that did not play well on camera.

Lastly, the "Wheel of Death" desperately needed blood, and a full day devoted to photography. Rushing the physical climax of the movie was a dumb move, and one I'll regret forever.

(Ironically, in my post-DAVE School years, I realize how I could have added a lot of blood in post that would have looked great. Hell, Syeira could have cut people in half, and we could have had arterial spray everywhere. Doesn't help me now, though. Oh, well.)

The Movie as a Whole

If someone had showed me Pray for Daylight and told me it was a student's graduation project, I would have given it a B+ or A-. Not good enough for prime-time, mind you, but a solid effort. Unfortunately, Pray for Daylight was not a student project; it was a movie meant to stand on its own two feet. As much as it pains me to say it, it doesn't do that at all.

Pray for Daylight is a movie that suffered from a rushed script, ultra-short deadlines, and a tiny budget. Though it made a valiant attempt to be more than its pedigree, it still doesn't quite make it.

With so many flaws, there is little point in making the movie available on BlipTV, or any of the other myriad of sites on the web. Best to let it fade out of memory.

GOOD FROM BAD

Despite all of the negatives, Pray for Daylight did give me the confidence to go to DAVE School, to write for Videomaker magazine, and to shoot videos for pay. For those reasons alone, the experience was worth it.

There's also something to be said for seeing the movie on the big screen. It really felt like a movie that day. The theater masked the sound issues, the projection made it look like it was shot on film, and the whole story played like a piece of theater. For that experience alone, I'm almost glad we made the movie. Almost.

WAYBACK MACHINE

So, if I could go back in time, what would I tell myself?

First, I would tell myself to stick to short projects. They were more fun, and would have played great. But if I insisted on making a feature, here is what I would tell myself:

Take out a loan and do it right.
Get A&O insurance.
Shoot on anything but a TRV-950a.
Make Blood Fugue. It was always a better script, and would have played great.
Hire stunt people, fight photographers, and professional choreographers.
Hire a crew. Doing it all yourself is a bad thing.
Hire (or troll the art schools) for post-production people for VFX work.
Hire (or hit up the art school again) for marketing work.
Let someone else do the first cut.
ADR the whole thing.
Get an assembly within six weeks to identify pick-up shots.

In other words, I would tell myself that, if I wanted to make a movie, to do it the way others had. Frankly, it would have made for a much better product.

CLOSING THE DOORS

Why write this? After all, the movie was finished five years ago, and had its big-screen premiere in 2007. Why bring it up at all?

Simple: Because this blog was the Pray for Daylight production blog for a very long time. It was a defacto Stone Soup Films diary, whether I realized it or not. Pray for Daylight is in Northern Misfit's DNA.

It's time to put that in the past. The group that once was Stone Soup Films will never make another movie. I won't pen another Cassie Banning script, nor shoot either Rick or Kristi as Saveau and Cassie again in my lifetime. That chapter is closed.

To all of my current and former friends who helped make the movie happen: Thank you. We didn't need to make a movie, but we did. For that, you'll always have my gratitude.

To Saveau, to Cassie, and to Garrett, I say good night, farewell, and thanks for letting me play in your world for a while. Now I turn it back to you.

Under New Management

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 17:58:00 +0000

Northern Misfit is seven years old, and it's in the middle of an identity crisis.

When I started this blog back in 2004, it was on a whim. I never had a real purpose for it. I just wanted a place to jot down my thoughts and puzzle over whatever struck my fancy at the time.

A funny thing happened on the way to nowhere, though: The site actually became about something. Several things, in fact:

The Making of Pray for Daylight
My Move Out of IT and Into Technical Writing
My Experiences in Corporate America
My Experiences in Minnesota
My MMO Comic
My Adventures at DAVE School

Since coming back from DAVE School, though, a couple of things happened: First off, there is Facebook. Facebook -- and now Twitter -- have become my "Cheese Sandwich" refuges. When I want to gripe, joke, or even share a funny video, I do it on my wall, or I tweet a thought. It's just easier to share those flash-in-the-pan emotions that way.

Secondly - and more importantly -- is the fact that I've changed. I no longer feel the need to share as much of myself as I once did. I've come to value my privacy more than in the past. That reason more than anything else has allowed this site to go fallow.

So, what's to become of Northern Misfit?

Simple: It's time to change. More to the point, it's time to give the place a purpose.

Before I do, though, there is some things I think need closure on this site. As such, I'm kicking off a series of articles to recap some of the most common themes I've covered here. After that, the site's new direction will be revealed.

Stay Tuned!

Artificial Living

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 17:19:00 +0000

Jan 2010

The sounds that come from the sixth floor cubicle maze remind me of a college library. A whispered conversation here. An exasperated sigh there. Nothing that can be mistaken for the spoken word escapes their padded walls. Only muted emotion makes it past.

I adjust the laptop case in my right hand as I pass the central monitoring room. A single operator sits surrounded by a bank of nine LCD displays and an equally impressive array of keyboards. A heavier man, he favors me with the glassy stare of someone who has been awake all night.

I nod. He doesn't respond. He just follows me with his eyes until I pass beyond his doorway.

I've never seen him before. Chances are I'll never see him again. That's just the way things are around this company.

I weave my way through the cubicle passages so that I can walk along the sixth floor windows. The view outside is something from a Sterling-esque Steampunk novel. Dirty snow blankets the empty top tier of the parking ramp, while the horizon is dotted with smokestacks belching steam. Cars caked with salt slip their way over slush-covered streets, trailing gray exhaust as they pass.

I'd just spent over an hour working my way over twenty-five miles of Minneapolis highway just like those roads to get to my workplace. I didn't need to see that again so soon.

I turn away and turn my gaze to the people who share the floor with me.

There is the woman in her cube, bedecked with pictures of herself in her Tae Kwon Do dobucks and black belt, and a few of her family. She's huddled as she often is with the other women in her cube row. One of the members of the clique -- a heavier woman whose mouth is etched into a bitter inverted "C" on her face -- catches my eye.

I nod and smile.

She glares in return.

I quickly pass them by.

Next up is the two techs in their small cubes that are so filled with equipment and pinned-up data that they look less like an office workspace and more like a crazed technological hermit's cave. Ironically, both men are well dressed.

They actually nod at me as I pass. No words are exchanged, though. We just acknowledge that the other is there.

I finally make my way to my row. I slip into my cube, hang up my jacket, slide my laptop computer out of its case, and pop it into its docking bay. A plug-in of my cell phone and iPod later, and I'm ready to face my co-workers.

It doesn't take long for them to get my attention. A few moments after I login a chat window pops up.

"Good morning," it reads. "Can you look at 1194767?"

"Sure," I type back. My co-worker is in St. Louis, and his workday is already an hour ahead of mine.

I navigate my way through the labrynthine maze of the corporate Intranet, and find the trouble ticket in question. Within minutes I have the issue resolved.

"Done," I type to my comrade.

"k" he responds.

Nothing happens for some time. I check my email, and answer a few that are addressed to me. I knock out a couple of minor to-do items on my list -- send an email here, close a trouble ticket there -- before another co-worker pings me.

"Can you unlock me on a server?" He's a member of the Linux team that I used to work with, based in Orlando, Florida. Though he's been my co-worker for almost a year and a half, I couldn't pick him out of a police lineup.

"Sure," I respond.

I login to the server in question and start working. After all, what else would I have to do? Might as well pass the time.

***

The eight hours go by in fits and starts. One moment I'm pinged by three or four people at once needing help. The next? I'm left alone with my thoughts.

Only once during the workday do I need to actually need to speak. A local cubicle farm mate taps me on my shoulder to drag my attention from my iPod headphones.

"What's up?" I ask. I try not to sound excited and fail. Human interaction? I'm all for that.

"Do you still schedule changes for the Linux team?" he asks.

"No," I reply.

"Oh," he says. He walks away without another word.

That is the highlight of my workday.

***

I pack up eight and a half hours after I arrive. Though I ate at my desk, and worked during that time, I try to give the company the amount of time they expect.

I dont' tell anyone that I'm leaving. I used to do that, as a courtesy. I was quickly told that it wasn't necessary. The tone of that message made it clear that others found it a nuisance.

I walk out the same way I came in. Most of those that I saw as I came in are gone. Only a couple of workaholic stragglers remain. They favor me with a disapproving gaze as I leave after only a little more than a normal work shift.

As always, I smile at the workaholics.

They look away.

***

It takes me almost fifteen minutes for me to drive the five miles to pick up SpousalGoddess from her workplace. This is a good day. I've seen it take twice that time. I count my blessings as she hops into the car, laptop bag in hand.

We leave her workplace and ease onto the highway onramp. The line of metro traffic looks like a giant has arranged his matchbox car collection end-to end. It barely moves, inching forward only when able.

SpousalGoddess pulls up the road maps on her smartphone. There is no accident slowing us down. It's just too many drivers on too little road.

SpousalGoddess and I pass the time by talking about our days. Hers is filled with management meetings, problems she's solved with website launches, and general triumphs. Mine consists of technical ticket work I would have found dull a decade ago.

As always, Spousal gets frustrated. "We have to get you out of there," Spousal says. "You're wasted in that job."

"I know," I reply.

She's right. The job doesn't play to my strengths, but to my weaknesses. I have to leave. But where, and how?

The car slips in a rut and nearly fishtails. I put my focus on the road. I need to get us home in one piece.

It takes us eighty minutes to get home.

***

I switch into my sweat pants and t-shirt the moment I get home. Sporty Girl is downstairs doing homework. SpousalGoddess rummages through the cupboards in the kitchen to make dinner.

I turn on the XBox360 and stand in front of the Kinect sensor. The login process moves by at a glacial pace, but eventually I'm ready to start my workout.

My digital "personal trainer" -- though male in appearance -- has the voice of a perky Canadian voice actress.

"Let's start this first set with some tap-side, tap-backs!" She's as enthusiastic as a person in a recording booth who doesn't actually have to do the workout would sound.

I don't mind. I look forward to my workouts all day.

I match my moves to the digital trainer on screen. As always, the Kinect only reads about three quarters of my exercises.

It doesn't matter. I'm working out. That's all that counts.

I finish the set with a whopping 76% accuracy.

"Great job," my digital trainer says, reading from her script. "Let's move on to the power jog."

I raise my hands and start to run.

SpousalGoddess starts pasta for dinner.

***

I finish my workout in thirty minutes. One hundred and fifty calories. Just over five thousand calories burned since starting on the software. Not too bad.

I shut down the XBox360 and step into the kitchen. My shirt is sweat-drenched and my heart hammers against my sternum. I feel alive. It feels good.

I grab a glass of Crystal Light iced tea and move into the home office. Time to start the evening ritual.

First is Facebook. I click "Home" and scan through my "friend feed". Friends and acquaintances from as far back as a quarter century ago offer up insights, humors and updates in equal measure. Where appropriate, I "like" a status here, or leave a comment there.

One catches my eye. A girl I'd known in England has just lost her grandfather. I offer my condolensces immediately. It's become an increasingly common activity these days to see friends lose loved ones. The offer of support has become a reflex now. Sadly, I know it's one I'll be using more and more throughout my life.

A message pops up from my latest 3D client. Can I make minor change to an architectural pre-visualization image I'd done for him?

By way of answer I make the changes, and email the new image with its associated invoice in under fifteen minutes.

I can't help by smile. I love that work.

My email chimes again. I have an interview request for more 3D work on oDesk. Would I be interested in performing some 3D modeling and animation work?

I open my oDesk account and look over the interview request email. It takes a few moments to parse the offshore English missive, but eventually I get the gist.

The work is worthwhile, so I offer my rate. The ball is their court now.

Since I'm on the site, I decide to scan for other freelance opportunities. Nothing noteworthy. I then switch to studio searches. Is anyone hiring for a full-time 3D generalist?

I spot three good matches. I gather my application packet (resume, cover letter, and demo reel link) and fire them off. I know I'll probably never hear back from them. I also know that, unless I try, I will never get a break.

Just like that, I'm done.

My day is finished. All of my work -- corporate, freelance, prospecting, and fitness -- is completed.

I look outside. It's barely seven thirty, and the sky is as black as death.

I close the shade and leave the office to see my wife.

***

"Do you remember when we, you know, were busy?" I ask SpousalGoddess.

"We're not busy now?" she responds, laughing.

"You know what I mean," I say. "Back when we used to have people over? Whatever happened to that?"

She sighs. It's an old conversation. For a moment I expect her to answer as she has before:

"Life happened," she's said when she's felt fatalistic.

When she's introspective she's said "We were ourselves. We stood up for ourselves and didn't go with the crowd. That was enough to lose friends here."

Other times, when she's had a little to drink, or if she's in a foul mood, she's just shrugged and said "Once we stopped making movies, we stopped feeding egos and weren't worth knowing."

Tonight is different. Rather than speak, she just sighs.

I look over at her. Tears well in her eyes.

"We aren't from here," she says with a shrug. "And I'm tired of that. I'm so very, very tired of that."

I walk over and fold her into a hug. I want to say that things will get better, that we'll be able to meet new people soon. I can't, though. I've been here too long to be able to say that and mean it.

"So am I," I say instead. "So am I."

SpousalGoddess straightens up and wipes her eyes. "I have to switch out laundry," she says.

Within moments she's grabbed the laundry basket and headed downstairs.

***

The next day I work from home. I'll be up at 5:45 AM to start my day at 7:00 AM.

Nothing will change in my work at all. I'll be every bit as efficient as I was after the two hour commute the day before. I will spend my days working with virtual co-workers, following up on virtual friends, and working out with an artificial personal trainer until it's time to go to bed.

