Non-Gaming Stories

I have been bouncing this idea around for the last year or so and given the depravity that comes with catering to the lowest common denominator of our society, I am fairly certain that if I had the know-how (like proficiency in coding and Flash Animation), I could make buckets of money if I were ever to develop this app. I picture a side-scrolling game where the player assumes control of a character that must navigate a path laden with lurking enemies.  These enemies are not goblins, trolls, soldiers from an opposing army or anything of that sort.  The enemy the player would face are BABIES.  Each baby, once defeated, would explode in a shower of confectionery treats like lollipops, candy canes, or hard candies.  These treats are then collected and can be spent on Power-Ups like armor (from medieval to futuristic “Iron Man” suits) or weapons ranging from Giant Mallets and Rubber Band Guns to Smart Bombs. As each level of the game is completed, the Enemy Babies become more pow

I went through a phase a couple years ago where I thought that these would make hilarious window decals. I still think that I'm right.

My Guinea Pig post from the other day got me to thinking about a set of pets from my childhood. I forget how old I was at the time but one year, while my brothers and I were small (I estimate that I was maybe 8 years old), we received hamsters for Christmas. Given the holiday, we chose Yuletide-themed names - Jingles, Jangles, and Noel. Jangles was my hamster. At the end of the first evening, I said "good night" went to bed and by the time I woke up the next morning my hamster had died. Being a young child I was distraught. My parents went back to the store and purchased a replacement hamster. I do not remember the name I gave to Hamster Number Two but it only lasted about a week before passing on to the Great Wheel in the Sky. Hamster #3's name has also been lost to the ravages of time ("Charcoal" sounds like it could be right) but it survived a whole year before dying. I had very limited contact with the animals and I promise that I d

There I was, navigating the nearly abandoned thoroughfares of an all but forgotten mercantile center.  This derelict temple dedicated to American Consumerism had been reduced to a sparse handful of retailers struggling to keep the crumbling edifice alive.  My footfalls echoed off of hard tiles that had been polished to a near mirror sheen by the endless laps of elderly walkers shuffling along like zombies and futile attempts to stave off their own deaths. Window frames filled with dusty glass provided hazy views into the vacant emporiums as I strode by.  A lone bird that had somehow been trapped inside fluttered past - the only other living thing I had seen since entering the ruin. I rounded a corner in the plaza and saw it off in the distance - bolted to the wall, an atavistic feature even in this relic of a shopping center - a pay phone. This anachronistic bygone had been forced into obscurity by its evolutionary descendants and nearly legislated out of existence by

Way back on June 2nd of this year, my wife and I were driving through Missouri . We stopped for gas and Road snacks at the T-Ref Mart in Lathrop. Within, we made a glorious discovery... the T-Rex Chomper. This simple snack is, to the untrained eye, a dill pickle spear wrapped in a slice of ham. We nearly purchased this seemingly divine culinary delight, refraining only when she remembered the Potential Threat of Listeria lunchmeat poses to pregnant women and unborn babies. We spent two and a half months haunted by this decision (especially since we learned that the threat is so small that it barely constitutes a threat at all). We made our own at home with slices of Black Forest Ham, Jalapeños, and Dill or bread and butter pickles but thoughts of the Real T-Rex Chompers continued to taunt us. Until last night... Last night we once again found ourselves at the T-Rex Mart in Lathrop. I picked and purchased a four pack of Chompers. I popped the lid,

I picked up a set of Story Dice at Target for just a buck last Friday night. For those of you who don't know, Story Dice are a set of dice with pictures on them that are used to get a story or conversation started. You roll the dice and then make up a story (a sentence or two is fine) based on the images that appear. This particular set consists of four six-sided dice (4d6) with pictures of various camping-related things, animals, and activities - a tent, a pop-up trailer, trees, a bear, S'mores and so on. Some businesses use them as a tool to teach improved collaboration or as a "warm up" for creative meetings. Me? I encourage nonsensical combinations. For example, a roll of... resulted in... "On a cloudy camping trip, I wrestled a squirrel for S'mores." became, "When I was camping, I took my canoe out to look at the clouds when a pine cone hit me in the head." Then there was

Today while driving, as I watched that long thin ribbon of asphalt trailing off into seeming infinity beneath a broad cloudy expanse of blue sky, I was struck with a sense of just how BIG the world really is and found myself pondering a Great Question of the Age... is the Square Wrap from Holiday just a Pretentious Burrito? Before I delve into the particulars of that question, I feel as though I should tell you that my means of employment and lifestyle in general have resulted in a disproportionate percentage of my nutritional sustenance coming from gas stations. One might even go so far as to say that I am a Gas Station Food Connoisseur. Square Wraps from Holiday are one of my favorite foods - the blending of sausage, cheese, egg, and peppers wrapped in a flour tortilla has Never Failed to satisfy my hunger or bring joy to my tastebuds placing it firmly in the Breakfast of Champions category. But, is it pretentious? Does it have Delusions of Grandeur? A

