Christmas Day

With the celebration of the birth of our Lord came an ice storm that threatened to dampen the holiday spirit that has been running amok in our household. As I lay in bed and listened to layer upon layer of glistening ice build up on the rooftop I wondered if Santa would be able to firmly land his sleigh safely. I had visions of elfish carnage and reindeer giblets in our backyard while children cried and EMTs sadly did their work. Stunned veterinarians looked on as someone said "we might need to call Mrs. Claus".

Thankfully it was not to be. The same magic that lets Santa get in our house without a chimney also protected him and turned our ice covered roof into something akin to Velcro. I awoke on Christmas morning to a multitude of toys for parents, grandparent, and child alike. With the arrival of the ice storm also came threats of power outages. The irony of this was lost on my wife until I explained to her that all (that’s one hundred percent) of my particular presents  require some form of 120 volt AC power to operate. She proceeded to break down into fits of laughter. Thankfully the same elvish magic that turned my rooftop into a safe landing pad for Santa also saw fit to de-ice the power lines leading from the local substation to my home. By early afternoon I was getting my groove on with the Master Chief.

Without a doubt, I have gravely underestimated the power, abilities, feature set, and flexibility of the X-Box and X-Box Live. I recognized this immediately as I powered on my new console and began setting it up. My best hopes were confirmed by the time I was involved in team vs. team multiplayer Halo 2 action. Sweet sweet mercy. What a game. I’ve also been working my way through the story mode on the first Halo, and it is extremely deep and rich. Finely crafted. Even after three years the game still kicks butt in the graphics and gameplay departments. I’ve been saving story mode on Halo 2 for when I beat Halo. Halo 2 has been exclusively a multiplayer experience so I can get used to the new weapons and gameplay mechanics.

Trying to play a First Person Shooter without a keyboard though has proven to be a bit of a challenge. For the uninitiated, you usually use the WSAD keys on a keyboard to move forward, backwards, strafe left and strafe right. You use the mouse to look around and guide overall direction. Translating this to a joystick involves the use of two joysticks. The left joystick controls your forward, backward, strafe left, and strafe right. The right joystick serves as your "mouse" to look around and guide overall movement/direction. The shoulder buttons serve as your weapons trigger. Trying to get my brain to operate in French instead of English has resulted in me getting pwn3d repeatedly in the multiplayer arenas. Oh well. Once I’ve got the translation out of the way I’ll start reaping the frags.

Adding voice chat over X-Box Live is an… interesting… touch. You can verbally communicate with your teammates or taunt your enemies. However most people don’t really say much, and when they do they are usually total dorks. This should come as no surprise to me given the webcomics I read and how they lampoon this over and over again.

Voice chat traditionally involves broadcasting to your team, or globally to everyone in the match. Halo 2 has refined this somewhat in that you can actually have realistic conversations. For example, if I am standing next to you, you can hear what I have to say. If another player is on the other side of the map, they can’t hear what I am saying to you. Alternately you can still broadcast to your team something like "I’ve got the flag, I need covering and supporting fire so I can get back to our base!" More than once a loudmouthed opponent has given away his position and allowed me to sneak up on him for a frag.

In general, the X-Box is a superior system to my Playstation 2 which I have oft regarded as the pinnacle of modern gaming creation. While still a powerful system, I believe the X-Box has the upper hand in terms of technology, multiplayer implementation, and flexibility. PS2 has a long way to go. The mere utterance of the above statement is enough to ignite massive flame wars in some places so I will stop lest my website be crushed by obnoxious teenagers with nothing better to do than spout jargon such as "y3w  id10t, pl3yst@5hun r0xx0rs xb0xx0r ".

*shudder*

Emma received a bigger bucket load of toys than her father, which is more than appropriate. Papaw got her a new tricycle, and Santa brought her a weebleville town square, a series of blocks that she loves to play with, several toddler jigsaw puzzles, coloring books, clothes, and various other assorted plunder. Mommy walked away with a trove of clothes, an air hockey table (yes, air hockey), gift certificates to Kohl’s and Bath & Body Works, Mario Pinball Land for the Game Boy Advance, and some new jewelry. Papaw received his customary lottery instant win games, a pair of binoculars that you can look at the moon with, and The Bourne Supremacy on DVD (which is fantastic).

Since Christmas, my father has been standing at the back window staring at the fields through his binoculars scouring for Deer or Coyote as they make their way from point A to point B. He was genuinely excited about them as he loves to watch them. His previous set of binocs were nearly 30 years old. As I’ve told Cheryl, if they were eyes one would have a cataract and the other a detached retina. I’ve looked through them myself once or twice now and I am genuinely impressed with their quality. My Dad is extremely hard to buy for so finding something that made him happy and excited was really good.

This Christmas I think we were really firing on all cylinders. It was awesome. Emma was so excited when she saw all her presents and she kept getting overwhelmed. She would see one present, open it up and start playing with it, then see another one, lather / rinse / repeat. By the time we were all done opening gifts she was running around the living room like mad trying to take in all the new toys that were surrounding her. She’d play with one, see another one then jump to it, then try and ride her tricycle, then fall off and see her Weebleville which she had to start playing with.