This is the life that we lived in 2010.

This is how our lives have started in 2011.

This is not the life we intend to lead.

***

Late last year, a transplant couple we knew in the local area surprised their Facebook friends with an announcement:

"We're leaving," they said. "We just can't handle the winters."

We'd only met them a handful of times in the three years they'd been in the region, but they'd been pleasant every time. They, too, had experienced many of the same issues we had with the region, and had shared in our exasperation.

We'd not got to know them too well for a variety of reasons: Work, Spousal's MS attack, and conflicting schedules were the biggest culprits. We'd always felt bad that we hadn't been able to connect more with them while they were here. Nevertheless, we parted company on good terms.

After they had moved to their new city, the husband of the couple posted this status on his Facebook account:

"If you don't like your situation in life, change it. Only then will things get better."

Those words hit me like a blow to the chest.

I'd tried to do exactly that in 2008. That trip to DAVE School had always been intended to end with our moving from the region. That was always the end-game scenario.

The Great Recession, a dead housing market, and Spousal's diagnosis changed those plans. After all, we had medicine to pay for, a roof over our head, and jobs. What did we have to complain about? All we had to endure was soul-crushing solitude. We could handle that, right?

No longer.

We have too much to offer as professionals to be sequestered away in cubicles, communicating to co-workers only through chat windows and emails.

We have too much to offer as people to connect with others only through artificial means.

We have too much to offer as friends to be treated as the gathering spot of last resort.

We've lived like this for too long. Our reasons for allowing it to continue may have been good -- even admirable -- at first. No longer.

Life is too short to allow yourself to be lonely. Life is too short to settle for less, or to always play it safe.

Life demands risk. Life demands emotion. Life demands that you live it.

We intend to live our life.

All that is required to change our lives is that we take a first step.

That step has been taken.

Time to see where the next one takes us.

Am I The Only One?

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 20:33:00 +0000

Am I the Only One Who Feels Like We're Living in the Waning Days of the Western Roman Empire?

In Rome's heyday, the Empire produced great works. Its roads, its aquaducts, its military, and its sheer expanse was built on the back of Roman citizens, and the slaves they controlled.

Near the end of the Western Roman Empire's reign, though, Rome itself no longer produced much of anything. Its provinces actually made its goods. Even the defense of the Empire -- once a way for the common man to literally "earn his salt", and for wealthy families to train their sons for leadership -- was outsourced to provincial tribes. The Rome of old was dead; it its place was a population that was spoiled, entitled, and ripe for a severe ass-kicking.

Eventually, the Goths -- one of those tribes charged with defending the Empire -- asked for a little something as payment for for all of their dying in the name of the Glory of Rome: They wanted citizenship. The words "I am a citizen of Rome," meant something even then, and they wanted to utter them proudly. What with all of the dying and stuff, they figured they had earned that right.

The Romans disagreed. The Goths? Citiziens? Pshaw!

The Goths didn't take this news lightly. They marched on Rome, and parked an army at its gates. Once camped, they asked for citizenship again. Slowly. They even enunciated rea; clear-like, lest they be misunderstood.

"Nope!" said the Romans.

"Really?" the Goths asked. "Dudes, we have a fricking Army out here. Just give us citizenship and we'll be happy. If you don't, we'll show you what this army can do? Capiche?"

"We said 'No!'" the Romans replied, annoyed. These pesky Goths were interrupting them from learning the latest juicy gossip about the powerful families of Rome. Now that was worth their attention!

The Goths threw up their hands. "Okay," they said. "We warned you."

The Goths then delivered an ass-kicking so brutal that the world still talks about it over sixteen hundred years later.

If this scenario doesn't sound even a little bit familiar to you, don't worry. You're not alone.

By the way, can you answer the door? I understand there are some people knocking who want something from us...

Am I the Only One Who Thinks That Instant Communication Technology is Actually Making Us More Distant?

I love the Internet. When my best friend MadMartian introduced it to me back in June 1990, I was utterly amazed. Here was a place where I could send a message through something called "email" to someone in Australia, and see it delivered in fifteen seconds. I could discuss politics, science, history, heck any subject I wanted on the many USENET forums to my heart's content. It was -- and is -- utterly amazing.

Unfortunately, in the twenty-one years I've been online, I've seen a real change in the average person's communication methods. Many people consider technological communication methods more important than something as wacky as, oh, talking to the person right in front of them.

Ask yourself this: How often have you been talking to a friend or family member in the past two years, only to see the other person pick up their cell phone to answer a text? Worse, how often have you ignored the person you were right across from to send or receive a text yourself?

That's what I thought.

Somewhere along the line, the communication enhancements provided by SMS communication, email, and Instant Messaging stopped being a luxury, and started being a necessity. The average person can't imagine not being connected to family and friends at all times via their smart phone. After all, how would they know where everyone was if they didn't?

Rather than make people closer, the technology has resulted in a dramatic cooling in interpersonal relationships. People don't take the time to look each other in the eye. Instead, they see individuals as avatars, or as images on social networking sites. Who has the time to get to know someone? After all, there are dozens of statements out there that I have to "like" right away.

Worse, discourse has suffered. No one bothers to make cogent arguments any longer. How can they? The attention span of the average person has plummetted. Real insight has given away to pithy comments that are no longer than one hundred and forty characters in length. (That no one has connected the fact that it takes approximately eight to nine seconds to read a sentence that length -- and that this is also the exact length of the average media "sound bite" -- is both sad and disturbing.)

The result is a world that is utterly Kafkaesque: People are drowning in communications technologies, yet are somehow saying even less to each other than ever.

Am I the Only One Who Thinks the Internet is Our Library of Alexandria?

Carl Sagan's Cosmos amazed me when I was a kid. Here was a brilliant man who was taking the time to share his love of the natural world with anyone and everyone. Sure, his diction may have been a bit unusual, and yeah, his "Spaceship of the Imagination" was corny, but the facts he taught have stuck with me all my life.

The story that sticks with me the most from his series wasn't about space travel, or aliens. Not the one that haunts me to this day was the loss of the Library of Alexandria.

Alexandria boasted the world's first true library. Not only did the Ptolemeic Dynasty ensure that its knowledge was gathered there, it brought in works from beyond Egypt's own borders. Knowledge was what mattered, not its point of origin. The information contained within its walls purportedly went back to the dawn of civilization.

Then, in 48BC, Julius Caesar accidentally burned it down.

Centuries of knowledge evaporated in smoke. The world lost part of its soul, all because of clumsy fire ships. How far back, Sagan wondered, did this event set the human race?

As a child, I contended myself by thinking it could never happen to our world. After all, libraries were everywhere now. Sure, some might have a book or two that others lacked, but the core knowledge that built our civilization -- engineering, mathematics, biology, chemistry, and literature -- was well-preserved. We'd never have to worry about a clumsy brute and a bit of tinder.

That was, until the Internet really moved into our world.

Consider this: Where do you go if you need to find a fact? The local library, or Google?

Where do you read your news? In a print newspaper, or online?

Where is most of your correspondence with family and friends kept? In drawers in your home, or on your email and social networking account?

Where are most of the pictures you've taken in the past five years stored? In an album, or on a rotating wallpaper on your desktop's screen?

Of course, it's easy to remind ourselves that professionals always make backups. Unless, you know, they forget to, or if the backups are corrupt. And it's good to remember that magnetic media has a really lousy long-term lifespan for data, and that optical media is better. As long as, you know, you can read the format that the data is contained within.

So now I worry. What happens if we get hit with an electromagnetic pulse? What happens if a malicious group manages to hack key systems? Who, then, will protect our data?

Meanwhile, Scientologists are protecting L. Ron Hubbard's writings on stainless steel writings and encasing them in titanium capsules.

Is this really the picture of our society that we want to leave for future generations to discover?

Ah, well. I've rambled on too long. I have to get back to my job (where I work with individuals around the country), work on 3D client work (for people out of the country) and then catch up with people on Facebook. And hey! Did you see that video on YouTube where that skateboarder crushed his nads on a handrail? It was awesome.

Five Things -- 2010 List

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Thu, 16 Dec 2010 15:20:00 +0000

Name Five Good Things That Happened to You in 2010:

I was paid for 3D modeling and animation work
I got a surprisingly good review at my corporate job
I saw my son graduate high school
I sent my son to his first semester of college
I saw my parents again

2. Name Five Bad Things That Happened to You in 2010:

Saw too many of my friends and associates become seriously ill, or die
Was cut out of the local filmmaking community
Got moved from a role I liked to a role I have no interest in due to my sleep issues at work
Seriously injured my back
Had Pertusis / Bronchial Asthma for two solid months

3. Name Five People Who Have Touched You in a Special Way in 2010:

SpousalGoddess: Many people facing her challenges would be depressed, worried, or unable to function. Instead, she just punches through life like a fighter. I am in awe of this woman.
My kids: They amazed me yet again this year. I feel truly blessed.
LewsTherin and his family: Reconnecting was wonderful
My Parents: Even with my mom's continuing health issues, she's always available to talk
dl8rms: Got me another job offer that I sadly had to reject. That effort is something I won't forget

4. Name Five Things You Achieved in 2010:

Created my first super-large 3D render for a paying client
Learned more Blender 2.5x
Got more writing published
Wrote a pencil-and-paper dynamic RPG campaign generator that actually works
Learned to slow down

5. What Were The Results Of The Five Things You Wanted to Achieve in 2010?

Get off of on-call work:

Did it in January. Will never, ever do on-call work again.

Land more and better paying 3D gigs:

Did less of this than I'd hoped, mostly because of my corporate job.

Won't make that mistake again.

Fortunately, since LightWave is becoming a hotter commodity again, I've been getting more options every single day.

Help my son move to college:
Did it, and am happy with how it went. It's been a great experience for all involved.

Finish the "Boreas" trailer:

Three things killed this project:

Key personnel showed a real lack of interest in working on a SF-related project.
Key performers weren't able to be available even for the minimal time required for a trailer shoot, due to family issues.
The initial target market for this project -- CONVergence -- finally became something not work pursuing.

I did add some of the shots I'd made to my 2010 demo reel, but many of those would have to be rebuilt.

Get my family together for a final NerdPod Big Trip Somewhere:

Emergency trips to Virginia and Grand Forks -- to say nothing of major car repairs -- ended up stopping this effort. I'm hoping to make it happen in 2011.

6. Name Five Things You'd Like to Achieve in 2011:

Achieve my PMP:

I'm not crazy about being a Project Manager, but I'm good at it. Getting a PMP would only make me more marketable.

Leave the IT Field:

If there is anything my corporate gig has done for me, it's that it has allowed me to forgive myself for leaving The Job I Never Should Have Left in 2004. Turns out I actually had to leave that job after all.
Additionally, Corporate IT is no longer an environment where nerds like me thrive. You really can't go home again.

Grow my 3D Business:

I'm back to making money in 3D. More to the point, it makes me happy to work my butt off in that field.

Time to embrace who I really am and make things work that way.

Come up with a post-work medication plan for SpousalGoddess:

We're fortunate that SpousalGoddess can work full-time. Her medical benefits are covering her MS meds. Though she's doing great today, we really need a plan to get those meds that won't bankrupt us, should she not be able to work in the coming years.

We're attending the MS convention in January, 2011, and talking to the MS Society going forward. The roadmap will be drawn. Time to make that happen.

7. What was your new year's resolution for 2010, and how did it turn out?

"Health for my wife"

I am so happy with the way her MS meds are handling her disease I can't even believe it.

I am worried, though, that she stresses herself too hard at work. Telling her "ENOUGH" at the end of her workday is once again becoming a full-time job.

"A good college for my son"

The Dude ended up going to our Alma Mater. Sadly, though, the program he entered -- Computer Game Design -- is so new as to be non-existant. He will likely transfer next year.

"A more stable, more balanced work-life balance"

I got that in January of 2010. The cost was incredible animosity from some of the Hairshirt Workaholic engineers with whom I'd worked.

I'm no longer with that team. Good riddance.

8. What is your new year's resolution/what would you like from 2011?

Really, not much of a difference this year, either:

Health for my wife
A more appropriate college for my son
More and better-paying 3D and animation work
A better idea of how we can achieve our long-term goals
A silly one: Level 85 for my "Main Toon" on World of Warcraft. I've played this character alongside SpousalGoddess' druid since 2006. I'd love to see it finally hit its level cap.

2010: A Year in Review

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 18:42:00 +0000

NOTE: This marks the Seventh time that I've answered these questions at the end of the year.

1. What did you do in 2010 that you'd never done before?

Created a 2.4m x 2.0m 300 DPI render for a client. Fun technical and creative challenge
Stood up to a bullying co-worker who kept insisting that my sleep issues were "all in my head"
Sold some models on Turbosquid.com
Learned a part, rehearsed, and performed in a show in under three weeks

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions?

Nope.

3. Will you make more for next year?

Nope.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Not very close, but close enough to be upsetting.

Tim Gage, my co-star in "Pirates of the Great Lakes", succumbed to skin cancer at the age of 30 in March of 2010. He was far too talented, and far, far too young to die. His visitation was very hard to take.
My wife's Godmother Kathy McGrath succumbed to cancer in August. Kathy had always been full of life, quick to laugh, and caring. Cancer took that all away from her. I'm just happy I knew her.

