Old Wahoo -- A crazy night in the nerditorium

If you're bored by talk of my gaming, best you move on to another post, port or page.

So this last Saturday night was to be a typical game night. Three people show up, chatting occurs, people start talking about food and eventually things get going at 7 PM and drag to a halt at 11 PM.

This all changed Friday.
Across Friday, several extra gamers signed up to say they were coming Saturday. There are two notables here, the White Dove and the fine gentleman who runs my Sunday night game, Chris. Chris was invited to come to my game and observe. Having the White Dove on hand made this an incredible moment as I play the White Dove on Sunday nights. Now, he could observe both my game mastering style and the original I pay homage too.
The food also took a twist on Friday. Knowing the party was headed to Old Wahoo(Oahu), Axeman suggested that a Hawai'ian Pizza would fit the evening over instant messenger. I took this an ran with it. Not only was Hawai'ian pizza now on the menu but Spam Wasubi and Hawai'ian style Macaroni Salad got into the mix.
The food styling led to another request, Aloha shirts. All but 3 of the 7 ( yes, seven at a game) wore Aloha shirts.
{Frak Frak Frak, why did I forget to play my Don Ho CDs? Frak Frak Frak}

The game kicked off with the usual chit chat and more importantly, the White Dove requested a recap of the last session. Being that Brandubh was not around and he is the player lexicon of all events, I took the time to bring the White Dove up to speed.

After that Chris arrived and I tool a moment to get him acquainted with his guest character, Grande, a knock off of Thomas Magnum Private Investigator.

When the game got rolling and the party got the islands, Chris asked them all to describe the group at the airport. This kicked off the night. You see, when I ask, its mean old Rodney trying to force everyone to Role Play. When another player asked, and with the bright eyed enthusiasm that Chris asked, the group responded positively. The answers were no different but the mood was positive.

From here, I was floored. I was in high gear. It got hot in the garage. Hot enough that I opened the garage door. That hasn't had to happened since I was 21.

The adventure wrapped up a little late, and I had to skip the last fight scene. Darn things take an hour or more. I won't bore you with the plot. If you know this Love Boat For Sale it was a Shadowrun adaption.


Chris was kind enough to send a review Monday. He thought the guys were really great. He also thought I was too prone to distraction.
"Have a good time sure, it is the weekend but don't tanget. Not with 7 players".

I feel the FAIL is strong in me with this one. Its like a need a handler. What am I, a veep candidate?

The other suggestion was to play to everyone and not let the alphas of the room dominate. I could not agree more and feel he may have seen an odd night. I tried to engage everyone but I was also high as a kite on all the good vibe that day. (Aloha Shirts, Magnum PI, food, Rum, more rum, The White Dove )

I am taking Chris' words to heart and doing my best to change the errors next time. However, a little polite nudge back on course during a tangent wouldn't hurt.

At least now he knows why during my first game session at his house I said
"Feel free to tell me to shut up. Often that's exactly what it takes."

I hope you the reader doesn't feel that way.

Wimping out

I have stopped using my straight razor. With kids around, I felt far too uncomfortable with a long straight blade on my face. Micheal recommended a safety razor. The first reaction was to say "no". My early shaving attempts as a young man were on such a device and they were not good. Michael dropped off a very nice ahndle and an assortment of razors one night.

The first night was retardedly harsh. The first pass went so well, I decided
"Hey, lets try Across the grain!"

Oye, it took two weeks for my skin to heal up. After that I stuck to with the grain (WTG) for about a month. I did however try several blades along the recommended course. One of the cheaper blades has really agreed with my skin and I have decided not to move forward till I went against the grain.

Tonight I shaved againt the grain and it was easy. Not as smooth of a shave as the old straight razor but it was easy and convenient. I think I will be moving to a safety razor. Its faster and easier. And in 10 years when I don't have runtlings jossling around, I will give the old straight razor another run.

Now, I need to see if Michael wants to sell that handle.

33 miles is not 26.7 miles, but 30 miles is not 30 miles either

So yeah, its been forever and I don't have much time to record events. Suck it up.

Two weeks ago Thursday I attempted a better way to work. It wasn't supposed to be any longer and it avoided stop signs. As I am the rare cyclist who obeys road signals, that's a plus for me.
So, here is the route. A 26/7 mile route

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Due to a right turn, in place of a left turn, I went this route... a 33 mile route

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After the ride, I was a bit angry but I didn't yet have my GPS data or a complete recollection of what roads were taken when. Though during the ride at Alpine, I knew things had gone wrong. After getting my data, I noticed that Arastradero connected to Alpine and thus a new 30 Mile route was born.



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This route was taken again last Friday. It takes 2:30 by wall clock and 2:10 - 2:15 of riding. Normally, I am a wall clock only guy. However, all the long waits in Mountain View start to irk me.

This Sunday the kids couldn't ride. I got to go out on my own! Michael Local, my sole reader with a split personality and presence (as opposed to Michael Midwest, the other personality) suggested Old La Honda. I was enthused but as I got out riding, I wondered "Which side?" You supposed to go up one side and down somewhere else on Old La Honda. Not being familiar with Old La Honda, I went to my age old nemesis, Kings Mountain Road.

Now, my ride was just 30 miles and that took 3hours 40 minutes wall clock. That's because
1. I suck.
2. 30 miles is not 30 miles.
3. The map is set to terrain for a reason


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Being that I had never reached the top before, I had to take some pictures as proof. If only as proof to myself.


A Hard Ridden Ethel


The Tour for Woodside had a rest stop there, but I ain't no leech.

