My dad wasn't around a whole lot when I was young. As a kid, it was just the way things were. Dad would wake us up for school as he headed out the door; and was usually home for dinnertime. As I got older, it was less noticeable...and if he wasn't home in the evenings, he either got hung up on a service call or because there was a fire or ambulance run he had to go on. And even if the service calls were annoying, the other was okay, because he was helping people.
That was always a source of pride for me. Not only was my dad a fireman, he was an EMT, too. Yeah, he was a mechanic -- and a damn good one, judging by the customers that followed him the few times he changed companies -- and he would eventually let his EMT certification slip for reasons that were his own, but there's still a set of bunker gear in the back of his truck, in case his pager goes off.
A lot of who I am, I owe to my father. Not just the opportunities his hard work afforded me, and not just the things he tried to teach me.There are mannerisms that I've picked up over the years, from giving long-winded explanations to never answering an obvious question without trying to get the person to work it out for themselves. Dropping his voice when he was frustrated instead of raising it. Trying to find the causes for a problem instead of treating the symptoms.
And then there are the things I picked up from watching how he acted. The times he would give people second chances, and the reasons when he wouldn't. The way he never seemed to get angry -- upset and frustrated, yes; but very rarely angry -- unless someone was going to hurt another person. The importance of keeping promises, even implicit ones.
I think that last one is something that gets me in trouble some days; or at least keeps my mouth shut. So, if you really want to know...
Prayer in Schools
I'm all for prayer in schools. But I'm also dead set against the faculty and staff deciding which god (or, if you rather, which version of God) to pray to. And while that's a good part of my reasoning behind it (would you be for prayer in school if you knew that on Wednesdays, your kid would be praying to Hermes at the start of the Public Speaking class?), it really comes down to the basic "give you the answer" vs. "give you the tools to figure it out" debate. That said, as long as there's a belief that it will give them some sort of edge, there will always be prayer in school. Private prayer, between the child and their god; as it should be.
Pledge of Allegiance
When all is said and done; two of the few things it is truly fair to judge someone by are the promises they've made, and the promises they've kept.
Without even getting into the history of the flag salute, or the McCarthy-era changes to it; the Pledge of Allegiance always bothered me growing up. It never felt patriotic, just vaguely disturbing; and that was before we learned what the words actually meant. Why "pledge", and not "give my", "swear", or just plain "promise"? And why "allegiance"? Why swear to the flag first, instead of the nation; and why to the nation instead of the people, or even the ideals? These questions bothered me. And maybe I thought about it too hard; maybe I should have just stood and said the words like everybody else. But the thought of doing that bothered me to; that was making a promise that I didn't really mean. Not that I wouldn't keep it, but without really understanding what you were saying -- and really, what K-4th grader really understands what allegiance is? -- it's just rote memorization. Which is good for multiplication tables, not so much for ideology.
It's the kind of thing that makes me cringe/laugh when I hear the phrase "liberal indoctrination" used in relation to schools; in a "pot, meet kettle" sort of way.
I guess my point is that it's not about trying not to offend other people. But it's not about going out of your way to try to offend them, either. A little consideration is all that you really need, the realization that not everyone thinks or believes the same things that you do.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Super Mario 3D Land
There are very few things that can make me ragequit so hard I don't want get back in and replay the game. Insane difficulty isn't that big of a deal; awkward controls can be overcome; bad camera angles can be compensated for. But I've noticed one thing that sets me off.
Collection quests, or rather, unexpectedly needing to complete a collection quest. Now, I'm not talking about the old MMORPG grind where you've got to get so many of that odd drop from a hard-to-get-to enemy; that's something different. Let me explain.
I haven't played a Mario platformer in quite a while, I'll admit. Although I do like the genre, it's not my favorite, and if I have the time to play, I'll probably pop in a JRPG instead. But since I haven't had the chance to try out many of the new games for the 3DS, I thought I'd move Super Mario 3D Land up to the top of my rental list. Now, part of this may have been the fact that you don't get the booklet with a rental; but I really didn't feel the need to search out every Star Coin on every level. And yes, I did notice that on the course select screens some of the levels required you have a certain number of the Star Coins to play them. The majority of those, however, could be skipped. I didn't, because I always had enough.
Until the end of World 5. What had been optional became mandatory, and to enter the castle -- and keep playing the game -- I would have had to go back and find 50 of the damn Star Coins. What I thought was a side quest was now the main mission; with no foreshadowing. If you would have had to collect 10 coins in each world to proceed, I wouldn't have minded. It would have even made sense in what little story there was. But to show up as a condition to continue halfway through the game was a bit more than I was willing to take.
That said, getting to most of the Star Coins is fun and challenging; though experienced platform gamers shouldn't have a problem with it. Heck, I don't play platformers that often and other than the 3D perspective being a bit tricky in places (tip: watch the shadows), I wasn't having that much difficulty with the game. But that one design choice just ticked me off to no end.
Graphics are bright and cheerful, exactly what you'd expect from a Mario game, and the classic enemy designs still translate well to 3D models. All in all, it's probably a game I would mark as a keeper, and from the Black Friday numbers, a lot of people are thinking it is a console-seller. I can't disagree: it makes use of the hardware. The 3D effects are well done but not cheesy; and there are sequences that make use of moving the 3DS to get a better view of the stage, which I assume uses the front-facing camera to track location. It's a solid title, and I think a good addition to the Mario library of games.
