Smoldering Parts, No BBQ pt. 5: Dying Embers

Monday morning came orderly enough. I woke up at 7 am and forced myself into fitful naps until 10:30 or so. Spent most of the last 30 minutes of our allotted time in the hotel 3-S'ing and packing up crap. Had a sandwich with the wife and then went to get the car ready for loading. Said goodbye to Dr Nik and Hrothgar, both heading out to other vacation endeavors. Dr Nik is helping us getting prepared for GenCon and David gave us some free greeting cards with his water colors on them and started the drive home.

Even four hours later, I couldn't stop being happy. And when we got home, I noticed on the FacetuBe, that everyone else was agreeing. Not a bad hoot at all. Not bad at all.

This Hoot was sponsored by Game Soapbox Productions,  Peryton Publishing, Panik Productions, Christine Crabb Private Editorial Services and Asian World Imports. With special mentions to Trollish Delver games and aspiring author Mark Thorton.

 

Smoldering Parts, No BBQ pt. 4: Okay, There Was BBQ

Sunday morning, I got to torture Dr. Nik by insisting that we "walk and talk" over to the gas station, I was out of beer, while he was suffering from blisters on his feet. Okay I didn't know he had the blisters, and the guy is too tough to admit it when he is suffering. Still had I known, what a feat that would've been.

I ran my game "Fever Dream" that afternoon. And what I thought would be a clever twist, turned out to be a typical run-of-the-mill CoC adventure. You see, after doing years of very pre-scripted story lines with developed character roles for the PCs; I keep thinking puling a bait and switch will show me as a brilliant GM. I forget that, only five people in the world have played enough in my games to get it. So my "take them unawares" approached impressed no one except me. Where I had three stratagems to get the players whether they tried to stay and fight, run away or something in-between; the players themselves just perceived that this was a "No one gets out alive" scenario. While they were wondering what exactly it was their overly detailed characters were doing there, I should add. Same thing happened back with "In the Midnight Hour" at GenCon in 2010.

Sometimes it's just me and Trigger.

An impromptu dinner at Tuly's with a rather unexpected crowded table, including someone who refused to come earlier (Dr Watt!), was quite fun. Jimmy and I got to show the two sides of Catholic culture for anyone not living in the middle ages. And Hrothgar caught the tab!

While others slipped into Dr Nik's impromptu game downstairs, all the Trollhallan fellows and dames in attendance (myself, Peryton, Hrothgar and CCrabb) tried out Dark Harvest with his story "Styrgoi." I was too tired to be the tactician of yet another player group of "girls," which I forcefully, and without asking, assumed in Dr Nik's "Abyss" and do so often in other games, so I just played a pompous ass of an Austrian aristocrat from 1880, though it was 1910. Chrissi and Robin did fine doing all the real work while I chased, err had others chase skulls-head moths. I did provide an awesome soundtrack as well.

Now this after party was legendary. Even Peryton and Hrothgar showed up for the final night of festivities at the Kruppa's emporium of decadence and delight. Well enough, when we walked in there were heads being chopped off, always a decent start to an ending. Liquor was getting in short supply by 3am, so I mugged Jimmy and left Andre one last swallow of cognac, while Hrothgar, CCrabb and myself forced the Kruppa into a bout of singing classic rock songs and "What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor."

I stumbled into the room at 5:05am, and Peryton, beating me to the punch, applauded me for my rendition of "Drunken Sailor."

Smoldering Parts, No BBQ pt. 3: Bonfire of the Vanities

To use an often used quote after dinner, we proclaimed "let the games begin," and so they did.

I am the one with the big hair and having monkey sex on the scooter.

I jumped in on Dr. Nik's game with Peryton, Nissi and CCrabb. I should've known better, as this doctor is always a favorite of the ladies, his "Abyss of Insanity" had only female characters in a Foxy Five Fire-Team (re. Kill Bill's Deadly Vipers sort of way). Toe Head (Ray Hickey) had cancelled his Beer Bellies and Bathrobes, much more my style, LARP session, so I had to stick around. Despite everyone wanting me to play the 250 pound Helga, err Maria leader figurine, I went with the miniature that reminded me most of Uma Thurman. A nice mix of The Spy Spy Who Loved Me and Aliens Versus Predators. Nik's pacing and ability to shift gears when the genres shifted rather amazed me.