All in all, Christmas this year was a low-stress and enjoyable family affair. This is how it should be every year. I was filled with hope and happiness for the first time in a long time, and not just because I had five hundred dollars worth of new electronics sitting downstairs in my office. I was filled with peace and contentment over our move to Dad’s place. I was filled with hope and comfort because of my wife being there for me. I was filled with joy because I got to see my little girl’s eyes light up and shine brightly as she got to experience the joy of Christmas morning. I’m looking forward to the changes that the New Year will bring.

For once I’m pretty darned optimistic.

Home

Beautiful decorations, tinsel, Christmas cookies, and a giggling child have been some of the memories I’ve been able to make recently. Christmas is nearly upon us and our house has been a flurry of activity with Cheryl dragging me out for some last-minute Christmas shopping (not without my fair share of protests and whining I assure you). We have finally reached that stage where we can collapse and say "We’re done" and thank God for that. As related previously I’ve about had it up to here (figuratively speaking) with Christmas shopping and Christmas shoppers in general.

I’m finding that this year more than many in recent memory actually feels like Christmas. It’s a wonderful feeling. A happiness I’ve been without for a while.

On that topic, I find that my melancholy moods are getting farther and farther between. This is a good thing as I was thinking that I would need therapy sooner or later. I’ve found that my entries here have been just as much therapeutic as they have been a window into my inner workings for Emma for when she gets older.

A realization hit me earlier this week. A sort of miniature epiphany. It all started when I felt bad for not writing more regularly here than I have been lately. The thought came bubbling up after a few months of mental percolation that I haven’t really been writing here to help Emma understand me (which was my original goal) as much as I’ve been trying to understand myself. I’m sure that in my obtuse way this has been clearer to many of you than it has been to me. I always was a bit slow and pattern recognition has never been my strong suit.

Anywho. Back to Christmas cheer and all that.

The tree is up and all the decorations are out. The house has been smelling like Christmas cookies and feeling like Christmas again. Even Mom’s old cathedral is out and lit up, proudly adorning the top of our entertainment center and casting faint stained glass colors.

For the first time in a long time, I am happy and content in spite of what is going on around us. I feel like I am home again and it feels good.

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T-minus five days and counting until Daddy gets his Halo on. I’m going to be one Master Chief using, lightsaber wielding, airplane flying, race-car driving maniac. I’ve already taken my wife out to dinner and given her some serious quality time recently because come Christmas she is going to experience what I call the “Gamer’s Widow” syndrome. The Gamers Widow syndrome occurs when gamers (like me) obtain new hardware or a newly released game which proceeds to occupy all of our time over the next week or two. This will be a miniature “Gamer’s Widow” event due to the fact that I actually am married now and I really do need to spend time with my wife and kid. Realistically we will be looking at about two to three days of downtime with maybe three to four hour stretches of gaming time here and there during that two to three day period. Once I get the X-Box out of my system, things should relatively be back to normal. I hope anyway.

The Purple Feather

One of my coworkers shared this groaner with me this morning. I felt led to share the pain. Read on if you dare.

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A young man (let’s say he was 8 years old, though history does not specify) was on his way to school one day. As he was strolling merrily along, admiring the beauty of an early spring day, he happened to overhear a couple of slightly older girls talking. The conversation revolved around a purple feather. Now, of course the young man knew what a purple feather was, but in the context of this particular conversation (again, history does not specify the context), the girls could not possibly be referring simply to a feather that was purple. So he stopped and asked them.

"Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation." He was a very polite little boy. "Would you mind telling me what a purple feather is?"

The girls giggled to each other. Then the taller of the two said, "Why don’t you ask your teacher?"

So the boy continued on his way to school. When he got to school, he contained his excitement until recess, which he felt was the proper time to ask a non-school-related question.

"Teacher, I was on my way to school this morning when I heard these two girls talking about a purple feather. I was curious, so I asked them what a purple feather was, and they told me to ask my teacher. Teacher, what’s a purple feather?"

The look on the teacher’s face was one of (if you’ll pardon the expression) shock and awe. When she finally found her voice, she said to the boy, "Young man, you’re going to the principal’s office!"

…

principal (expelled) -> mother (sent to room) -> father (kicked out of house) -> policeman (sent to jail) -> judge (sent to prison for 20 years)

all with lots of explaining of what has happened so far with many repeats of "purple feather."

…

As tends to happen in these stories, twenty years passed. The boy, now a young man, was free. As also tends to happen in these stories, he was still tormented by the question that caused him such trouble twenty years ago. He sat down in a bar to contemplate his ruined youth, and his next move.

The barman approached him. "What can I get….hey, why so glum, pal?"