And now , to the judges

Today's ride, was unique. The start was pretty damned slow thanks to some "respectable gentlemen" who were driving a construction truck as far right as possible on Ralston. When they did drift left and I tried to squeeze by, they would jerk on over my direction. Let us assume the best possible scenario, which is they saw something ahead and desired my greater safety.... When I reached Stanford and took a shot, the realization came that I would not make any ground assaulting a PR. Too much time had already passed and ti wasn't likely that this time could be magically recaptured.

Did I give up? Heck no!

PR or not, the only way to get better was to keep pressing. Thus being that I needed to ride as if "there is not a moment to lose", I did. Every few lights, I would meet up with a commuter on a mountain bike. They all ride out of saddle and sprint and I struggle to pace them (I suck). Meeting one at a stoplight, a hail was given out praising his speed. During the long light , and exactly as I suspected, it came out that his commute was 7 miles. At this point he admitted the impossibility of keeping such a pace for 26 miles. Such a distraction the idle chat was, that the cycling computer (AKA Dingus to some, watch usually from me) was never consulted. At the second to last stop, one which never recognizes cyclists, a foolish glance hit the watch and I realized that a PR was yet a possibility.

At the bike rack, the watch read 1:43:33.... but it also read 25 miles not 26. Garmin has a fancy pants overpriced website you can submit all of your routes to that will correct GPS errors, but a mile differnce? And I took the same route, did I cut corners?


"And now, the ruling goes to the judges"
Rules for comments to this post:
1. Pick a country and announce yourself as its representing judge. "The Rumanian judge rules that..."
2. If possible, type out in an accent. "Ve have vays of making you tock!"
3. Make a ruling, new PR or not.

Get up and Fight!

The PR of Lazyness continues its attack on the fine and noble people of Beingabetterbikeriderstan. The last week of August our valiant hero took aim at Destroying the PR wherever they could be found. On Wednesday the assault began on the PR at the familiar battleground of "the commute straights" (26.7 miles on average). This battle was one that took our allies in Beingabetterbikeriderstan(from here on out BBR) by suprise. Equipped only with heavier general purpose equipment, Ethel, the will of BBR overcame the challenge and smashed the previous PR installation at 1:45, moving the PR back to 1:40. The important note is that the last position was set with the aid of Lilith, whose light, responsive and nimble frame lends itself to better combat against the PR. On Friday, equiped with Lilith the BBR attacked the PR at the village of "localloopi"(19.2 miles) where the PR were prvisouly installed at 1:20. Gallant work by the people of BBR set the PR back to 1:15.

Attempts in September will face an entrenched an focuesed PR. Already on Monday, a failed attempt on localloopi resulted in 1:18. However, something new occured durni the attempt. A random bike rider had a blowout in front of me. [RIGHT SCUPPERING IN FRONT OF ME]. When he pulled over I asked if he wanted my help fixing it, or if I should try to catch his ride buddy. He asked, with what little breath he had after the scare, for me to try to catch his buddy. For the first time, perhaps ever, I got out of the saddle and sprinted up the hill. A few notes here, this "hill" was just Skyline from Cañada to Bunker Hill the pace was only 5 mph faster than I normally take the hill, and finally, the sprint left me winded for the rest of the way home, what I refer to as the Arse end of Bunker Hill.

I hope to battle the PR at the commute straights Thursday and once again at localloopi on the weekend. The family rides are also getting long enough to warrant measure.

A tighter band of 492 - 577 is not the issue, dude

Its true that I often compare the two gaming groups in which I participate. As with all human creation, they have their faults and moments of shining glory. The most common comparison is about the pacing set by the players, not by the GM but how fast the players choose to do things and how they drive to get them done. The players in the game I run have either a herd behavior of non action, or a frighteningly beautiful push to resolution. Contrast is provided by the game I participate in on Sundays. The Sunday group progresses evenly forward, always trying to keep pace, but never at full bore or overstretched. The difference is perfectly clear in the situation where the two groups are left to choose amongst branches in the plot. The Saturday group will stall and the Sunday group will choose a path. Bereft of choices, the Saturday group will wait for direction and the Sunday group will decide on a direction after some discussion. These differences are believed related , at least in some part, to the personalities and playstyles of the groups. This belief enforced by a mimicking of the Sunday GM's play-style and problem presentation.

The differences are also of character. Not the character of the players but, the characters they play. The Saturday group has some very well crafted characters, mechanically(game) crafted. They are well rounded and capable. The Sunday group plays whatever they fancy, often one dimensional and (game) mechanically challenged. If anything, the effort put into well rounded design by the part of Saturday's group makes life easier for the game master. The color is the defining difference. Ask my Saturday group to name their contacts, goooooood luck. Ask the Sunday group to describe what their character is wearing and Rod help you trying to get them to stop. The Saturday group has some well designed rolls but the Sunday group has some real characters. Knuck Knuck Knuck.

Reflecting upon the players isn't enough, for the world is run by the game master. And of that, I can't give a direct comparison being that I do not play in my own game. There are many game play difference but the core of the matter is mood. What I can tell you is that my Sunday GM is almost invariably happy and alive whereas I am not. Nothing deters him while I enter ready for defeat. If the person running the rest of the game is set for failure, the game is already lost.
When I go to the Sunday game, I expect a great game. Let us assume now that when I expect failure Saturday, it causes a failed Saturday. Then the question has never been about the grass being greener at either game. The question should be "How did you approach the game?". There is a break in play on Saturday and I intend to use that time to come back positive with an adventure worthy of my wonderful players and a great time on my mind. I will do this for three sessions and if in th end fun still eludes me, then perhaps that patch is dead and something else needs to be planted on my Saturday nights.

Therapy of sorts

Mostly a place to work out how to express my ideas. The desire to dive into a subject and explore its complexity does not work for me over instant messenger. The challenge is to learn how to express myself here.