Afterward the traditional after-party began in earnest in the Kruppa's suite. I kept everyone that I could around about 5:30a. Dr. Watt and Jimmy stuck around as well.  After chasing down Dr. Watt down the hall for a hug that never happened, I stumbled into our own suite and regaled Peryton with tales of my exploits, since she had missed them all by going to sleep three many hours earlier. I was surprised when she didn't take notes.

The next day, WE FOUND THE GROCERY STORE thanks to Dr Watt's directions from Jimmy's "finder thingy." I spent the trip getting to know the kids, Nissi and Toe Head, and keeping an eye on CCrabb, who just drank way too much the night before, so she needed my protective moral oversight. Actually I just had my keys in my hands when someone asked about who was driving.

Peryton's "Any Port In a Storm" starting that afternoon did nothing but reaffirm that she has only married me for my Pyramid-Heads and Sewer Monkeys, now named Spider Apes. For a CoC adventure it was quite Dr. Who-ish, and her already swollen head just bigger when everybody (Dr Nik, Dr Watt, and Hrothgar) loved it.

Okay I am lying. There was barbeque over the weekend. Dr Watt took a handful of us to Dinosaur BBQ. Pery and I had been there once before, oddly enough on the home from Carnage the first time. And to quote, maybe paraphrase because I'm never paying that much attention, Tyler, "The only good reason to be in this dismal town." I am sure he meant the "second" but why quibble? I had something called a Pork Porto, which rocked. I think Dr Watt had something called "the heart attack special with mac and cheese" or some-such. Really there was like three kinds of beef and plenty more.

 

"The Vault" was the Kruppa's evening presentation, and I prepared myself for the Homeric voyage into the underworld that had become his suite. Jimmy, Daniel Williams, impressed me greatly. Not just for his expansive knowledge of lineages of most nobility and Catholic personages, as well obscure folkloric persona in English history. The man had me sympathizing with his double-murder/suicide of his wife and then his sister. Maybe it was more about someone else wanting to to shoot Peryton, who played his sister, besides me. That said, this scenario if anyone wants to do a Kruppa scenario, I cannot recommend this one enough. There is some great Andre Kruppa acting, complete with lighting and sound, to just sit back and watch. And I got away with the gold.

This after party ended early, at 3:30am or so. I suddenly started thinking in German and knew it was time to get some sleep.

Smoldering Parts, No BBQ pt. 2: The Hole Is Dug

Well actually before we headed out of town, the neighbor's Puerto Rican cooking got Peryton and I hungry for Colorado sauce. So we stopped off for some Mexican and a beer for me, because I had been a good boy and done some house cleaning while the woman was at the job. Then we got going.

The drive through east Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York to Syracuse, err the Syracuse area is very familiar. We amuse ourselves with waiting for the awesomely-named reference points. Vrooman Road exit, come on folks, "Vrooooom Man!" There is a humungous stone quarry just west of Buffalo where "a whole season of Doctor Who could be shot" according to Peryton. And my favorite town's name in all of NY "Gowanda," I get gushing about Pangaea, Edgar Rice Burroughs and Rachel Welch right about then, for no reason but that it sounds like Gondwanaland. Then there is my everlasting discussion as to who is a better songwriter Paul McCartney or John Lennon to finish the rest of the trip-- Pery just loves that one.

We got to the Maplewood Inn at 10:30pm or so, and CCrabb and the Kruppa were already there. We checked in, with some hiccups caused by an over-zealous desk clerk (isn't that always how it goes?), and walked over to Tuly's for a late dinner. Godsheads, seeing friends again after months, sometimes a year, is about the most wonderful thing about these hoots. We ended up back in the Kruppa's room, before the black plastic went over the windows and body parts were hung. We drank vodka from a skull to desecrate, err celebrate the lovely site we had chosen. And with that A Dark Gathering had begun.

Friday morning was spent by me blithely driving all over the Syracuse metroplex and not finding a single grocery store after 30 minutes. CCrabb and Hrothgar were in the car enjoying the scenic route through slums, then the trendy district and then some suburb where they live off the shallow lake they build their houses next to and therefore don't need anything larger than a large convenience store/ gas station. With that we gave up, and headed back for the yarn that would get things started, Hrothgar's spooky T&T tale entitled "Compound Interest." The man crafted a wonderful game as well as great mystery off the top of his head and a couple words from the audience just to show me up. By the end of it, Dr. Watt and followed by Dr. Nik made their presences known to us. And once people got their breaths, we collected Jimmy for dinner.  There Nissi and Toe Head appeared after a hard day of rolling bums at the bus station, and ready for some gaming. Finally the Kruppa arrived before Jimmy or I could order a $33 steak and bill it to his room.