5. What countries did you visit?

None. Again. This is getting ridiculous.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

A full-time 3D or VFX-related job
An understanding of how we'll pay for Spousal's meds, should she lose her corporate job
A regular gaming group
A real idea of where we'll live next

7. What date(s) from 2010 will remain etched your memory, and why?

January 2010:

I informed my boss at my big Corporate Gig that I could no longer work after-hours, and that I was seeking accomodation under the Americans with Disabilites Act.

I fully expected to be fired. I was surprised to have the company move me into a role that was better for my skillset.

Not so surprising, however, was their intention to have me do three jobs for the price of one:

1. Project Coordinator2. Technical Writer3. Daytime Linux Support

Even less shocking was the instant animosity I incurred from a co-worker I've since referred to in this blog as "Sandy Vagina". He had no understanding of my sleep issues, nor did he care. After all, he worked sixty-plus hours per week; why couldn't I?

March 2010:

My co-star from "Pirates of the Great Lakes" passes away at age 30 from cancer
The NerdPod discovers the new Fantasy Flight Game Center in Roseville. We're initially excited by the place, but soon stop showing up. The drive is just too much of a pain in the butt
I'm completely cut out from the filmmaking panels at CONVergence 2010. I ask for an explanation, and learn that it's a "specific group" (i.e., the same local filmmakers I've run afoul of since 2002) who are doing this. When I reach out to them, I'm ignored. I decide that my time trying to make nice with the CONVergence crowd is done.

April 2010:

My son is accepted into the University of North Dakota.

April 2010:

Spousal celebrates her one year anniversary of her diagnosis with MS by noting how great she feels.

May 2010:

Spousal raises over $2,000.00 for the National MS Walk. The NerdPod does the entire 6.5 miles itself
Spousal's one year MRI shows that her lesions have faded. She's responding very well to her medication, and her neurologist is very pleased with her results
I pick up an F4U Corsair RC Airplane for the summer. I initally fly it quite a bit, and am very pleased with the plane. Sadly, I end up being too busy to fly it very often as the summer progresses
The NerdPod reconnects with LewsTherin's family for the first time in a decade. It's wonderful.

June 2010:

My son graduates from High School. He isn't an honor grad, but he's survived. I'm proud of him
LewsTherin's family comes down to visit us for a weekend. It's a blast.
Sold off a huge number of DVDs and games that we no longer watch or play

July 2010:

The NerdPod does not go to CONVergence. It feels great to spend the Fourth of July outside, in the sun again
I receive my Corporate Yearly Review. Much to my shock, I'm rated in the top 20% of the company. I even get a bonus. Meanwhile, co-workers whom I know are busting their rear-ends are getting rated poorly. This makes no sense. Sadly, it's also par for the course with this company
Some of my 3D Models on Turbosquid sell. I find this out when I receive a check in the mail
I write another article for "Videomaker" magazine.

August 2010:

Sandy Vagina's attitude with my no-after-hours work schedule comes to a head during a team call. I have to stand up and make it clear that he's harassing me for a medical issue that I can't control. I escalate the issue to my boss, as I'm ready to file a formal complaint. Nothing is done.
Ticked off by my run-in with Sandy V., I work in the yard to cool down. I end up injuring my spine. This results in three weeks of re-hab, and months of recovery
I'm informed by my boss that I'm being moved from my Project Coordinator role to, essentially, a Help Desk position. I am not pleased
My former DAVE School roomie GeminiTwin lands a full-time job with StereoD in LA. He dashes cross-country, and starts working on 2D-to-3D conversion for major motion pictures
GeminiTwin tries to get me into the studio. Sadly, they don't bite
My son fails his driver's test because he didn't know where the defrost was on my car. Upset at this, I take him to a local flying club and buy him an exploration flight in a Piper Warrior with an instructor. He ends up taking off and flying 90% of the flight. I'm extraordinarily proud of him
I spend the next two months looking into flying again. I end up dropping the effort. It would be extremely expensive to get the medical waivers for my sleep issues, and even more expensive to fly again. Time to let it pass
We attend "W00tStock". It's amazing. The most genuine, non-politicized Nerd Fun we've had in years
Spousal and I let our son overnight babysit our teenaged daughter so we can go out of town to see LewsTherin and his wife for a weekend. It's a lovely trip, and marks a real change in our freedom since first having kids
We drop off our son at college. For the first time since Sporty Girl was born, the NerdPod consists of only three people. Much to my surprise, my sadness is overcome by the sense of pride I have in my son, and at the excitement of what lies ahead.

September 2010:

I am transferred out of the Linux team in my Corporate Job, and into the Help Desk role. Despite being assured of the contrary by my now-former boss, my new management is completely unaware of my Sleep Disorders, and has to be brought up to speed
After reviewing my new duties, I inform my new manager that I have zero interest in the role. Much to my surprise, they don't fire me, but instead look forward at how they intend to leverage my skills
After reaching out to my friend dfl8rms, I am offered a contract job as a UNIX admin with another company. After visiting my doctor about fatigue issues, I'm informed in no uncertain terms that I cannot with my condition accept any job that requires on-call or after-hours responsibilities. I'm forced to decline
I remove "UNIX Administration" from any of my job searches. It is no longer a job I can realistically perform. It's time to put it behind me
A new local tavern that we nickname "The Bronze" becomes our new escape spot
Spousal bought her first new car in over twelve years: A TARDIS-blue 2011 Ford Fiesta.

October 2010:

My mother goes in for emergency back surgery. I fly out to see her. I end up meeting with two of my three sisters. It's the first time I see one of my sisters since 1983.
I turn 44. Spousal and I hit the Bronze, then re-connect with another co-star from "Pirates". We end up going out for drinks and karaoke. It makes for a lovely birthday
I get a copy of "Fallout: New Vegas" for my birthday gift
I start to come down with cough, and deep, deep fatigue. I initally think it's just a flu. It turns out to be pertusis, which then turns into bronchial asthma. It takes me until December to recover.

November 2010:

I start being approached for 3D contract work. Better, it's specifically because of my background with LightWave
Bought a "Kinect" for our XBox360. Started working out for 30 minutes per day, seven days per week. Feels great
Surprise layoffs hit my corporate gig. My favorite: A co-worker who the week before had been flown out to St. Louis as a runner-up for "Employee of the Year". She doesn't win, but gets a lovely parting gift. Then, on the following Tuesday, she and the winner get another surprise: lay-off notices
We learn that the company is off-shoring vast swaths of our IT work. Our jobs are now temporary at best
I turn down several 3D gigs, due to the time committment involved, but finally accept one. Work begins on Thanksgiving week
Spousal and I return to "World of Warcraft". After so long a break, the game is once again fun.

December 2010:

I learn that my closest friend since childhood has been diagnosed with a serious disease. He's doing fine, but it's yet another wake-up call
Spousal's cousin, who is near her age, is rushed in for triple-bypass surgery
Wall-mounted my LCD computer monitors monitors to free up even more desk space
I restart my 3D business in earnest
I identify a PMP course to take
Spousal decides its time to take on some freelance writing gigs as well. We combine our efforts into one company for the freelance sites.

8. What were your biggest achievements of the year?

Taking care of my family
Standing up for myself in a hostile work environment
Remaing relevant with my 3D CG skills
Staying in contact with all of my DAVE School buddies
Modeled a Helicopter in LightWave, and surfaced it in MudBox
Being sought after as a LightWave artist

9. What were your biggest failures?

Abandoning the "Boreas" trailer, due to personnel issues
Did not focus on learning Maya
Did not push myself with MudBox
Did not create environments for my reel
Passed on a chance to create 3D environments for a project associated with William Shatner, due to my corporate gig
Did not write fiction of any kind

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Injured my back badly in August. Still in recovery, but able to work out.
Pertusis / Bronchial Asthma for two months

11. What was the best thing you bought?

SpousalGoddess' medicine
Kinect
YourShape Fitness Evolved
XBox Live Membership
Netflix membership
World of Warcraft: Cataclysm

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

SpousalGoddess: She doesn't let MS slow her down. She just amazes me every day
Our son: He's embraced college life, and is anxious toget his degree
Our daughter: She's turning into a caring, powerful young woman. I couldn't be more proud
My neighbors: They define the phrase "Good Neighbors". They are always, always there when we need them, and never ask for anything in return. They're amazing.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

The American Voting Public:

So, we have a recession, largely brought on by eight years of out-of-control spending, and exacerbated by a bail-out of the same criminals that down our business world. Do you go after the businesses that are profiting off of your misery? Do you ask hard questions of your elected officials as to why we can't bring these people to justice? Do you question how we ended up in this mess in the first place?

Nope. You just buy into the same soundbite logic that got us into this mess, and vote for the programs and representitives who support the same idiots who profited from this quagmire. Worse, you call it a victory.

President Obama:

To quote one of the best movies of the past century, "Show a little backbone, will ya?"

The Democratic Party:

You had a golden opportunity to really make changes that aligned with your professed ideals.

Did you grab it?

Nope.

You pissed away an opportunity to finally "Walk the Walk" by instead politicking.

Thanks for nothing.

The Republican Party:

After the childish hissy fit that I saw the Republicans pull after the 1992 election of Bill Clinton, I privately characterized the party as a bunch of rich kids who only liked to play ball if they got to make up the rules.

Now? Now I characterize them as a bunch of rich kids who only like to play ball if they not only get to make the rules, but also own the ball, the field, and the other team.

A Dear Friend's Spouse:

We only got to see one of our dearest friends three times over the entirety of 2010. We always knew his wife had some issues with us -- it was obvious -- but if finally ballooned to the point where he could no longer see us.

That alone would be depressing, but nothing to be concerned about.

Sadly, there is more. Some of it has to do with why the Boreas trailer was abandoned. Some of it is more personal. Much, much more. None of it, however, belongs on this site.

We've said our piece to our friend. We just hope things either improve for him soon, or that he decides to take action to make his situation better.

14. Where did most of your money go?

College Tuition
Train tickets
No-notice emergency travel
Major Car Repairs
Medical expenses

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Spousal doing so well
Working in 3D
Matt Smith as The Doctor in "Doctor Who"
The end of "Supernatural" Season 5
Hiking
Biking
Seeing LewsTherin and his family

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2010?

Two songs:

"Carry on Wayward Son" -- Kansas
"Back in Black" -- AC/DC

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder?

Happier. I'm more content with who I really am than I have been in years.

ii. thinner or fatter?

Fatter. Though I'm working out again regularly, the months of recovery from my back issues followed by steroids to get through my asthma did my weight no favors.

iii. richer or poorer?

Financially richer, spiritually poorer.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Exercised.Animated3D ModeledWritten.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Worried about my corporate job.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

At home hanging out with the kids.

22. Did you fall in love in 2010?

As always, with SpousalGoddess.

23. How many one-night stands?

None.

24. What was your favorite TV program?

"Supernatural": Somehow, the new season has managed to be fantastic. That's a neat trick after the story was finished in Season Five.

"Doctor Who": It took me a bit to adjust to both Smith as The Doctor, and Moffat's re-tooling of the show. Now, though, I love it.

24b. Shows that let you down?

THE BIG BANG THEORY:

I hate to say it -- I really do -- but the show is sliding right into classic Sitcom Failure territory. Characters -- Sheldon, in particular -- have been boiled down to their most popular "crowd-pleasing" elements. The stories are getting "wackier", and have less to do with the premise.

Lastly, since Leonard and Penny's break-up (which, as I understand it, coincided with the actors themselves breaking up), the romantic spark at the heart of the series is missing.

Time to put it out to pasture while it's still got some goodwill in it.

SMALLVILLE:

This show gets ten years, but "Firefly" got thirteen episodes. Justice, there is none.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I just don't have the time and energy to hate any longer. It's best just to forget.

26. What was the best book you read?

"The Mall of Cthulhu"

27. What was/were your greatest musical discoveries?

I finally get AC/DC. Better late than never.

28. What did you want and get?

A steady paycheck
Time to unwind

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

"Red"

This was the film "The Expendibles" should have been.

And hey! Helen Mirren. Growr!

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I went out for karaoke and drinks. I'm forty-four.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Getting a technically creative job.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?

Business casual.

34. What kept you sane?

My kids
My wife
My parents
Building and animating stuff in LightWave
My friends, both near and far

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Helen Mirren: My god, how can that woman still be so drop-dead sexy?
Carrie Keagan: She capture my, um, heart when I saw her dressed as "Power Girl" on "Attack of the Show". Yow. Za!

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

The constant slide into entrenched extremism in our political discourse. How can we expect to actually get anything done if neither side is willing to compromise?

37. Who did you miss?

Saveau
MagicMarmot
Penmaster and Raven
GeminiTwin
RedFro
Scully

38. Who was the best new person you met?

Who has time to meet people?

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010:

Be true to yourself. If you try to live your life as someone you're not, you'll be miserable.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

"It's the End of the World As We Know it
And I Feel Fine"

A Return to Relevance

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 21:02:00 +0000

As recently as six weeks ago, I nearly shut down this blog.

Let's face it; I haven't had a lot to say lately. Between work, and adjusting to life with a house down one child, introspection hasn't been high on the old priority list.

It should have been, though. Worse, I knew it should have been. I just didn't want to admit it.

All it took to shake me awake, though, was yet another change of fortune.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

For most of the past year my job hasn't been that bad. Ever since letting management know that I couldn't do the after-hours work, I'd been relegated to Project Coordination for the Linux team. This meant I managed work for a team of three Linux admins. It wasn't technical at all, and instead leveraged those things I do well:

Communicate
Coordinate
Collaborate

I liked what I did, and even got rated in the top twenty percent of my company when it came to review time.