The young man said, "Twenty years ago, I was on my way to school one day when I heard these two girls talking about a purple feather. I asked them what a purple feather was, and they told me to ask my teacher. I asked my teacher, and she sent me to the principal’s office. I asked the principal, and he expelled me from school! I asked my mom, and she sent me to my room. I asked my dad, and he kicked me out of the house! I asked a policeman, and he threw me in jail. I asked the judge, and he sentenced me to prison for twenty years! It seems to me all of this could have been avoided if someone would’ve just told me what a purple feather was."

The barkeep said, "Man, that’s rough. Have one on the house." He poured a glass of beer for our protagonist. "Tell ya what, buddy. I heard about a purple feather. I can’t say that I know what it is myself, but I heard that the whole story of the purple feather is spelled out just a couple blocks away."

The young man did a spit take. "Really?! Where?"

The bartender said, "Okay, you take a right here on Third, then you take the left fork – that’s Morgan. You go four blocks down Morgan, ’til you get to Crane. Two blocks down Crane, there’s a five-story brown building on the left. That’s an office building. Go to suite 213, and you’ll have your purple feather."

The man was much too excited to finish his beer. He tipped the barman handsomely, and left the bar. He went right on Third. He came to the fork. He took the left fork. He turned on Crane. He could see the five-story brown building two blocks away. He got excited. He began to run. He crossed Oakwood against the light, and was hit by a car. He died on the way to the hospital.

Moral of the Story: Look both ways before you cross the street.

Technical Difficulties

It’s this time of year that I’m especially thankful for the ability to buy things online. My wife tends to roll her eyes at a statement like this because she feels I am cheating myself out of the very essence of the shopping experience. In my clueless, ham-handed, and blundering Mars/Venus way I vaguely try to relate to her the experience of buying things from one or more of ten thousand stores and shoppes in my basement whilst in my hockey PJ’s. This blissful experience is followed up later by the thrill of seeing the UPS man trundle up the driveway to deliver it less than a few days later. It’s like experiencing Christmas over and over again. I think conversations like these are akin to a Frenchman trying to play-by-play a sports program in broken Yiddish to an aphasic Spaniard who would much rather see the game in the stadium instead.

I absolutely loathe shopping at this time of year. Trying to get supplies from Wal-Mart evolves into new and untapped dimensions of stress when trying to wrangle a cart around a bewlidered mother with a brood of piglets noisily stomping their way to the toy section.

*shudder*

That being said, my Christmas shopping is complete. I purchased all of the gifts that I am giving this year online and thus far have only had to venture into stores twice to fetch things. This has been with limited impact and has been to the effect of purchasing them online and only getting far enough into the store to actually retrieve the item from the loading dock and/or service desk.

My wife on the other hand has had the blissful experience of navigating Wal-Mart at high tide and picking out various toys for our niece and nephews. I was more than happy to see her go with her sister while I remained at home warm and snug in my comfy chair.

Given that we were in Canada for Thanksgiving, Cheryl decided that she wanted to stay an extra week so she and Emma could visit with her family. I’m not exactly one to pass up the chance to let her visit her family but this meant that I had to go home without her for a week. This has lead to a rather impromptu "Geek Watch" which has been less than Geeky. With the holidays upon us I’ve spent little time Geeking Out and a lot of time Running Errands. Blech. At least I have my Dad and the Tivo to keep me company this week.

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Lost took a one week hiatus and came back this week with an explosive bang. I don’t think a show has enraptured me like this since the days of The X-Files and Profiler. It’s a show that I’ll actually make time to watch, as opposed to just Tivo-ing it and watching it later. I’ve already got mad ideas about why this island exists and why our frightened travelers are there. I mean, how do polar bears get on a tropical island? How did Locke magically get up and start walking around? Has Jack’s father joined the ranks of the undead and stroll around the island casually? What’s with the French woman and who are "they?" Did Claire’s clairvoyant really know that she was getting on a doomed flight? And what’s with the future of the baby?

Kudos to the writers for taking the attention away from "we are on a neverending quest to get off the island" and shifting the attention to "I want them to stay on the island so I can see what the devil is going on!"

It some kind of survivoresque trip down twin peaks lane with the twilight zone thrown in, that’s for sure.

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My X-Box sits in my bedroom closet singing a siren song to me. I can hear it faintly filtering through the closet doors. It begs me to open the packaging and gently place Halo 2 in the disc tray. It longs to reach out over standard TCP/IP and be played like a finely tuned and crafted instrument, only one of sheer pwn4g3 and d3struct10n. Oh yes my precious. That day is coming. That day of judgment is coming, and right soon.

I’ve made room for it in the batcave downstairs, even going to far as to clean off some shelf space and run some Cat 5 network cabling so all I have to do is plug it in and run. Come Christmas Day the only thing I should have to do is hook it up and Git R’ Done. I’ve manage to secure Halo, Halo 2, Splinter Cell: Pandora Tomorrow, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, Crimson Skies, NCAA Football 2005, Top Spin, and a year of X-Box Live. If that doesn’t keep me going for awhile I think I have issues.

Some might think I have issues anyway. Oh well.