Smoldering Parts, No BBQ pt. 1: The Kindle

I have to admit, I was worried as to how the latest hoot was going to work out.

Back in November Andre Kruppa, GM extraordinaire, who shall be referred as the The Kruppa from here on, mentioned to me "I'd like to do one of your 'hoot' things." Now this was said with his New Englander-Maine accent which sounded more like "Ahw'd lyk to do uhn ov yer HEHUWT tings," that accent just brings so much joy and mirth-filled thinking into my life. We had been drinking; but the following morning we were still speaking of it. On the way home from Carnage, while dropping off Monk and K-Bell at the Syracuse New York, I saw the Maplewood Inn, and did some digging around there. So about a week later, we formed the CthulHoot FacetuBe group to get things rolling, no one liked my "KruppaHoot" suggestion. By "we" I mean the Kruppa, Peryton, CCrabb and myself.

Now PeryPubbers know from doing these things for about half a decade, never to expect too much. You pick an off weekend, some place in-between you and the friends expected to arrive and then wait for the four to eight people to show up out of the twelve to 900 that were in invited. Now CCrabb and the Kruppa are convention organizers, which speak a similar language but still a different language than Hooter. And when you give CCrabb details to mull over, she loves to roll up her sleeves and get down to the job of worrying about them.

There were some daunting details to definitely be looking at. This hoot was going to take place some six to ten hours away for just the organizers. Who did we know were those close enough or committed to Off-the-Wall goofiness enough to show up? What weekend would be best? Could we get room discounts and with what sort of contract obligations?  What should we call it?  The concerns were addressed and coping strategies developed, through no small part of CCrabb's work. Again no one liked my suggestion of "The KruppaHoot." Suddenly,  "bam!," invites for "A Dark Gathering" event, scheduled over this last Memorial Day weekend, were sent out.

Over the rest of the next three months, squalls of dismay would continue to arise. The fulfillment of a certain number of room reservations, required to get our room discounts. A lack of response by many who would be closer than others, requiring more painstakingly discussed invitations. And a definite lack of energy because of post-convention fatigue from other more formal events throughout that time causing forlorn statements at the Cthulhoot page began to worry me about anybody else wanting to come. Though I knew CCrabb would be there, the rooms were in her name, so I knew there would be four of us, the Kruppa nor the PeryPub household would ever leave The Editor, OUR editor, stranded-- and in Hoot history, that could still be a successful get-together. The at the Gathering page people started... well, gathering. Namely Tyler (Dr Watt) and Dr Nik of Carnage fame were the first. Elder Tunnels contributor and Trollhalla fellow David Crowell, Hrothgar, decided to show up. And then Nyssa Schmidt, Nissi, and Ray Hickey, Toe Head, confirmed as well. Somewhere in there Dan William (Jimmy from now on) signed on as well, I dunno when, I wasn't paying attention.

My count was that eight people were coming while CCrabb knew that 10 of us had confirmed, which works fine in my mind. That's a lot of Hooters in one area that none of them is from. Still CCrabb had to have something to worry about, so she decided that the Kruppa's scheduled games would conflict grievously with my single slotted game. Godshead bless the woman, I love her, but homicidal thoughts came to my mind. Someone in the PeryPub household finally got exasperated about even going, though she won't admit it, her nickname rhymes with "peryton." Truth be told, I knew she was exaggerating.

Still on that note, we got into the car on Thursday evening and headed to Syracuse, NY. Liverpool actually, but who's reading a map right now?

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Fantasy Movies Are Supposed To Be Bad, Yet Again

Just watched John Carter Warlord of Mars at the movie theater. It was nice to have an excuse to go to the theater. And having read more than a couple of the books back when I was in third and fourth grade, I have been waiting for this video game blockbuster since Gladiator. Now that I've seen both a decent Batman movie (two no less) AND the Warlord of Mars on the silver screen, the world can end this upcoming December. If only I'd have lived long enough to see religious Star Wars fans commit mass suicide and George Lucas exposed for college age plagiarism.