Of course, it couldn't go smoothly. One of the Linux engineers vehemently resented the fact that I didn't work after hours. Since he was one of the two engineers who habitually worked sixty-hours-per-week plus (because, in his words, "I owe everything to my company,") his word carried weight. Sure, I was doing a really great job, but it didn't matter. Workaholic Engineer had sand in his vagina, and we'd all endure hell until he got his cleansing douche.

So, after nearly nine months of having a fairly decent job, I was unceremoniously dumped into another team. My new job?

Tech support.

Yes, I complained. Yes, I had to fight against the whole after-hours thing again. Yes, I made it clear that I had zero intention of staying where I was. A lot of noises were made, telling me how it would work out, that I was a great resource, and...

Yeah, you get the idea. I was being glad-handed and I knew it.

Then finally, only two weeks before this entry was written, I came into the office to learn of massive layoffs. Outsourcing. India. The same old story. I survived this cut. Barely. Next time I will not be so lucky.

I now face an uncertain future again. My goal of staying with this job for the next few years? Gone. My hopes of sticking with the same career until I retire? Dashed.

Thank god.

CHAFED PEG

When I took this job back in IT, my goals were noble. Spousal was newly-diagnosed with MS, and I was willing to do whatever I needed to in order to make ends meet. Who cared if I loathed IT when I left it in 2005? What mattered was her health.

The problem with that logic, of course, is that it's short-sighted. Good intentions aside, I can't be what I'm not. Asking myself to rewire my personality to like facing an IT career until the end of my days was about as realistic as asking myself to be a pro basketball player. Sure, I could work my ass off and drive myself into the hospital, but the best I could hope to be was really, really bad at my job.

Even before the change of position (excuse me; that's "Re-org" in current Corporate-Speak) and the first round of layoffs, SpousalGoddess had made it clear that I needed to re-think my strategy. "You're angry, bitter, and unhappy," she told me on a rainy Sunday morning in September. "Do you really think I want to live with that?"

If Spousal's words weren't enough, my body was once again pulling its trick of converting stress into ailment. Ignoring the slew of colds -- the likes of which I hadn't seen since 2005 -- and the body aches, I even injured myself. Badly.

The genesis of the injury was simple: I'd busted my butt planning a project for my teammates. I'd written the plan, scheduled the work, coordinated the walk-through, and even sent reminders to my teammates in the form of Outlook Calendar entries. Imagine my surprise, then when the team utterly missed their windows.

"What happened?" I'd asked Mr. Sandy Vagina. I'd spent almost two man days planning the work, and was stumped as to how they'd missed actually performing it.

"Dude," he grumbled, "You know it's a lot easier to plan this stuff and pass it off than to do it, right?"

I'd looked at my phone, incredulous. "Actually, no, it isn't." I finally said. "It took hours to get all of the paperwork done, to coordinate the validation resources, to represent the changes, and, hell, to even write up the step-by-step plan for you. The actual work? Takes twenty minutes."

"Then why don't you do it?" he snapped, petulant.

"Because," I said, "I can't. Medical condition. Remember?"

"Shya," he grumbled.

This hadn't been the first time Sandy Vagina had pulled this crap. Ever since being pulled off of on-call, I'd been a liability in his eyes. It didn't matter than I'd done three jobs for the team; all that mattered to him is that I wasn't working after-hours. Normally I just blew it off, but today? It got to me.

I was in a black mood by the time I got home. Rather than stew, I decided to work in the yard. I needed to move some bigger rocks to better places along the front. I bent down, lifted with my knees...

...and my lower right-hand back just went twang!

I nearly fell over. I managed to work my way to the mini-van, where I leaned against it. The pain was breath-taking. By the time The Dude and his girlfriend drove up, I was wondering how I'd get up the stairs.

It ook six weeks, plenty of meds, and three trips to a physical therapist before I was able to move comfortably again. Even now, it twinges when it gets a little moist outside. I hurt my back, badly, all because some little punk didn't want to respect what I could do for his team.

Later, I thought I'd try to clear the air with Sandy. I got him on the phone and explained that, though I couldn't do the after-hours work, I knew I was providing a lot for them.

"Yeah, whatever," he replied, utterly unimpressed.

When I had my one-on-one with my boss, I explained my frustrations. He listened, and finally offered up this bit of wisdom:

"Can you work any after hours schedules? Because that would help?"

This. Again.

"You mean, on top of my doing everything else?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied. "It would mean a lot to the team."

"The team that currently just gets a list of changes with fully-written change plans from me on Mondays?" I tried not to sound pissed, and failed. "The team that only has to follow the steps on those plans? That's not enough for them?"

"Well, they are a man down for after-hours support," he replied.

I just sighed. Enough. This was not working out.

FX WIZARD

In the meantime, my old roomie GeminiTwin finally landed a job in the VFX field. With next to no money in his pocket, he hauled his cookies out to LA to start with his new company. The hours were long -- thirteen hours per day, six days per week -- and the normal non-overtime pay wasn't that great, but he didn't mind. He was happy.

"You have to get out here!" he told me. After my back's injury, and the obvious lack of respect for what I did for the team, I knew I had to find options. With the hope that having an "in" with the company would help, I applied for the job in California.

I didn't do this lightly. Spousal and I were so convinced it would happen that we started making soft plans for how I'd get out there.

It didn't, of course. Their hiring flurry ended. I was left here.

GeminiTwin and I keep in contact regularly. He's still trying to get me out there. So far, it hasn't worked out.

At the same time, Scully in New Mexico kept throwing me leads. Her job had finally become both steady and paying, and she was hoping to get me out there. "You can't work from there," she told me. "You need to leave Minnesota if you want to be taken seriously!"

Truer words were never spoken.

ATROPHY

I also faced the hard reality that, should I ever want to make a movie again, it would be starting from the ground up. The entity that had been Stone Soup Films was long dead.

It didn't help that I no longer saw the people who made Stone Soup a reality in the first place. Some -- like Fluffy and Klem -- had fallen off of the face of the planet back in 2005. (A brief email exchange with Fluffy in 2009 ended abruptly when I informed her of Spousal's diagnosis. No surprise there.) Others, like Saveau's former roomie, had proven to be a genuinely mean-spirited and harmful person to know.

What I hadn't counted on was no longer seeing Saveau. His wife had an issue with Spousal and I, apparently, which meant he could only come over to see us when she was otherwise occupied. The result: As of the end of November, 2010, we had seen him face-to-face only three times in the entire year.

Artemis stopped coming over back in 2009. There had been an exchange of emails between she and Spousal about the upcoming vote on the Health Care Bill, and that had caused some sparks to fly. I didn't think much of it at the time. Once again, I was wrong.

MagicMarmot had, of course, been working on Transylvania Television, and had been settling into a new job. Without a project to work on, his visits to our abode became less and less frequent. We haven't seen him in a couple of months.

MLRF moved to Chicago in May. She's been busy with theater and extra work in the Windy City, and seems happier. The biggest change in her life was that, to the surprise of no one, she finally broke it off with her long-time boyfriend. She's currently living her dream of being an actress.

In the past, I would have lamented this falling-out-of-touch, and complained of the lonliness I felt. Now? I consider it par for the course for life over forty.

BRIGHT SIDE

Things aren't all bad, of course. Spousal's medicine is doing a wonderful job keeping her healthy. Her lesions have faded, and she's been in a good, long remission. The Dude is learning programming at school. It's not what he wants to learn, mind you, but it's better than a kick in the teeth.

We also get out now more than we have in years. We have a new favorite bar only five minutes from our front door. Between dancing, comedy shows, costume parties, and much-needed I-need-a-drink nights, it's been a blast.

We're also not entirely lonely. We see Garrett now and again. Our college friends see us every quarter, either coming out to us, or our going to their home. We also hang out with a couple of people from the show I performed in prior to heading down to DAVE School in '08. Add in just being more social in public, and it's actually quite nice.

Strangely, this sort of limited socialization works out just fine. Though I do miss seeing big groups of people on occasion, it doesn't last. All I have to do is remind myself of the drama of the past decade. Once I remember the yelling, the questioning, and the utterly baffling behavior we observed, the quiet suddenly feels very nice indeed.

POLESTAR

In the meantime I have to navigate the rough waters ahead. Fortunately, I have a plan:

Get my PMP certificate
Grow my client list

Both steps are already under way. Heck, now that I'm getting more pings on my reel -- to say nothing of landing clients, and the resurgence of LightWave as an industry tool -- I'm actually feeling better about things than I did in '09.

Aside from that? I'll live. I'll do what I need to do to watch out for my son, my daughter, and my wife.

Everything else? That's negotiable.

That's where this blog comes in again. Clunky or not, it helps me think. With the challenges ahead, I think I'll need that.

Time to tighten the mainsail.

Minus One

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 14:24:00 +0000

My son is away at college and I feel fine.

I dreaded him going. His entire Senior year was a long series of knotted stomachs and coughed-back tears. This? This would be his Last Fall at Home as a Public School Student. That? That was his Last Musical in High School. Add in his Last Dance at School, his Final School Projects, and the Last Month at home, and I worked myself into an emotional pudding.

Then the day came, and I didn't shed a tear.

Moving him in to his dorm was no different than settling into a hotel room. The parade of family-related activities came and went in a flash. Then that first day ended and the NerdPod Minus One headed back to my wife's parent's home. The Dude settled in for his first night in his new home.

That was how it should be.

The only time I got choked-up was on the Saturday before we left. It was a big family and student's picnic and "carnival" (one bouncy castle thing constituted a carnival, apparently), and the NerdPod sat together and ate dry burgers while we watched kids mingle.

It was awkward.

One one side you had the parents, either anxious to be on their way, or frightened to leave their Special Snowflake behind. On the other you had the kids desperate to start having their own experiences.

These two things were never meant to mix in a "party" atmosphere.

I was amused at first, but then I saw The Dude. He was uncomfortable. He was pulling like a greyhound at the gates, while we were there blocking his way. Then he looked down at me.

"Dad," he said, "I think I want to mingle here." It wasn't a question. It wasn't a request. He wanted to do his own thing. The rest of his family? They weren't invited.

So I did the only thing a parent can do in a situation like that. I stood up, gave him a quick hug, gathered my family, and we left.

Walking away from him was hard. I felt my guts twist like they had on the day I'd left for Florida. This was worse, though. Unlike that day, I knew that I'd never again have him at home in the way that I left him. This was the end of our journey together and the beginning of his own.

I looked back more than a few times as I moved away. I spotted him there, amidst kids laughing at the ludicrous nature of the event, and parents either checking their watches or wiping away tears. He looked confident and quiet in a way I had never felt at eighteen.

That made me smile.

The following morning's brunch and drop-off was no worse than leaving our son at camp. I told him I loved him, told him to be safe, and then we drove away. There were no tears. No sighs. Just a lot of smiling and a sense that this moment was right.

In the weeks since his departure, SpousalGoddess and I have re-connected in a way we haven't since, well, there were only three of us in the house. We found a nice restaurant and bar a hop, skip, and a jump from our front door with live music and good food, and have taken to going dancing there every Friday. We talk more, read more, and relax more.

All in all, not too bad.

Even better, our son texts constantly. So, though he's hours away, we're connected on a fundamental level. It's fantastic.

To all of those parents out there who are dreading their kids taking off, let me just assure you that things will be okay. Your kids will still be your kids. You just have to let them discover life on their own. That, after all, is part of being a parent.

I miss my boy, of course, but I couldn't be more proud of where he is today. In the end, that's all that matters.

Never A Borrower Or A Lender Be...

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 17:29:00 +0000

My son moves out to college this week. On Thursday we load up the car, head north, and drop him off at his dorm room. When we drive back home, our car load will be reduced from four to three.

I dread that moment. Our son has defined our married lives for almost nineteen years. From the first Tae Kwon Do tournament that SpousalGoddess had to skip because she learned that -- surprise! -- she was pregnant, to these scant handful of vacation days spent to move him to his dorm room, he has been the center of our lives.

Now he's moving on.

I'm proud of my boy. He's his own person in a way I could only have dreamed of when he was an infant. He's smart, kind, caring, and tough in equal measure. More to the point, he's a good person. That, in the end, is what counts the most.

As I watch my son pack his bags, I remember all of the things I'd meant to do with him before he got too old. Biking and hiking trips to widen his horizons. Camping trips under the stars so I could show him our spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. Touring Europe, to acquaint him with the origin of his family name. As these thoughts gather in my mind my son becomes a child again. Gone is the tall, thin man with a quick smile and a calm voice. In his place is a young boy with huge round glasses and a mop of blonde hair. I see the sparkle in his eyes as a new idea takes root, the near-perfect "O" of his mouth as he sees something wonderful for the first time, and the bright rose in his cheeks as he falls asleep. In my mind I pick him up in my arms and tuck him in with a quick kiss to his forehead, as I always did.

My son's phone vibrates and sings, and the illusion vanishes. The man we'd raised answers the text from his girlfriend and, without a word, he responds and goes back to packing.

That young boy is long gone now. When I'm lucky, though, I still see him in my dreams.