I originally posted this as a status on Facebook about four years ago and thought I would reshare it with all of you today. Enjoy! - - - - - This morning I woke up, rolled out of bed and began my long slow stagger to the bathroom with my toothbrush in hand.  I opened the door to my room, stepped out and closed it behind me so the cats would not think that I was allowing them in for a visit since my closet is The Most Fascinating Place on Earth as far as cats are concerned. It was a needless gesture because both of the boys, Rapey and Prometheus, were sitting side-by-side in front of the sliding glass door, enraptured by something that was going on outside.  My curiosity was piqued and I paused to join them in their observation. I was treated to a majestic scene transpiring in the backyard, just beyond the chain link fence.  A baby deer, dappled with the white spots of his youth was nursing from his mother.  There was a sense of subdued wonder, warmth in the air, the glowing radia

Monday morning, my wife and I woke up at a rest stop on the western outskirts of Joplin, Missouri. A quick consultation of Google Maps revealed that we were, in theory, about 5 hours from our destination. It also revealed that we were less than five-minutes from the Tri-State Area ! (Oops... I meant this one ). I'm talking about that spot on the map where Missouri, Kansas, and Oklahoma meet. I was excited and thought that this would be a cool thing to see. I also expected that this Particular Point of Geographic Synchronicity to be a Pretty Big Deal. ... ... Turns out, not so much. At the end of what looks like a gravel driveway there is a pile of stones that have been mortared together. Off to one side, there is what looks like a manhole cover. The rock pile had four smooth rectangles where commemorative plaques (most likely) of some sort had once been mounted. Only graffiti remains. I was crestfallen. My wife and I climbed

A gentleman walked up to me as I was working the hotel front desk with a map of what we, here in Minnesota, call the North Shore.  He was curious if we carried any maps of the “South Shore”.  I have never heard anyone ask for a map of the South Shore.  I told him that pretty much any map of Duluth would work for practical purposes and he seemed satisfied with my answer and walked away. But, his question left me unsettled.  He sort of had a point.  If we are the North Shore, then shouldn’t there be a south shore? And really, North Shore of What? Lake Superior? Last time I looked at a map, CANADA was the North (and most of the East) Shore of Lake Superior. At best, we are the West Shore and Wisconsin and Michigan are the South Shore. I get that “West Shore” isn’t likely to evoke the same sense of poetic visualization that “North Shore” does and I understand that we are trying to imply “the section of shoreline of Lake Superior that is

I was passing through a construction area on Barker's Island in Superior, WI earlier this week and noticed that the Road Crew Sign Guy at the far end of the Construction Zone didn't really seem to be paying attention to the Road Crew Sign Guy at MY end of the Construction Zone. I think that he was fiddling with his phone, perhaps with a music app and was, therefore, briefly distracted.  It made me wonder if these distractions were a regular thing. It made me empathize with the Road Crew Sign Guy at MY end of the Construction Zone.  I wondered if he got more and more frustrated as the day wore on. I mean, here he is, coming to work, alert, focused, and determined to protect the lives and ensure the safety of his fellow Road Crew Construction Guys - Jackhammer Guy, the Concrete-Smoothing Guys, Cement Truck Guy, Road Grader Guy, and even the Slacktastic Road Crew Sign Guy who's too busy playing on his phone to pay attention to his JOB! AGAIN!

Things always happen in threes… Celebrities always die in threes… A-B-C, 1-2-3… Peter, Paul, and Mary… The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost… Stop, Drop, and Roll… 3, 5, and 10 (see what I did there?) are psychologically satisfying numbers.   If something doesn’t come in one of those increments, it messes with our heads and while some may argue to include the Number 4 in that list, Chicken McNuggets and the Beatles are not enough to establish a precedent – at least not for me. I have a theory that this psychological need extends to the food we eat.   Take for example, the Cheeseburger.   Available from any number of fast food eateries, it has become ubiquitous with American culture.   They come with a variety of toppings, a wide assortment of breads, cheeses, and different blends of meat.   But let’s say, just for a moment, that you don’t want all of those toppings.   Let’s say that all you want on your burger is pickles.   You plunk down your $3.19, pull up to

I should only rarely be left to my own devices if I have nothing to do. I get bored. And when I get bored, I get…creative.   Normally, this is fine because I carry my notebook with me and write down ideas for assorted things – mostly game-related but also for t-shirts, song parodies, and story ideas.   Today, I am going to tell you about Cheese Waffles . Yes, you read that right. Now, I came up with this idea a few days ago and have been fiddling with the waffle maker at the hotel whenever the opportunity has arisen to refine my concept into a working recipe.   Well…”recipe” might be a strong word since everyone has their own favored way to make waffle batter (or if they don’t they should and this note is not going to delve into that particular topic at this time but I will say, adding melted butter to the mix ahead of time helps prevent sticking and, in my opinion, improves the taste of the waffle). The first thing you are going to want to do is turn on your waffle ir

My wife is in the National Guard and this weekend was one of those "one weekend per month and two weeks per year" weekends. I never know what to do with myself when she is away. I am proud that she has decided to serve and, from my time in the military, I know all about "needs of the command" and understand that commitment to duty that accompanies the oath of service. Understanding does not make these weekends any easier and I miss her terribly when she is away. Friday morning, I dropped her off at her command and settled in to wait. I needed to find a way to kill some time so I decided to explore the area. Signs indicating the presence of a nearby park drew my attention and after following them, I found myself at Belle Prairie County Park just outside of Little Falls, MN. The road through the park, for the most part is single-lane asphalt and in good repair. There were exceedingly few potholes and almost no debris to impede travel. I followed the loo