I liked it, and would rate it a King Kong on a "Godzilla to Smurf" scale. Of course, I may always downgrade the movie later, as I have done with the LotR series over the years. You just never know when your frontal lobe will find something cliche and unbearable, at least in my mildly schizophrenic case-- Tuesdays can get so boring speaking to yourself in your own head!

I was really worried about the casting, I am getting tired of Scorpion King remakes, but the cast worked well for me. Thomas Kitsch, with a self conscious stage name like that, I shouldn't be thinking he'll be going cliche while selling out too soon. The man did a good job as John Carter, by the end of the movie, I felt he was channeling the character from the books rather well. Willem Dafoe as Tars Tarkas worked nicely, though all they needed to do was give him some fake arms and tusk, instead of a CGI body to make him look like a Green Martian. Lynn Collins had just enough cleavage showing to get the JCM-Old Schooler like me paying attention-- and she made a good scientist-warrior as well. Sola, Samantha Morton, is downright intriguing.

The 21st century additions to the story worked out for me. Hey the wife and kids are a part of the movie watching for adults, get over it "High Fantasy" fans. The animals of Barsoom, including Woola, were a part of the tapestry of the books. The "Heroic Despite Himself Would-be Anarchist" story-arc for Carter helped out the romance, which was the point of the novel The Princess of Mars, as well ecological destruction by overly zealous industrialists. The twisting plot back on Earth was nicely done. It gets rather Sherlock Holmesian towards the conclusion, yet still the Hollywood writers didn't diverge from book too far. Let me note, that when it comes to Burroughs, being wholly Hollywood is not a bad thing. The hometown of the author renamed itself to Tarzana, after his Tarzan series of stories.

My criticisms of this take are minimal. One is that the story went too many places. Part of the wonderment of Barsoom is wondering what will Edgar Rice Burroughs show you next novel, or short story. The gold martians and the white martians appear later in the series, as well as mentions of the Thern. And the uniquely Martian take on astrology, Barsoom means "8th Planet" after all, is missing. I think this would've given the movie a bit more authentic, as well as trippy, feel.

The only problem I have with this version is that I believe Disney bought out the rights to the John Carter material. This means too much marketing and not enough re-takes on the tales. Here's to the Disney sequels then... don't let Peter Jackson anywhere near them.





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A Weekend for Awesome Uber Overlords, Elvismas 2012.

The west of the Miami River Holler, Illinois-ese, for Hoot, did materialize this last weekend, even if the folks from Illinois that the event was placed for couldn't make it. No "Awesome Overlord" admission badges for anyone; though, Scott, Sligo, and I were still the Awesome Uber Overlord's of the event so there was no going back. And this Birthday trip had a lot of serendipitous elements to it that made this Elvismas rather magical.

Jordan, hence forth known as Batman, instead of Bruce Wayne, reminded me the evening before the drive in Indianapolis that we would be staying at his house, not the Red Roof Inn. I was busy with homework, so I figured I'd just call everyone in the AM. We didn't leave the house until 1am. But the drive from Cleveland to Indiana that Friday morning was a little bit of fun. The roads were clear except for a couple truckers and us. Once we passed Columbus, I had a great view of the waxing moon and Orion in the western portion of the winter sky. Luckily Pery was napping, though she'll deny it, despite her snoring, because I'd shut off the headlights for up to 30 seconds to just soak in the view. We arrived in Indy and at Batman's house a little past 6am, I forced everyone into a root beer while I had a beer and we got caught up a bit before napping some.

After a bit of sleep, I was able to divert Trevor, Tre-Pod, to Batman's house instead of the motel. Alas JerryTel, ever the imposing sort, insisted on remaining at there. Sligo and I chatted via text messages for the early afternoon, while her majesty, Pery woke up and made herself presentable, Batman went for a run and Tre-Pod took a nap. The Arsenal's shifting opening time indicated that events would begin in the evening. During this time I noticed Batman's next door neighbors were Arsenal, the soccer team, fans. How awesome!