THE LESSONS WE LEARNED TOGETHER

I had a surprise reminder of how I spent his youth just this last week. I came across a review of Pray for Daylight that I'd never seen before. It reminded me of an earlier time. Since I included my son through the adventure that was micro-budget filmmaking, I realized he and I had both learned some very important life lessons together:

Actions define a person
Get everything in writing
Actors are really not the people they play on TV
First impressions are a lot more accurate than our politically correct world wants you to believe
Giving someone the benefit of the doubt should never involve opening your wallet
The camera only adds about five pounds
Telling a woman that looks beautiful does not make you a sexist pig
Doing the right thing often means making a lot of people mad
Defend you and yours, because you can't count on anybody else to do it for you
Hypocrisy exists on both sides of the political spectrum
Live up to your agreements
A person who consistenly expects you to pick up the lunch bill is a mooch
Work comes before play
Anybody who advocates intolerance and violence in the name of their deity wouldn't know a genuine spiritual experience if it bit them in the ass
Rudeness and shyness are two different things
Anything worth doing is difficult and likely expensive
Say "Yes" when it matters, even if it's hard
Say "No" when you have to, even when it hurts
Take credit for your work. If not, someone else will
Perception is often far more important than facts
"Follow your bliss" does not excuse you from your responsibilities
A friend who puts conditions on your friendship isn't a friend at all
Talent is never enough
When you fail, take your lumps, learn your lessons, and move forward

All in all, not a bad set of values to pass on to my son.

NEW HORIZONS

As sad as I am about my boy going to college, there is a bright side to this life change: The NerdPod can now finally move on.

I've never made any secret about how I feel about Minneapolis. Had it been up to me, we would have moved away from the Upper Midwest back in 2001. The reason we stayed so long, frankly, was to provide stability for our son.

Our boy had a rough first few years. We moved constantly in those early days, following this job or that. The poor kid never stayed in one place long enough to make any decent friends.

2001 -- the year we bought this house -- changed all of that. He landed the friends that he still has to this day. He liked his house, he liked his school, and he was happy. At that point SpousalGoddess and I decided that we would stay in Minnesota through his High School graduation. After that, we'd see where we stood.

Mission accomplished.

Now it's just the three of us. With another winter looming, I'm unabashed in my desire to move on. Sporty Girl wants to live in a climate that doesn't make us house-bound six months out of the year, and where she can see mountains and the ocean without a plane ride. Best of all, with SpousalGoddess' MS is in-check,it's time to, as her neurologist put it, "Live our life with MS, instead of living our life for MS."

So, what's next?

That all depends. With GeminiTwin now working at a Visual Effects job in California, and actively campaigning to get me out there, things might be changing very quickly indeed. It's too early to make any plans, of course. Nevertheless, for the first time since 2001, our world looks like it might be completely changing due to our own desires, and not because of something we couldn't anticipate.

It's about time.

NEW CHAPTERS

Of course, wherever we go, our son will always have his home. The little bundle that I've called "Fountain Boy of the North", "The Monkey", "MonkeyBoy", "MonkeyDude", and finally just "The Dude" is ours. While I draw breath, he will always have a roof to put over his head, a fire to warm himself by, and bread to fill his belly. For all the joy he has brought me, that is the very least I can do.

As for now, though, it's time to pack, to reflect, and to gather as many hugs as we can. Oh, and to buy some Kleenex. Something tells me we'll be needing a lot of those in the coming week.

Clearing Out the Carbon

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 19:55:00 +0000

It goes without saying that my mouth has gotten me into a heaping bowlful of trouble over the past dozen or so years. I'm not surprised. I call it like I see it. In the Passive Aggressive Playground of Minneapolis, that's not a good traight to have.

Over the past couple of years I've tried to temper my opinions. You know, focus on the bright side. Be positive.

Most days, it works. Unfortunately, it does tend to leave a mental carbon residue that absolutely has to be blown out to allow smoother operation.

Today? Today is a day to clean out the pipes.

I'm sure I'll probably offend some people in the process, but I'm okay with that. Last time I checked, the right to be "not offended" wasn't found anywhere in our Constitution. It's officially not my problem.

Let's get started, shall we?

#1 FACEBOOK SORT OF SUCKS

I admit it; I'm on Facebook. I even use it a fair amount. By that I mean, yes, I check it a couple of times per day, and even update my "status" occassionally. Since the site has allowed me to reconnect with old friends from England, and to maintain my new friends from Florida and even further, it's been generally worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in my case that's about where Facebook stops being a positive influence.

First off, Facebook has hurt this blog. Before I really got sucked into it, my blog was my voice. If I had an opinion to share, or an idea to float, I'd sit down and compose a missive for this site so that my friends could share in it. Now? I write the comment as an awkward third-person status update", post it on my "profile", and away I go.

That sucks. Sure, it's my fault that I let things go that way, but it still stinks.

Worse, once you get past the "reconnecting with old friends" allure, everything else about Facebook is just horrible:

The interface is confusing
The data mining of its users is outrageous
The games are generally awful, BBS-style junk

Truth be told, were it not for a few friends with whom I have direct connections through the site, I'd probably shut down my profile.

Of course, I realize this is a temporary problem. Not so terribly long ago, myspace.com was the monster that I detested. Now? It's a shell of its former self. That it fell apart so quickly should serve as a warning to the staff behind Facebook. To me, I find the knowledge that it will likely end, and quickly, very comforting.

# 2 CONSOLE GAMING IS ACTUALLY A BLAST

Before I got my XBox360 for my birthday, I had a terrible habit: I rarely finished games I purchased.

I didn't mean to be such a schmuck about it. I'd buy a game for my PC, install it, and play, fully invested in the purchase. Then, inevitably, after about a week, I would just lose interest.

Embarrassing? Hell, yeah. What was wrong with me?

Nothing, it turns out. No, the problem was where I was playing. You see, sitting at a desk and working in fron of a computer all day is not conducive to making a person want to come home and play a game in front of, well, a computer. In fact, it makes the game feel a little bit like -- you guessed it -- work.

By contrast, since playing games on my living room-installed XBox360, I've
completed:

Fallout3
Dragon Age: Origins
Mass Effect
Mass Effect 2
Red Dead Redemption
Fable II
Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2

I'm also very, very close to finishing Grand Theft Auto IV, and am excited about diving into Borderlands.

Make no mistake: These are big games. With the exception of Call of Duty: MW2's short campaign, these titles represent many, many, many hours of gameplay. Yet I've finished all of these titlessince receiving this system in October of 2009.

Oh, and to be clear, yes, I have a life.

So, what makes the difference? After all, my PC is several orders of magnitude more powerful than the 360. Why is my relatively low-power living room system more conducive to completing titles?

It's comfortable.

Really, that's it.

When I get a game for the 360, I sit down, pop in the DVD (or, alternately, download it from Microsoft's Steam-like product), and start the game. No fuss. No muss.

More to the point, it's relaxing to play on the living room couch. I sit back, coffee cup or glass of Crystal Light by my side, and play the game on my 32" LCD TV. I settle more into the game's world more than I ever do on a PC, and come out of the other side feeling much, much better. Which is, you know, the point of playing games.

Better still, when I play in the living room, it becomes more of a social experience. Sporty Girl loved watching me blow people's heads off in Fallout3, for example, while Spousal dug the environments in Red Dead Redemption. They'd kibbitz and laugh, making the entire experience much, much more pleasant.

That's a far cry from a PC game, honestly.

Now consoles don't do all gaming well. My PC is still the go-to machine for Flight Simulators, MMOs, and strategy games. Beyond that, though, I keep my PC as an actual computer.

That's cool.

In short, I dig my XBox360, slight limitations and all.

# 3. ENOUGH WITH THE "PLEASE SEE MY SHOW!" EMAILS!

Those of you with theater friends should understand this complaint. At all times of the year we receive the dreaded "please come support my show" emails. They are always couched in semi-familiar language, and always end with the list of the never-less-than-shockingly-expensive ticket prices.

These emails used to repesent something of a guilt trip to me. The people who wrote them were generally actors with whom we had worked either on TV, or on stage, or even in our movies. We'd survived a production with each and every one of them, and as such felt like we owed them the time. How could we say "No?".

At first I tried to support a few of my friends and their theater careers. (They know who they are.) Eventually, though, I just gave up. Not only were the shows, at best, only mildly entertaining, they were always wildly expensive. Worse, when I'd offer to get together with said people in a non-theater setting, things somehow never seemed to work out.

No more.

Rather than waste time saying "No!" to every pleading email from my fair-weather, hear-from-them-only-when-they-need-asses-in-seats friends, I've instead decided to offer up this form letter. Feel free to use it should the need arise:

"Dear [Theater Friend];

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write. After the great time we had [performing / harrassing the stage manager / passed out at the cast party], I really thought we'd see each other [more often / rarely / in our nightmares]. Oh, well, that's just how our [work schedules / life schedules / restraining orders] worked out, eh?

Unfortunately, I'm writing to let you know that I won't be attending your performance of [overproduced musical / tedious drama / painfully unfunny comedy / experimental foreign shite ]. The truth of the matter is that, though I'd like to be there to [support you / ridicule the leads / gouge my eyes out with a golf pencil] the cost of the tickets is [too high / ludicrous / mafia-level extortion]. Seriously, the money for a single ticket to your show is enough to [buy a couple of DVDs featuring real actors / purchase a ticket to Vegas where I can happily ignore stage shows / balance the budget of Zimbabwee]. Don't you think that's a little steep?

Nevertheless, here's hoping everything goes well. I'm sure you'll have [a couple of / a few / dozens of] people attend the run. I'm sure you'll give them [a good show / severe heart burn / a Grand Mal siezure]!

[Best Regards / Cease and Desist / This is your final warning],

Northern Misfit"

Sure, I'm making light, but my frustration is real. Remember, my ire is focused on that most irksome of characters: The Virtual Panhandler. We're talking about the kind of person with whom you thought you had a connection, but who fell off the face of the planet, and only emails you to plead for your money.

You know what? I have a son going to college. I already have enough "I need cash" requests ahead of me to last a few years.

Sadly, shameless mooching is no longer limited to just begging others to see their stage shows. Recently, an acquaintance of ours had the following message posted on their Facebook wall by a local actor:

"It was so good to see you and your family again the other day. Attached you'll find a link to a trailer for a local movie that I was in:"

I shit you not.

Enough already. If the only reason either SpousalGoddess or I are still in your email address book is to be a member of your "Gotta Put Asses In Seats" mass-mailings, kindly remove us now. I sincerely doubt either of us will notice the difference.

Wow! That feels a lot better.

Off to face the rest of my day!

Opting Out

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 19:28:00 +0000

PATIENT: Doctor, doctor! It hurts when I do this!
DOCTOR: So don't do that!

The Fourth of July holiday weekend just finished, and with it CONVergence 2010. While most local Minnesotans were out on enjoying the lakes, grilling burgers on an open flame, and generally just soaking up the sun, the local Science Fiction fan community huddled inside a major local hotel to indulge in four days of nerdery, debauchery, and general excess.

The NerdPod did not attend.

We'd originally planned to go. SpousalGoddess even pre-registered at the close of the 2009 convention, saying "Why fight it? We always show up." Since we'd had a pretty good time during the 2009 convention, it stood to reason that the 2010 event would be a blast.

What changed, then? What made us throw away our pre-registration fees and opt for other plans?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

That's why we didn't go.

MOVING ON

There comes a point in any failing relationship where one or both parties realizes that, despite their best efforts, things aren't going to work out. The time for blame and anger is over. The time to move on has finally arrived.

The NerdPod hit that point with CONvergence this year. I won't bore my readers with the details. Suffice it to say that we hit a particular tipping point, and decided that we'd had enough. It was time for CONvergence and the NerdPod to part ways.

It was a simple affair. I emailed the organizers and cancelled the 3D modeling panel I was going to hold, and politely begged out of the panels on which I was planning to speak. Afterwards we packed our bags and left town for a long vacation weekend. Rather than miss another wonderful Fourth of July holidy by hiding indoors, we:

Attended The Dude's Two Day Freshman "Getting Started" seminar at UND
Grilled out with family
Played golf in 98 degree heat
Walked
Watched movies
Showed the kid's grandmother the joy that is Failblog.org
Talked
Laughed
Relaxed

Though we're both a little tired from hundreds of miles of driving, both SpousalGoddess and I feel wonderful. The time away from all things Nerd was fantastic. We reconnected with ourselves in a way that we hadn't realized we'd needed.

It was wonderful.

BREAKING UP

I'm not surprised that avoiding the convention felt so good. Firstly, CONvergence was always almost too much for me to take. Sure, after a year of being a staid professional, those first twelve hours of being able to express my nerdery so openly had always been as refreshing and
unexpected as finding an Icee stand in the middle of the Sahara. Unfortunately, the experience quickly became overwhelming. It was as if the Icee machine suddenly turned into a firehose, and the nozzle was pointed straight into my mouth.

Secondly, the location of the convention was on the other side of the Twin Cities from the NerdCave. Since neither Spousal nor I like to pay for a hotel room in the metro area where we live, that meant every single day at the con required ninety minutes of commute time.

Not too appealing, that.

Thirdly, the room parties never really got going until well past our bedtime. As a result, most of the wild antics that people would reflect on for the following year were never experienced by either SpousalGoddess or I.

None of those things are the convention's fault, of course. It just wasn't a good fit.

Yet even as I write those words, though, I know that I'm avoiding the real reason why the con and I don't mesh. Oh, I try to rationalize it, but it's a wasted effort. The truth, as the saying go, must out.

The truth is that I'm just too damned old to attend Science Fiction conventions any longer.

ACCEPTANCE

"You're only as old as you feel," is the cliche' that gets bandied about by my peers. Well, folks, I feel every one of my forty-three years. To a man my age, dressing up in a Starfleet uniform just seems damned silly.