Collection quests, or rather, unexpectedly needing to complete a collection quest. Now, I'm not talking about the old MMORPG grind where you've got to get so many of that odd drop from a hard-to-get-to enemy; that's something different. Let me explain.
I haven't played a Mario platformer in quite a while, I'll admit. Although I do like the genre, it's not my favorite, and if I have the time to play, I'll probably pop in a JRPG instead. But since I haven't had the chance to try out many of the new games for the 3DS, I thought I'd move Super Mario 3D Land up to the top of my rental list. Now, part of this may have been the fact that you don't get the booklet with a rental; but I really didn't feel the need to search out every Star Coin on every level. And yes, I did notice that on the course select screens some of the levels required you have a certain number of the Star Coins to play them. The majority of those, however, could be skipped. I didn't, because I always had enough.
Until the end of World 5. What had been optional became mandatory, and to enter the castle -- and keep playing the game -- I would have had to go back and find 50 of the damn Star Coins. What I thought was a side quest was now the main mission; with no foreshadowing. If you would have had to collect 10 coins in each world to proceed, I wouldn't have minded. It would have even made sense in what little story there was. But to show up as a condition to continue halfway through the game was a bit more than I was willing to take.
That said, getting to most of the Star Coins is fun and challenging; though experienced platform gamers shouldn't have a problem with it. Heck, I don't play platformers that often and other than the 3D perspective being a bit tricky in places (tip: watch the shadows), I wasn't having that much difficulty with the game. But that one design choice just ticked me off to no end.
Graphics are bright and cheerful, exactly what you'd expect from a Mario game, and the classic enemy designs still translate well to 3D models. All in all, it's probably a game I would mark as a keeper, and from the Black Friday numbers, a lot of people are thinking it is a console-seller. I can't disagree: it makes use of the hardware. The 3D effects are well done but not cheesy; and there are sequences that make use of moving the 3DS to get a better view of the stage, which I assume uses the front-facing camera to track location. It's a solid title, and I think a good addition to the Mario library of games.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Feeling My Age
Every day I look in the mirror. Thanks to a combination of time, a high-stress job, and said teenage daughter; there's a little less black on top of my head and a little less brown in my beard. And no matter how many times I change the lights above the bathroom mirror, there's a little more gray there every day. The lines around my mouth and eyes are a little more pronounced. There's a little more of my grandfather in the mirror when I look, too. Not my dad; instead of turning his hair gray, apparently us kids just made him tear it out. But every time I look it's the same story.
I look old.
Tomorrow afternoon, my daughter will (hopefully) play in her first junior high basketball game. She's an 8th grader; 13 years old this year. In 9 months, she'll be a high school Freshman.
I feel old.
I regret that I'm not going to be able to make it to all of her ball games. Between my working nights and my wife working a few towns over (which requires taking our one vehicle), it's a bit tricky to get me to any of the out of town matches. But every home game, I'll be there in the stands. I will say that it helps that she's on the JV team, which means she'll play at 4:00 most days instead of "maybe around 6, depending on if the early games run late, or finish early."
I don't know if she'll get to play. I don't even know if she's any good; at a small school like ours, every warm body that tries out for the team gets on -- playing time is a different story, but everybody makes the team. But I don't care. I will be there, in the stands; every chance I get.
And I will try not to be *that* dad. You know the one I mean. The dad who, even at a Junior High Junior Varsity game is riding the refs and the coach like he's at an NBA game. The dad who jockeys for more playing time for his kid, regardless of how good the kid actually is. The dad who "encourages" by doing the coach's job for them; who berates his kid for every missed shot and errant pass instead of asking "Did Coach tell you what you need to do to get better?" and "You gonna do it?" then leaving it at that.
My daughter could practice her jump shot from now until she graduates, and she still probably won't be the next Jackie Stiles (the former WNBA All-Star who played basketball in our league when I was in high school). And as far as I'm concerned, that's fine. She doesn't need to be. As long as she's having fun, keeping her grades up, and doing the best she can every time she steps on the court, there will be a proud old man sitting up in the stands.
I look old.
Tomorrow afternoon, my daughter will (hopefully) play in her first junior high basketball game. She's an 8th grader; 13 years old this year. In 9 months, she'll be a high school Freshman.
I feel old.
I regret that I'm not going to be able to make it to all of her ball games. Between my working nights and my wife working a few towns over (which requires taking our one vehicle), it's a bit tricky to get me to any of the out of town matches. But every home game, I'll be there in the stands. I will say that it helps that she's on the JV team, which means she'll play at 4:00 most days instead of "maybe around 6, depending on if the early games run late, or finish early."
I don't know if she'll get to play. I don't even know if she's any good; at a small school like ours, every warm body that tries out for the team gets on -- playing time is a different story, but everybody makes the team. But I don't care. I will be there, in the stands; every chance I get.
And I will try not to be *that* dad. You know the one I mean. The dad who, even at a Junior High Junior Varsity game is riding the refs and the coach like he's at an NBA game. The dad who jockeys for more playing time for his kid, regardless of how good the kid actually is. The dad who "encourages" by doing the coach's job for them; who berates his kid for every missed shot and errant pass instead of asking "Did Coach tell you what you need to do to get better?" and "You gonna do it?" then leaving it at that.
My daughter could practice her jump shot from now until she graduates, and she still probably won't be the next Jackie Stiles (the former WNBA All-Star who played basketball in our league when I was in high school). And as far as I'm concerned, that's fine. She doesn't need to be. As long as she's having fun, keeping her grades up, and doing the best she can every time she steps on the court, there will be a proud old man sitting up in the stands.
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