At the Arsenal, I can't say enough how impressed I am with the place. Between the well maintained appearance of the place, the functional kitchen, and the conference areas, this frugal, but not cheap-minded, enterprise shines among adventure gaming oases. Bill and his staff have high standards and it really shows. I hope to have many years of association with the joint. Counting up the attendees, the game festival idea just wasn't going to happen. So a Hoot, err Holler was. Upon revising the list of what was going to be ran, Sligo, Pery and Tre-Pod had play-testing events, so things were going to turn into GM workshop. JerryTel decided to stick to his "Game of Thrones" D20 scenario, leaving his first attempt at T&T for a later time. I challenged all the collected GMs to a die roll off for the first slot, which Tre-Pod took up. I won the roll and the first slot was mine. So I humbly pulled out my notes, inside a PDA, for "Journey Through A Strange Vale" and got started.

AND IT WENT AWESOME. Not saying there weren't glitches, like in the combat math (the second time in within three months, dammit), but overall it went well and I enjoyed myself immensely. Even when Batman had to get up and leave for a "few minutes," Jo-Jo, Sligo's friend wandered in a minute later and took over that PC until his friend showed up-- Just as Jo-Jo had to leave Batman showed back up, amazing. Kerry, called Wanderer from here on, a regular from Sligo's T&T group, proved my old adage "presence is like hair, better to have too much than too little. The actor can always get a haircut to fit the director's role in mind." He was good at providing leads for me to play off of, even if I had to tell him to let me run my NPCs and my own plot. The pacing of the scenario was pitch perfect though, and a couple spiffy tricks I came up with worked very well. When the group got to the "Strange Valley" my deadliness was effective but not unfair, and my major monster was fun to play and lead to some very good scenes. I played with the FBI Origin's 2011 card deck as a 'divine intervention' piece, basically any dead PC had to play Charon at a hand of Five Card Draw and win to somehow miraculously survive death. With that we concluded the first night of "InConTroll."

The following morning was a little hectic, but we found a rather fancy Mexican restaurant in an old Church that had some great grub and spent time with Batman and Colts Gal and her friends. Tre-Pod wasn't impressed, and I was stressed out because we ended up late for the noon game. By 1 pm though, we were developing characters for ND-RPG (No Dice RPG), Sligo's card deck based experiment. The scenario was just designed for mechanics-checking, though I am flattered that Sligo felt the need for a reason for our characters to be together, ie a role-playing premise. We the PCs were walking along a sidewalk, a hole appears and the scenario started from there. The rules worked well enough, and the opposition resolution isn't just playing gin rummy or poker, so there is something there. My own feedback was concerned with the character sheet, while others pointed to this or fact rules functionality or specific.

The Walk the Spiral (RobinHoo) scenario had everyone scared, seriously scared. Perhaps it was the start were everyone had was a pre-generated character, that knew everyone else in the party as a character in a FRPG campaign, but now were people from real life, who did not know each other. Maybe it was rather the surreal setting where time seemed to mixed up. A bit of over-reaction and being overly cautious kept things at a snail's pace for a while. I finally just got over it. Remembering that Pery wants to resolve this campaign and probably had not designed a Doom 1st-person shooter scenario so common among amnesia Lost-like plots, where the scriptwriter is pretty much making it up from session to session. Maybe following my lead, if misunderstanding the difference between a clue and threat, Tre-Pod, Sligo and Wandering began to act irrational, running from harmless encounters to calling out and waving to people with strange items attached to their belts or in their hands. JerryTel was looking furtively around still being very, very quiet. Because of the slow start, the ending was rather hurried. Oddly enough no character was killed.

Tre-Pod's Saturday night game suffered the fate of all Hoot's "the last Saturday night game," everyone ran amok. At least no one fell asleep like last June. I became the "I Just Did 1 Million Hit Points" Guy. Though I derailed the plot, my experience points were awesome. Dude, I killed Quetzalcoatl. Almost everyone else followed suit and helped me cover my blood-stained hands from there. It didn't end pretty.

At the closure of the night's gaming, Colts Gal and a friend, Batman, Pery, and Tre-Pod treated me with a pubcrawl around the Fountain Square neighborhood. It was a great night.

Sunday came too early for some, and too late for others. JerryTel cancelled his slotted Sunday game, having been left to his own means at the Red Roof Inn and could not take isolation from his fair and beloved pastures and rolling hills of Toledo. I personally think he was too overwhelmed by all the Awesome Uber Overlord GMs he saw over the past couple of days, myself, but that's just a theory. Tre-Pod we left in bed as the revelry from the night before was proving to be a little too much for him to find his glassed let alone consciousness. Sligo offered to step up with a T&T game, but decided to switch it out with his arena-style board game in development. Batman loved the game. Pery was impressed and I have to say that even the prototype looks great.