My family and I face hard realities every single day. We have medical needs that are often more than a little scary. We're coping with the loss of sending our oldest child off to college. We work hard in our respective careers to make sure that those medical needs are met. Given all of that, the loss of connection to reality that the convention world offers isn't comforting, it's bothersome.

SpousalGoddess and I have our escapes. We revel in our long walks, bike rides, and road trips. Sure, we also love leveling our toons in our MMOs, and yes, we've got a semi-regular "Descent" game going with Garrett, but only when time and schedules allow. Our fantasy world is very much at the mercy of this world's schedule. As, of course, it should be.

More to the point, though, fandom is moving away from material that I really care about. "Buffy" is a relic from a different era. "Firefly" has been off the air for nearly a decade. Moore's "Battlestar Galactica", though only two years gone, no longer feels relevant. The "Star Trek" I knew and loved is long dead, and the less said about what "Star Wars" has become, the better. My connection to the fanbase -- always tenuous at best -- is growing weaker with each passing day.

That's okay. For everything there is a season. I just wish I'd known that I'd been living in this particular love's autumn a little sooner.

A NEW HORIZON

One of the CONvergence panels on which I was to speak this year was titled "How to Play MMOs and Still Have a Life". I'd initially looked forward to it, and even knew what I was going to say:

"The trick is to have a life first. Only play when you have some free time, and then only for a couple of hours at a stretch. Easy peasy."

As time went on, though, I realized that I wasn't going to have much credibility with the audience. First off, I've never "maxed out" a character in any of my MMOs. Secondly, I play only a handful of hours per month, even when I'm at my most addicted. Thirdly, the entire
Guild sub-culture doesn't appeal to me at all. I played MMOs only to have a fun escape with my wife, and to explore artificial worlds together. Since those were my expectations, I always felt like I was winning those games.

By contrast, many people take their MMOs deadly seriously. They invest hours into tweaking out their toons, organizing raids, and getting their hands on every bit of virtual loot as they can. To these folks, the entire point of the MMO is to achieve these goals. Neither of us is wrong, of course. We're both just enjoying a different side of the same activity.

So it is with me and Science Fiction and Fantasy fandom. While some enjoy the deep immersion, I think I'm much more comfortable watching these days from a safe distance. In the meantime, I'm filling my evenings with learning to solder, with RC flying, and with perfecting my awesome Penne Ariabiata and Sausage recipie. In the long term I'm thinking of the day when our daughter moves out, and what kind of home we'll need then.

Exciting? To an outsider, probably not. To me, though, it makes for a very, very good life.

I'll take that over a fantasy any day of the week.

DAVE School: Two Years Later

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 12:55:00 +0000

Sunday, May 30, 2010
Maple Grove, MN

The vacuum cleaner landed with a cheap-plastic thump in the back of the mini-van. The cord bunched in my hand, but a quick flick of my wrist sent it pulsing out in a rubber-coated sine-wave behind my back. A move of my feet on the driveway, and I was finally ready to clean up the vehicle lovingly known as The Beast.

I flipped the switch to "on", and the vacuum cleaner howled to life. A roar like hailstones on a tin roof filled the air as two year's worth of dust and grit slammed into the machine's opening.

I flinched. Two years? Had I really let this car remain dirty for that long? Oh, we'd run it through a drive-thru cleaner now and again, but the interior? Short of straightening her out, she'd remained untouched since I'd taken her on the long road to Orlando, Florida, in June of 2008.

The nose of the vacuum cleaner bumped hard against the rear seat mounting. I backed it up and pushed it towards the opening more gently, lowering the housing while I did. A fresh hailstorm erupted in the casing as I found new grit to remove.

Had it really been two years? That was two-thirds of the time I'd spent in England, and half of my time spent in Germany. I recalled those adventures as vast swathes of time. The days where I headed down to Florida? That felt like yesterday.

Except it wasn't, and I knew it.

I finished up the cargo area of the trunk and lowered the vacuum cleaner to the ground.

"Kris," I yelled out, "It's ready."

"Coming!" SpousalGoddess' voice drifted from around the side of the house. She was busy trimming hedges in the Memorial Day weekend heat. I made sure she kept drinking, and was wearing light enough clothes to keep her temperature down, but I still worried. I'd be foolish if I didn't.

I stepped back from the trunk and looked down the street.

Two years...

On this weekend in May 2008 I'd just left my job as a Project Manager. I'd intended to spend a month off with my family before I headed to Florida for a year. It hadn't worked out that way. I'd foolishly agreed to be the lead pirate in Pirates of the Great Lakes at Lyric Arts for performances that June. That show had sucked up all of my time.

I frowned. I'd been dumb to do that. I should have spent time with the kids.

SpousalGoddess appeared from around the corner of the house. She looked terrific. Her new MS-driven peskatarian diet was not only keeping her energy levels up, it had utterly revitalized her. Her skin glowed in a way I hadn't seen in years, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that I hadn't realized that I'd missed. She wiped the back of her hand against her forehead, stepped up to the massive tan and black block of the removed rear set of the minivan sitting in the driveway, and smiled.

"Ready?"she asked, a little out-of-breath.

"Ready," I said. We both squatted down, grabbed the seat, and nodded.

"On three," I said. "One, two, three!"

The seat was heavier than I'd remembered. We'd removed it to load my car for the trip down south. I'd needed every inch of the extra space for my gear, but I'd missed the ability to carry six people. Without it, the minivan just didn't feel complete.

We slammed the seat into the carpet in the cargo bay. The wheels of the van compressed under the impact, but recovered.

"You okay?" I asked SpousalGoddess.

"Yeah!" she said, smiling.

I nodded, and pushed the seat towards its mounts.

Even now, two years later, I don't like to think about the day that I left for school. The pain might not be as sharp, but it's still there.

The seat slid into its mounts and "clicked" hard into place.

"Are we in?" SpousalGoddess asked.

I pushed and pulled the seat. It didn't budge.

"Yep," I said. "We're good."

"Excellent!" she replied. She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. "I'm going to get back to the bushes." Off she went around the corner of the house, only stopping to grab her clippers.

I picked up the vacuum cleaner, gathered up the cord, and moved towards the side door.

"I love this door," RedFro had exclaimed on one of our trips to the DAVE School. "I feel like I should hop out of this thing with a machine gun. "

"Great," I'd said, laughing. "It's an Urban Assault Vehicle!"

"Yeah, right!" GeminiTwin had replied, and we'd all laughed.

I slid the door open, slammed the vacuum cleaner into place, and turned it on. Dust and grime from both Minnesota and Floria vanished into the mechanical maelstrom.

I'd loved going to school with those guys. The stress and pressure of Block One had long since faded and been replaced by memories of karaoke out with Scully and GeminiTwin, playing PS3 with RedFro, and those brief weekends where we could actually have fun. It was great.

I slid the vacuum cleaner under the seat. The noise increased to an insane level.

No, it wasn't just the fun that I missed. Those weeks at the DAVE School were the most satisfyingly creative time in my life. I could not be more proud of the models and images I created during my time there. Learning more about LightWave, being forced to be use observational skills that I thought I'd lost, doing things that honestly scared the crap out fo me -- and then doing them well -- was amazing. I wouldn't trade that time for the world.

I lowered the vacuum cleaner out of the side door and looked back at the carpet. It was clean now, nothing like The Beast from Florida. I didn't recognize it at all.

I opened the passenger side door and started the process again. The noise wasn't as loud as in the back seat, but it came close.

DAVE School hadn't been easy, of course. I'd missed my family terribly. I lost an entire summer with my wife and children. I wasn't there to comfort my wife as she adjusted to the then-brutal schedule of her workplace. Though I enjoyed what I did, the guilt I felt for leaving my wife with those responsibilities ripped me apart.

I finished up the passenger side, marveling again at the transformation in the carpet, and moved to the driver side. Not surprisingly, the noise amount of grit that came up from the floor was truly epic.

Things would have been different had Spousal received anything other than occasional shows of support while I'd been away. While I was spending time with new friends, she was practically cut off from human companionship. Some of that was her job. The rest was that she was rarely called to spend time with people.

After I returned, I learned the variety of reasons for why our friends hadn't been there for her at that time. Regardless of the causes, the result had been that she'd been crushingly alone while I'd been away. It had sapped her soul in more ways than I could count.

The sound coming from the vacuum cleaner had quieted to the occasional dull pop and thud of a microwave popcorn bag achieving maximum capacity. I turned off the machine, hauled it out of the van, and put it down behind me.

The Beast's interior had been transformed. It no longer looked like the warhorse that had conquered the Tennessee River Valley with me on a hot June day in 2008. Now it looked very much like the car I'd hauled my children around with in the previous decade.

Funny; I hadn't realized how much I'd missed that sight.

I'd come back from DAVE School earlier than I'd intended, but with the endorsement of its owner that I was "ready to work in the field." I'd needed no more encouragement than that to start looking for work. Armed with the confidence of solid knowledge, a good work ethic, and German-trained organizational skills, I was certain I'd be able to land a job in no time.

I unplugged the vacuum cleaner, wrapped up the cord, and rolled it into the garage. The next steps of cleaning for The Beast would be at a professional shop. I'd let guys who did this day in and day out shine her up from here. Now, at least, I wouldn't be embarrassed to bring her there.
My career hadn't worked out the way that I'd hoped. Oh, I had anded work, and even made money, but I'd been shocked at how little I got paid. Worse, steady employment seemed like a pipe dream. Work would be job-to-job, in a permanent gypsy-like existence. Studio jobs? Those would be something I could hope to earn.

Nevertheless, I was happy. I loved the challenge. I loved the work. I felt better about myself than I ever had.

Then, one cold day in April 2009, our world changed. I realized again that I had larger obligations than my own wants and desires. I was a husband and father first, and everything else second.

SpousalGoddess appeared from around the corner. She popped open The Beast's side door and sucked in quick breath. "Look at that!"

"Yeah," I said. "Haven't seen it look like that for a while, have you?"

She just laughed. Hearing that made me smile.

A flashbulb memory hit me: It was July, 2009, and I was on my cell phone with a local client. He'd given me a break only two months earlier. One hundred twenty hours of work at a decent rate had been put on the table. How could I refuse. Now he was on the phone to ask me to come on-site to do some work the following day.

I turned him down. I'd just started my new full-time job, and didn't want to screw that up.

"What do you mean you have a full-time job?" He sounded understandably annoyed.

"I had to take it." I told him. Unfortunately his promised hours had turned out to be so much smoke. Since providing my first deliverable weeks earlier, I'd barely heard from him since.

"Why?" he asked.

"I have to help pay off medical expenses, and provide more insurance." It was more than he needed to know, of course, but I figured the truth would be appreciated.

He asked me what I was doing, and I told him I'd taken a job in IT.

There was a pause, as if I'd spoken another language. When he finally spoke, it was with an almost haunted tone.

"But that's not what you want to do." He said those words as if I'd offered to let a Bull Shark munch on my testes.

"No," I'd replied. "But it's what I have to do."

The phone call ended moments later.

I finally finished his job later that year. I was relieved to get it done. The juggling act of working a more-than-full-time job and doing client work turned out to be one I couldn't manage. I felt bad about it. Still do, honestly.

"I'm going to go get a shower," SpousalGoddess said.

"Okay," said. "I'll be in there in a second."

The door to the house whispered shut behind her.

I looked back at The Beast. She was cleaner now, but the paint on her roof was chipping, and rust stains licked at her bottom runners. I could get that repaired, of course, but she'd never again be the car that once drove GeminiTwin, RedFro, Scully and I to those classes where skill and sweat met imagination.

I put away my work gloves and straightened up the garage after myself. No need to make a mess in a place we'd just cleaned.

I still spoke with both of GeminiTwin and RedFro regularly, talking with GeminiTwin by phone and texting RedFro every other day or so. I'd been excited to see them both graduate, and to watch my former class's final project at the website. That was what all the hard worked had been leading up to, after all.

Unfortunately, in my time as a freelancer, I'd also ended up performing more actual work in the field than either of them. Though he'd graduated DAVE School in December of 2008, RedFro has yet to land a job as a 3D or Visual Effects artist. Neither has GeminiTwin, who graduated in June of 2009.

In the intervening time, RedFro has either worked as with his family's traveling business, or as a temp when home. GeminiTwin hadn't faired any better. He'd interviewed a few times, but in the end he tried to get his job back as a programmer. Unfortunately, his former company was enduring a hiring freeze, so he had to wait it out. As of our last conversation, he's still waiting.

My two compatriot Minnesotan buddies from school faired no better. Though both were incredibly talented and hard-working, neither had landed a long-term gig. One managed to get an interview with Flurry Studios -- a feat I hadn't managed -- and even landed some freelance work locally and online. The financial reality of the paychecks in the field soon dampened his enthusiasm. He's now an Apple support tech, focusing on iPods. His pay is not much better than my son's at his local theater.

The other wasn't as lucky. He stayed behind in Florida for six months, but returned when he failed to land even the most basic gig. At last check, he's still looking for work.

Of my class only two people landed jobs in the field. SmilingDrew -- easily one of the most pleasant guys I've ever met -- ended up working on The Expendables at WorldWideFX in Shreveport, LA. He'd managed to get in with a gaggle of other DAVE Schoolers from the class preceding and following ours. The other was Scully. She now works for Ron Thorton of Babylon 5 fame at a studio in New Mexico. She's performed comp work for JJ Abrams, and works on projects you've likely seen on TV. She keeps me abreast of these developments in our regular emails, and always forwards me gigs in the hopes to help land me in a job doing what I really love.

As for me? I haven't had a paying client in months, and I've barely touched a 3D package in weeks. The frustration just got to be too hard to take.

