Non-Gaming Stories

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...

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 o...

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...