Wrapping up the playtest after two matches, at my insistence, we had a parting meal with Wanderer, Sligo and Batman once again on the Fountain Square. Batman took the longest way he could to get home, not wanting Pery and me to leave. Though it is flattering, I was in a state of near exhaustive panic at being so late.

On the way home, I responded to a volley of Happy Birthday calls and a called a couple texters. Tre-Pod texted to let me know he was home and fully functional. So getting home at 11:30, Pery and I decompressed just a little before bed. I was an Awesome Uber Overlord this Elvismas, that takes some transition when slipping back into reality.

Moby Dick and Call of Cthulhu

I happened to be thinking of a contemporary political comparison today when one of the collections of H.P. Lovercraft fell from the bookshelf, thanks to a cat. And that got me comparing the two works instead, mostly because the political one wasn't going anywhere.

It occurs to me that Cthulhu might've been Lovecraft's take on Moby Dick. In my own mind, I do not see his collected works as the works of a master, but as masterful work of a writer finding his voice. Once again, to me, he was something of a modernist to begin with. Though his language was rather romantic, he wrote of prevalent views going on around him, without being overly topical. Lovecraft ascribed a certain amount of technical detail to the nuts and bolts going on in his work-- from radios with microphones and receivers, to submarines, to gas masks.

Lovecraft did try for emulation of earlier authors, such as Edgar Allen Poe, Ambrose Bierce and Arthur Machen. The writers of "weird fiction" between the wars were prone to playing with each other, why shouldn't they borrow, err work from more widely known works such as The Scarlett Letter or say, I dunno, Moby Dick?

What is uniquely Lovecraftian though is HPL's angle. Instead of the reader being inspired with images of adventure and wanting to meet diverse and non-Christian cultures, the reader is supposed to know that going to the South Pacific, let alone anywhere in a boat, is dangerous. Ironically, while Moby Dick can be said to inspire people to read the Bible while considering the debate of god-worship and atheism, "The Call of Cthulhu" assumes that everyone pretty much avoids the discussion of religion and skirts sideways into superstition and cults.

2012, If Not the End of Time.

Over the past week, I keep hearing about how bad 2011 was. And all I am hearing is slaves singing songs over Saturnalia about the worldview of someone else. Granted I _LIKE_ rough straits, but 2011 was a good year for me. People were flexing their shoulders. I want to see where things are going.

And if the Mayans have it right, I am so beating up more than few illegal immigrants, I suppose that includes my mother and me-- they could have told us.

Crafting a Good Yarn, Am I?

I ask myself that question often. Well, I probably already know Bennet's answer to this question, but excuse me while I indulge myself by thinking about it for myself.

Game-wise is one thing.

One of the things I've tried to avoid since becoming one of the hardest working GMs in the world (does anyone else you know run six to twelve events each year for non-regular groups, as well as about a eight to twenty games for his regulars?), is the urge to "go improv." You know, where you walk into a scheduled session and just wing it. Not sure why I don't, because the times that I have, it has gone well-- I swear that I've sold more than a dozen copies of T&T for Flying Buffalo the times I have. But I think it has something to do with the cathartic qualities of writing things out, versus the thrill of being spontaneous, as well as something of a showboat, as a GM.

On the other side of gaming sessions, I have to watch out to not overly push my story on the players. They often do indeed like to improv. Over the last two years, I have been experimenting with forcing the players to improvise just to see the dynamics in a more clear fashion. Alas I have found it, the GM's seeds make a good or bad session for everyone, and not just the biggest ham bone in group.

But at the table, it's still bits and pieces that come out during the course of play, despite pages upon pages of written text. So I've started putting in the image, sometimes image, that I want to describe and then start crafting the tale around that. From emails that I have received for my Elder Tunnel scenarios, this method has seemed to be somewhat successful. I often hear my script is well paced, which is a surprise to me, because I am not paying attention to that as I write these pieces. Mostly I am trying to fill out the world that feel makes my images, and sometimes spiffy game mechanics, coherent. That and fill up a couple pages for the print product. I suppose though the theatrical format facilitates a sense of stage management that isn't actually the intent. Glad I get something right.

Fiction-wise is another.