The door swung open. The Dude leaned out, his newly-short hair tight against his scalp.

"Dad, are we going to fly RCs today?" His eyes sparkled at the question.

I smiled. "Yeah. I think we will."

I picked up the vacuum cleaner and headed back into the house.

Centering

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 11 May 2010 19:24:00 +0000

The New York Times just ran an article about Generation X having its mid-life crisis. It bemoans the fact that Ben Stiller is now playing "The Older Guy", that John Cusack is in his forties, and that Adam Sandler can even be taken as being mature.

Welcome to my world.

At forty-three, I am a "man of a certain age". I have a child entering college, a teenaged daughter, a mortgage, and chronic medical issues. If I stay up past ten at night I'm worthless for the following two days. Having more than one serving of caffiene per day turns my small intestine into a chemical warfare plant. My hair -- what's left of it -- is thinning and gray, and my personal Battle of the Belt Buckle becomes more difficult with each passing week. Any way you measure it, I'm getting old.

You know what? It ain't that bad.

EMBRACING CHANGE

Aging happens. No matter how hard we try, eventually we all have to face our own momento mori.

I've tried to ignore my own mortality. Sure, I was shocked to see how I looked in the behind-the-scenes photos from Pray for Daylight, but I wrote it off as fatigue and stress. When I taught a reflection of myself in the glass of an elevator while working at the Land of Concentric Circles, for a moment I didn't recognize the middle-aged man that stared back at me. My own reflection in the bathroom mirror at DAVE School would send me reeling. Sure, I felt eighteen again, but that geezer's face in the glass begged to differ.

It took my wife's diagnosis and reconnecting with childhood peers to make me come to peace with my age. The former makes perfect sense; when faced with the challenges we have ahead, worrying about carrying your age well goes right out the window. The latter, though, was a bit of a surprise.

I have Facebook to thank for my insight. Sure, Facebook has received its fair share of well-deserved beatings in the press. Yes, its privacy policies are horrifying. Its games are nothing more than thinly-veiled data collection systems, and "South Park" skewered the whole phenomenon perfectly. Nevertheless, if it hadn't been for Facebook, I never would have reconnected with my old High School Buddies from England.

Seeing the faces of those old friends for the first time in twenty-six years was a shock. That gangly, nerdy kid with the thick glasses and shock of dark hair who used to make me laugh at lunch? Now he was a thick, silver-topped man with well-worn laugh lines. The dashing, quiet-spoken officer's son? A rotund father in his mid forties with a beautiful family. The gorgeous blonde actress whom I had more than a few crushes on during middle and High School? Now she's a woman in her forties, who looks surprisingly like her mom.

Seeing those old friends as they are today made me grin. Sure, they looked older, but so did I! We were all in the same boat.

Suddenly, I didn't feel quite so alone.

THE SILVER LINING

Aging has all kinds of downsides. We all know that. What we often don't consider, however, is what growing old offers us in return.

Yes, our children leaving home will be sad, but it will also simplify our lives. With that simplicity comes freedom. Freedom to work, to travel, to study, and even just to laugh and love.

Getting older means we'll never again be the hot-shot up-and-comer we once were (or hoped we would be) in our career. What that also means, though, is that we don't have to be an up-and-comer any longer. Years of experience can be put to use in the same field, or another should we so choose. We can instead focus on what is really important to us as individuals. In that way, the pressures of work lighten that much more.

We may not have any more kids of our own, but that doesn't mean we won't be able to hold babies again. Sure, they'll call us "Grandma" and "Grandpa", but that's okay. Besides, at the end of the day we can hand the babies back and get a good night's sleep.

Volunteerism is always good. Teach at a youth shelter, or even at a local community college. Give something back to your community.

Aging doesn't mean we don't take care of ourselves. Sure, we might not be able to lift weights like a kid, but we can still try to keep in shape. Walking and hiking is great exercise at any age. Don't let our park systems go to waste!

And hey! At fifty-five, those senior citizens discounts start to kick in. You can rest assured that I'll be delighted to use them when I can.

LETTING GO

Of course, part of aging is letting go. We have to learn to let go of pain, of sorrow, and what-might-have-beens.

Let go of those youthful dreams that have no way of coming to pass. Find those dreams of yours that just aren't realistic any more and put them away. It doesn't make you a bad person; it makes you a sane one. Being realistic lowers stress, which leads to happiness, too. You'd be surprised at how free you'll feel after taking that step.

Stop comparing yourself to more or less successful peers. Life isn't about what one hasn't accomplished. Life is about our personal successes. So what if you didn't get a doctorate, or make a million? Focus on what you have done. Even if it's showing up as a janitor for fifteen year at the same job, be proud of the fact that you had a job, and kept it.

Let go of the idea that we need to know about the state of the economy, our depleting energy reserves, and the crisis de jour at every moment. We don't. Turn off the TV, ignore the news websites, and take care of your own. Bad news, as they say, will attend to itself.

Stop worrying about terrorists. There have always been terrorists, and there always will be terrorists. Worrying about them gives them power. Just use common sense, don't wear an American Eagle belt buckle when you fly overseas, and remember the phrase "I'm Canadian, eh?". You'll be fine.

FIND JOY

The life you're living right now is all you get. There are no do-overs. Worse, the rulebooks are contradictory, the goal is confusing, and the endgame is nebulous at best. If that's not a reason to enjoy the time we have on this planet, I don't know what is.

Don't be afraid to be happy today because of what might happen tomorrow. Enjoy the moments as they come.

Sit in the sun when you can. Vitamin D is good for you.

Listen to people when they talk. Really listen to them, and marvel at the unlikely chain of events that had to come into place in order for that person to be able to communicate to you at all.

Watch kids at play. Just not too much, or the cops will show up and ask really awkward questions.

Smile and laugh. It heals you.

Forgive.

Above all else, just allow yourself to be happy when you can. Sorrow, too, will arrive when it does. Don't ruin your life waiting for it to happen.

Setting Son

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 19:56:00 +0000

My son heads off to college in a few months. The boy for whom we stayed in Minnesota these long years will be gone. Our home will never be the same.

It's expected. Life moves on. I'll miss him, and I'll worry, as all fathers do. I'm also proud. My son is off to live his life. That is an enormous accomplishment.

Seeing him readying for campus life, planning his course schedule and thinking of his future has made me even more reflective than normal. My boy is off to live his life without me. He's moved from child to young man so quickly that I honestly feel like I've missed much of the journey.

Seeing him so young reminds me of my own youth. It makes me want to understand, just a little more, who I am, and what formed me. I step back from the thousands of moments that make up my memories and try to see the shape of my life, but it doesn't work. I'm still too close to my own journey to see the outlines of my life.

I can reflect, though, so I will.

BOY IN BLUE

This blog isn't named randomly. I've always been a misfit. I've always fallen in between the
uncomfortable areas of cultural expectation. Nowhere has this been more apparent than in my teen years.

When I was barely fourteen, I decided that I wanted to be a military officer.

Wait; that's not true. What I really wanted to be was a Starfleet Officer. Since Starfleet wasn't real I decided that the Air Force would have to do.

Not willing to wait until I graduated High School, I jumped into training where I could. I joined Civil Air Patrol. I joined AFJROTC. I studied hard, focused on what I wanted, and was termined to be a cadet Officer as quickly as I could.

The hard work paid off. I was a cadet second lieutenant in AFJROTC within a year. I attended staff meetings, and learned how to handle myself in group discussions. I use those skills I learned at fifteen to this very day.

Eventually, my parents were stationed in North Dakota. AFJROTC wasn't part of the school program, so I focused on Civil Air Patrol. I made first lieutenant upon arrival, and was promoted to a cadet squadron commander. I instructed my flight in customs and courtisies, learned emergency medical techniques alongside them, and commanded them in the field during SARCAPs. It was hard, exhausting work that never seemed to end.

"You don't seem to be enjoying this, love," my mom said to me after a particularly gruelling weekend SARCAP exercise.

"I'm not," I replied. The answer surprised me. Somewhere along the line, I realized that I
really, really didn't enjoy the cadet experience. It wasn't me, and I knew it.

On the day of my seventeenth birthday, as I inspected myself before the weekly squadron meeting in our squadron dayroom, I suddenly saw myself in the mirror. I was a seventeen-year-old boy dressed up in a uniform that meant absolutely nothing to me.

"I'm seventeen going on thirty," I said aloud. "I want to be seventeen while I still can."

Two days later I resigned from the squadron. I hung up my cadet uniform and never went back.

The time I spent as a cadet wasn't wasted, of course. When I was forced to join the Air Force to make my own way, it was like stepping into an old shoe. Air Force basic training was a joke. The stuff other trainees sweated was old hat to me.

Unfortunately, the communications and command skills I'd learned as a cadet were useless to an enlisted man. After seeing the military up close and personal, I finished out my four years and moved on.

Which was just as well. The lack of cadet work gave me more time to be on stage.

THE JANUS YEARS

By the way, did I also mention that I was also an actor?

Yes, an actor. As in "put-on-makeup-and-prance-around-the-stage" performer.

I started acting at thirteen. I landed lead roles all through Junior High, and generally acted and sang my heart out. I loved the stage to death.

My first two years of High School started out very differently. Big roles eluded me. Oh, I got parts, and the notes for performances were always positive, but I was always passed over for the meatier characters.

It was frustrating. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn't I land a lead?

I got the answer to that question during my parting conversation with my theater instructor in 1983. I met my teacher up in the control booth overlooking the stage to have him sign off my grades so I could leave. "Wow," he said, a warm smile on his face, "I don't know who I'll get now when I need a good short actor."

That was the first time I was called a "short" actor. It was far from my last.

Once I'd decided that I'd had enough of the whole military cadet thing, I opted to give the local
North Dakotan High School theater department a shot. I had some very stringent requirements, though; I wasn't going to be a spear-carrier any longer. If I didn't land a lead, I was done. I'd find something else to fill my time.

I landed a lead in my first audition.

I continued to have leads, and was busy throughout the remaining two years in North Dakota. Eventually, my last role in "Godspell" landed me a Theater Scholarship. Theater, it seemed, would be my life.

Except, of course, that it wasn't.

College theater turned out to be a different animal. The creative energy in High School was replaced by a pretension that I found both baffling and off-putting. Even if the money had been enough to keep me in school, the atmosphere of the program would have prompted me to turn the money back in and leave. Though I loved acting, I didn't want to be an actor like the "actors" I met in college. Out of money and out of options, I joined the Air Force to earn my way in the world.

I did do some theater while active duty. I hoped that the experience would be closer to the energy I'd felt in High School. I reasoned that, as in High School, people who were doing technical and challenging work during the day would just use the experience as an escape. Surely, this would be a good fit.

Not only was it not, it was actually worse. The pretension was still there, but now it was mixed
with obvious classism. Officers and their dependents got the best roles, talent notwithstanding.
Fantastic enlisted folks or dependents were ignored.

There was only one exception to this rule: If the enlisted staff member was attractive, and didn't mind being hit-on by officers, they'd land roles.

I was disillusioned. After closing my last performance of Guys and Dolls for the Kaiserslautern Performing Arts Center in 1988, I walked away from the boards with the idea that I'd get back to them when I left the service. Sure, it meant a two year break, but I could handle that.

I was wrong. I wouldn't take to the stage again until 2008.

After twenty years I found that the reflexes were all there, and I had no problems being part of a cast. I even worked my way to a lead relatively quickly. Even better, the people I met were genuinely nice.

One problem, though: I learned that I just didn't care for acting any longer. The creative itch that it had once scratched just wasn't there.

It was time to let it be.

Of course, that didn't stop me from having other pursuits.

PARADE OF PASSIONS

In my twenties, I wanted to be a science fiction writer. I wrote constantly, read about structure
and character development, and had heated arguments with my friend Matt about the virtues and flaws of our development pieces.

That dream died a hard death. The need to earn an income overwhelmed my desire to see my name on the spine of a book. The skills I learned did eventually lead to my becoming a published writer, and to technical documentation jobs, but those weren't the same.

Matt made it, though. That I didn't is still a regret. I do take a small bit of comfort knowing
that very few writers make much money from their efforts. It helps a little. Very, very little.

In my thirties my passion was filmmaking. Another childhood dream of mine, I focused so completely on completing movies that I pushed everything else -- career, friendships, even health -- to the side. It didn't matter that I was exhausted from the effort; what counted was that I was finally pursuing that dream.

It wasn't all for naught, of course. The skills I picked up from those extra-curricular studies lead both to doing extremely well at the DAVE School, and to my paying gigs as a 3D Artist. In the end, though, the experience of Stone Soup Films was, at least personally, full of sound and fury, and ultimately signified nothing.

As the decade closed, my long-lost love for art and technology flared up again. I went to Florida to change my career, and to remake my life. A few short months later I was back home again, and earning a paycheck (albeit a small one) for my efforts.

Now? I can barely open up a 3D package.

My passion, it seems, has burned itself out.

So, what has replaced it now?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

PARADISE LOST

I've used my passions to get me through the day for most of my life.

Now? Nothing.

I have work. I come home. We eat. We walk. We help the kids with homework. We go to sleep. On the weekends we pass the time with games, then sleep some more.

But passion? It's gone.

There are a lot of logical reasons for this. Our lives have changed dramatically. Getting to bed by nine o'clock is no longer an option, it's a necessity. The days of long hours of scripting, shooting, and big shot setups and breakdowns have to be a thing of the past.

It's an adjustment. "The new normal," as the saying goes.