In the age of the internet and limited social network interfaces, many fiction writers that I know have started to think that anything over two paragraphs is boring and repetitive. I read a friend's "novel in progress" end up yes with 50,ooo words, but at the same time it had 92 chapters. While Kurt Vonnegut or Kathy Acker might think that is good thing, I as a reader could barely get into the ever-shifting pace. In the end, narrative needs a bit more than Point-To-Point mechanics. Still my own 14,ooo worded chapters, often come off as rote to me.

This year I am going to try something new, my Dreaming. Not as plot guides, dreams don't do that well. And the age of mass media imagery TV turning the human subconscious into a flat planet, my dreams just aren't the guide to amazing visions or deep inspiration towards things unknown that they once were. No I am going to use my dreams for guide to finding the emotionality of my characters. This just may be the key towards having characters that surprise me. I hear every fiction writer claim that their plots just fell together and they had no idea what was going to happen next because of those zanny, wild and whacky Out-of-Control characters on the page in front of them. Considering how formula most those authors tend to be, I think they are bullshitting. But I'd like to get more depth into characters, despite the lack of spontaneity in my daily emotions, so perhaps my dreams can help here.

And now to start piecing together "Bigger Than A Breadbox" for A Dark Gathering horror role-playing event, coming up this May in Syracuse, New York.

TAG 2.0?

I have been doing a lot of "rules design" in my head over the last week. Not sure why, just doing it. Making rules systems to me is kind of like spending time with the lawn or making cookies instead of buying them. Pleasurable work and good for practicing needed "gamer skills."

I have been playing D&D, err D20, err 3.75 err a game sessions over the past year. That is as well as run various T&T sessions to people that only ever played one of the variations of D&D. I have also been reading through Roy Cram's, Yorda's, vast and varied submitted works, I think they're supposed to be for PeryPub, over the last few weeks. One of his four and half projects that he is working is something called Mad Roy's Super Simple System (MRSSS for short), as opposed to re-learning MSPE for this Summer's issue of Elder Tunnels (the theme is modern T&T-based items).

It occurs to me that keeping it simple isn't always fun for audience when trying a new game. I have never had a harder time explaining to people that rolling high on two six-sided dice is a good thing than after I explained the T&T Saving Roll to both hardcore veterans and casual players of D&D alike. From complaints that are blatantly wrong like, "there is no randomness;" to the intellectually honest, "I hate doing addition." So this system isn't the "simple system to end all simple systems. "

Instead I am taking experiences from playing D&D, err 3.75, err D20, err some games with an icosahedron and differential tables with Pery, Rook and JerryTel, and working on making the combat more step driven and defined. I have to admit even my T&T combat sessions are enhanced by adding details during the fray rather than coloring the results. And I am working in a couple "but ifs" so the players can feel that they're playing a trump card every now and then.

Who knows I may take my "Tom's Rip-Off of Tunnels and Trolls," fondly referred to as TROTT in Pery's and my household, and turn it on its head. More like a "Rolled Over Tunnels and Trolls, Expanded and Nuanced," hmmmm a ROTTEN core set of rules or something. Am I going to use this new system for my re-working of Spacers(TM) or the release of the "Powder Punk" setting this upcoming year? I dunno. But more than likely there will be a very quirky setting where I try out this new games matrix.

As of yet, there is no d20 in these blueprints though.

Bogey Men, the Mothman and 665 Hits in a Single Day

This one goes to Bennet, who I'll still just keep continuing to delete his comments. Freedom of Speech means you get make an ass of yourself elsewhere or just do the "I HATE KOPFY" forum, please provide all my links for all your fans. I seem to have had a bad egg magumuffin this morning, so maybe your voodoo doll is working. Oops sorry a bit of salt and broccoli seems to have helped. Stay strong and remember to lock the door so your mother can't walk in during the ritual. I am your biggest fan, but sadly you're still just getting tossed off.

While that above is fascinating to me, I actually wanted to talk about the paranormal. Or should I say, "The Paranormal." Which happens to the title to a spin-off project of the horror role-playing rules I wrote called CrawlSpace for Monk and TAG in that order. Paranormal doesn't get worked on too often, but for the bad conspiracy/ superhero setting Nixon World I've been reviewing the cases of Big Foot and the Mothman. Anybody else notice that these occurrences tend to pop in places where everyone is "honest" and "knows each other?"