I've tried to fill my time with old forms of entertainment. It hasn't gone well. TV is drek. MMOs are tired. Tabletop RPGs require too much work for me to find fun now. I've considered writing some more scripts. Unfortunately, I have nothing to say. Nothing.

It's not a good feeling.

SETTING SON

When I first learned in November of 1991 that SpousalGoddess and I would be having a baby, I was terrified. Fatherhood? What astonishing responsibility! I wasn't ready for that. How could I possibly be a dad to somebody.

Spousal calmed me down by talking about everything we'd do together. First steps. First words. First bikes. First toys. It would all be new.

I lit up when she told me that. For the next few months I spent hours looking at toys, and dreaming of what my baby would like.

My baby. Amazing.

When MonkeyBoy was born, I was astonished to look at my son and realize that I was really his father. His whole life was ahead of him, and I had to be there to help. I was even more astonished to realize that this knowledge didn't feel like a burden; it felt like a priviledge.

For the next seventeen years I watched him grow. We had our first steps, our first words, our first bikes, and our first toys. Christmas became about magic and mystery again. When his sister joined us four years later if felt right. We were a family.

Things are different now. My son spends a lot of time Skyping with his girlfriend, or working. When I do spend time with him, it's with a confident, calm, smart, and capable young man. He's sharp, witty, insightful, and focused. I see flashes of the young man I used to be in him, but also sparks of his mother at eighteen. I can't help but smile when I see those things.

When I look at his life, and compare it to the shape of mine, I'm stunned at how different his path has been. I'm proud of that. I never burdened him with the push to "...be the best..." or
to join an organization that he had no real desire to pursue. We let him find his passions, and
encouraged where we could.

That approach has had its successes and failures. His grades were never as high as either mine or his mothers. (In his defense, his school work has been much harder than any of the schools I attended while growing up.) On the other hand, he's more even-tempered and capable. The Dude never feels the need to find passions to fill his life. Instead, he just lives every day on its
own terms.

I couldn't be more proud of that.

It's wonderful when he and I go to movies together, or drive and talk. We laugh at a different level than even a year ago now. Our speech is more free, our discussions more frank. It's wonderful. But occasionally -- very occasionally -- I see a glimpse of the gap-toothed boy with the Harry Potter glasses and the gentle nature that used to share our home. It's only for a moment, of course, but it's enough to make me blink back tears.

That, I realize, is why I have no passion. I'm in mourning. When my son departs for college our lives will change forever. Oh, he'll come home for breaks during college, and on the odd weekend, but in too short a time our home will no longer feel like his home. It's only natural, of course, but it still breaks my heart.

That's why I find myself looking at the shape of my life. Very soon, it will change forever, and I want to remember what it's like right now.

I know this feeling will change, of course. I know that we'll find new ways to enjoy our lives once The Dude and Sporty Girl move out. I also know, though, that feeling this way is only natural. I just have to let it pass.

So I'll head home today and rest. I'll help Sporty Girl with her math homework. I'll review The Dude's 3D work. I'll pop on a little TV, and maybe play a little "Fable II". Then I'll go to bed and do it again.

And I'll be glad, no matter what, that I have one more day with my son under my roof.

Art Saturday: Stylized Space Art

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 14:41:00 +0000

Since The Dude just entered the February 2010 Foundation3d.com art contest with two pieces, I decided to give it a go as well.

The Dude's second piece is by far and away my favorite:

I decided to go with different look, though. I'm sick of trying to make everything photo-real these days, and wanted to go with something closer to my Storm Productions comic book roots.

Enjoy "Out On The Porch" and "Best View In The House".

Casual Friday -- Visit a Galaxy Far, Far Away...In Your Underwear

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 21:45:00 +0000

It's been ages since I wrote up a "Casual Friday" post. I decided to bebop back into the fold with this nifty little video:

Star Wars Galaxies is six years old now, and -- despite a terribly-handled mid-stream course change -- has managed to survive. Even more surprising, it's actually fun. It manages to capture the feeling of being in the Star Wars universe while also giving players a genuine sense of freedom as to what they want to do in the game world.

Trust me, after the by-the-numbers shoot-fest that is Star Trek Online, playing Galaxies again was a breath of fresh air.

Don't take my word for it, though. Go ahead and give the game a try for free with the Star Wars Galaxies 14 day trial. All it takes is a download to give it a shot. Why not?

Just When I Get Good At Something...

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 12:49:00 +0000

...technology makes the skill obsolete:

As a filmmaker I find this story exciting.

As a VFX artist, this makes me think "Well, there goes a chunk of my revenue stream."

Wow, am I ever glad that I have diverse skills now.

Of course, it's really not all that bad. A lot of the stuff said in the article is hyperbole. Tracking shots can be done with masking tape, with no need for massive camera systems. Also, the comps in "V" were, well, dreadful, so I wouldn't be bragging about them. Regardless, this is the first sign that things are really changing in the field.

2000 - 2009: The Nerdpod's Decade That Was

noreply@blogger.com (Avindair) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 14:47:00 +0000

In a few short hours, the first decade of the twenty-first century will come to a close.

Emotionally, I find it hard to believe. Just one glance at the nearly six-foot-tall young man who calls me "Dad", though, is enough to make it clear that ten years have, indeed, passed.

The ending of a decade feels very much like the ending of a chapter of a book. Lots of things happened, and some threads were started and even resolved, but the tale is still not finished.

Below are the biggest events in our lives in the chapter that was:

BILL OF HEALTH

Ten years ago, the biggest medical concerns on both SpousalGoddess' and my minds was weight loss. We dieted, we exercised, but for the life of us we couldn't seem to shed weight like our counterparts.

A decade on, that concern seems almost silly.

In 2005 I was diagnosed with three separate sleep disorders: Obstructive Sleep Apnea, Restless Leg Syndrom, and Shift Work Sleep Disorder. Any one of those issues is a challenge; all three together form a disability that has forced me to change careers not once, but twice in the past five years.

Fortunately, maintaining my health with this challenge is quite simple; I just need to sleep and work on a regular schedule. For that I feel blessed.

The other major medical condition in our family isn't quite as simple.

In April of 2009, SpousalGoddess was diagnosed with Relapse / Remission Multiple Sclerosis. This news has changed our lives entirely. We're adjusting to a world where stress has to be managed, where rest is a top priority, and where the national mantra -- "Push Yourself!"-- has to be a thing of the past.

More than anything, both diagnosis have made us realize how precious life is, and how every day has to count. It's made us more selective of what we do with our time, and more likely to say "No," than ever before. Neither development is a bad thing.

COMING OF AGE

Ten years ago, MonkeyDude was MonkeyBoy, and SportyGirl was a burbling bundle of hair and grins we lovingly called "The Alien".

While MonkeyDude's gentle nature already defined him, his social network was lacking. We lived in a tiny "1,100" square foot apartment that only reached those dimensions because the complex counted our parking space in the square footage. (No, I'm not kidding) Add in that we were in the not-so-friendly city of White Bear Lake, and the result was that we were always the outsiders.

In the decade that followed, MonkeyDude became a confident young man with a genuine set of marketable skills as a 3D artist, a talent for acting, and a hard work ethic. Meanwhile, The Alien became a beautiful young teenaged force of nature. Both strong and gentle in turns, she is every bit the daughter I'd hoped she would be.

I couldn't be more proud of my children if I tried. Sure, I'd hoped MonkeyDude's GPA would be higher, but I also know why he never seemed to be able to crack an "A" out of his Minnesotan instructors. (Besides, his ACT scores proved once-and-for-all that his grades did not reflect his knowledge.) Sporty Girl could keep a cleaner room, and be more conscientious about straightening up, but she's improving every month. Those are just nits, though. I'm lucky to have the kids that I do.

Most importantly, both of my kids have grown into people I enjoy being around. I count myself well and truly blessed for that.

A SMALL SLICE OF THE AMERICAN DREAM

The year 2000 was barely forty-eight hours old before SpousalGoddess and I started looking for homes. We'd come to realize that our apartment living in White Bear Lake was a rocket sled to nowhere, and opted to find a home closer to our workplace.

There followed three months of looking at homes in the Osseo area. We were unimpressed, both with the homes, and with the prices. Frustrated, we gave up the search.

As luck would have it, SpousalGoddess took a day off from work in April of 2000, and drove around what would be our new home city. She happened across a lovely townhome that was up for sale, and showed it to me.

Three months later, we moved in.

Nine months after that, we sold the townhome and moved into our current house.

It turned out that living in the townhome was like surviving in an expensive, 1,600 square foot apartment complex. Worse, within weeks of settling-in, our quiet next door neighbours were replaced by mouthy nurses who liked to bang on our bedroom walls during the day while SpousalGoddess and I had conversations. Those reasons -- along with elderly neighbor who actually glared at our kids when we said "Hello!" in the morning -- drove us back into the house hunting market.

Though the house we purchased wasn't perfect -- by a long shot -- it has been our kid's homes for most of the decade. Better still, the neighborhood has been fantastic, the kids Sporty Girl and MonkeyDude met became their friends, and, all in all, its been a pretty damned nice suburban existence.

Of course, now that MonkeyDude is looking to move out to college, we're starting to consider getting the place ready for sale. Though I'm not saddened by the prospect quite yet -- there's so much work to do that it's a little daunting -- I know that, when the day inevitably comes when we move on, the waterworks will flow freely.

More than anything, though, just having a place to call our home has been a gift. In an era when so many people have lost even that luxury, I can't help but be happy with what I have.

LIVING OUR DREAMS

Ten years ago, SpousalGoddess and I both wondered if we'd made a terrible mistake. We'd been in Minneapolis for over a year, and had yet to make a single friend. Our apartment was tiny and expensive, our work didn't pay that well, and we were just unhappy. How, then, would we make our world any better?

We did, of course. In the past ten years we:

Co-produced a local horror TV show
Became published writers
Made movies, including a feature length project
Performed on stage, both as ensemble and as leads
Took and excelled in leadership roles at work
Played board and RPG games around our home table
Both owned our own businesses, which enjoyed genuine successes before the market turned

Not bad for a couple who was new to the area and friendless in 2000.

Of course, all of those dreams came at a cost: Time with our kids.

Fortunately, even the time away from the kids was productive. Both MonkeyDude and Sporty Girl learned first hand how TV was made, and as such are mostly immune to actor worship. They also got to see what running a business costs, both financially and emotionally.

Ironically enough, it's consistenly been Corporate America that has demanded the most time away from my kids. Given the utter lack of loyalty shown by said firms, I am understandbly very protective of my time with my kids now. Let the execs making seven figures give up their families. That's not for me.

REDEFINING FRIENDSHIPS

There isn't a single day that goes by where I'm not glad that I went to Orlando, Florida for four months in 2008. Not for the skills I learned there, though those were nice. No, what makes me face every day with a smile is one simple fact: Friends really do remain friends, no matter the time, the distance, or the disagreements. That's what Orlando reminded me of in 2008.

The reason I needed that reminder, sadly, is that many of the people whom we called "friends" in the past decade caused me to question that simple truth. Their behavior was utterly baffling, until I finally worked out the code that made Minneapolis "friendships" work.

Because of these experiences -- and more particularly, given the cold way in which our friendship with Mistress Betty and Gamma Dragon just stopped without so much as an explanation -- I've since become very guarded with people in the region. I've been burned once too often, thanks.

Fortunately, there was some good that came of the pain our former friends put us through; each failed relationship ended up serving as an object lesson in bad behavior for our kids. To whit:

Don't Promise What You Won't Deliver
Doing the Right Thing Will Often Cause Resentment
Live Up to Your End of a Bargain
Be Respectful of Other's Homes and Property
Don't Drink Excessively
Don't Do Drugs
Take Care of Your Responsibilities First, and Your Dreams Will Follow
You Have a Right to Happiness, Despite What Others May Say
"Tolerance" Does Not Equate to "Permission"
Gender Equality Does Not Mean the Man is Always Wrong
Being a Bully Not Only Masks Insecurity, It Usually Makes the Person a Real Unpleasant Dick
Special Snowflakes? They Melt. (Sadly, They Usually Cause Damage in the Process)

I have to wonder if the reason my kids are so hard-working, so conscientious, and just such good people is that they saw every one of those examples up close and personal over the past decade.

By contrast, I hear from my DAVE School friends regularly, and every time we talk it's a treat. We even met Scully at the airport this past week, and spoke with her for three hours while she waited for a transfer flight. That we have such a good rapport after so many disagreements and so much time says a lot about friendships made out of the region.

LEARNING WHAT MATTERS

We've gained a lot in the past ten years. A new car, cameras, TVs, a fantastic DVD collection, and amazing computers.

They mean nothing.

What matters is family. Being there for your kids, for your spouse, and for each other is what makes life worth living.

When I look back at the decade, I don't really remember the time on a video game, or making a movie, or plugging away at work. What I remember is how my son's gap-toothed smile became the self-assured grin of a young man. I marvel at how my daughter went from the bundle in a blanket to the soccer-playing powerhouse that she is today. Most of all, though, I regret the distractions that didn't let me see those changes more closely than I did.

As we face the uncertain days ahead, let this knowledge be a source of strength: It doesn't matter what money you make, or what you can buy. What matters in the end is that you're there for your kids. If that sounds like a burden, rest assured that one day, far sooner than you'd like, they'll be moving on without you.

Make sure you've made memories with your kids that will last a lifetime. Heaven knows, I wish I had done more of that.

Here's to another chapter in our lives.

Tony Bruno
31 December 2009