Then with just a little, very little actually, research a couple of things come to light. Someone that describes red-filtered flashlights on a National Guardsman's steel pot, with him flapping his poncho to scare away a car full of teenagers, as "red eyes that peered into my soul..." . Three years later, that person admitted to being stoned out of her gourd and "telling fibs." A decade earlier, half a continent away a restaurant owner makes casts of some large imaginary creature and runs around for about three miles away from the spot, and then makes a film of a friend in a gorilla suit; then years later gets outed by his son when he is dead and buried, as having conducted a hoax. Both of these people get described,... no.... keep getting described as "hardworking," "salt of the earth," and "honest" "folk." And then those other "good" folk around that keep collaborating the tales, even after the showings, fall into either the roles of superstitious or culpable with the hoax to begin with. Not even a one can crack a smile while maintaining the fireside tale.

And I'd like to thank everyone who helped Kopfy's Kreche, ""We're All Mad Here." Carnage 2011: part 2" get 665 posts in one day. That like put the month of November 2011 to the most audience that I have ever seen.

Fantasy Movies Are Supposed To Be Bad, continued.

Last night we watched Conan, the Barbarian the 2011 release of the tale. This was definitely a King Kong of a fantasy flik for me. It worked for me as a mixture as a rambling sword and sorcery tale coupled with the latest Hollywood motifs and hooks. Worked into the motion picture was a smattering of allusions from the Robert E. Howard fiction. It was kind of weird to hear "Venarium" coming from the latest sword-wielding Hawaiian to make the silver screen in a groin cloth, as well as be treated to Harry Potter childhood scenes with gratuitous decapitations.


The decapitations were right up there with the obligatory Ron Perlman appearance in any fantasy film with a budget larger than a lunch at Hardees. And I can't say that he did all that bad, considering his role as a Barbarian chieftain was probably written by a guy who just scripted a 3-D Lassie remake due out next Arbor Day or some such. The villains were kewl. Stephen Lang and Rose McGowan were great as the cruel necromancer, Khalar Zym, and his witch daughter, Marique.

The rest of the movie had the look of what one comes to expect from Hyboria these days, ever since that music video in the big, bad 1980s. Ruins and statues every ten steps. People dragging stuff over harsh terrain and being whipped for unexplained reasons. What was new was the film-makers' take on getting some explosions into the "epic." Not a lot of money on special effects for sorcery, but cabbage and orange-filled wagons waiting for boulders to be rolled into them. Heck, we all know Robert E. Howard's works are "low fantasy" anyway.

Not a bad fantasy flik at all.

Holy Days and Pepper Sprays

I was off Thanksgiving, and though I often volunteer to work it, I took it off. I made Peryton and me oven baked "fried" chicken, peppery Brussels sprouts and cheapo macaroni and cheese. I found some some pecan pie for desert. All in all, I rather enjoyed the little holiday meal. I felt kind of rebellious, which always kind of satisfies me to begin with, but this was something different. The meal was fancy for us, as in we didn't order out, but instead cooked at home. But at the same time, besides the desert (we don't do a lot of pie), it was nothing specially bought for the occasion. The meal and the concurrent viewing of Ralph Bakshi's Fire and Ice, was quite a bit of fun and somehow "spiritually" satisfying.

Neither of us got on the phone and pined for old times with relatives. We certainly didn't start an itemized list of what we should be thankful for. We were thankful for a chance to have dinner together on a Thursday without either of us having to go to work that day. We didn't say it aloud, but it showed.

Of course, I over thought things, I wanted to walk over to my FacetuBe account on my laptop and post something like, "Christians, celebrated this Thanksgiving like our Founding fathers! Fast for three days every couple of months!" But most people probably don't realize that the tale of the "first Thanksgiving with the Indians and pilgrims" was something made in 1905. So I thought of a subtler joke to poke fun the event going on around me instead. That said, this year, I start the "High Season" of the winter with a new perspective on collective behavior as well as my usual axe to grind against Christianity during the Christmas days.

Santa Claus and private gift giving events became part of the Christmas tradition in English-speaking cultures a little before American Civil War, when wealthier folk got tired of poorier drunken rabble swinging by their houses to sing to them with carols. Ads were placed in papers, and mildly talented poets were featured like authors of Harry Potter books to get this tradition started. And this year, as the #Occupy movements with their rather anti-Capitalistic notions have stirred up trouble while pointing out alternately that park regulations are better enforced than banking and investment law and pepper spray is food product, Christmas shopping started at 4pm on Thanksgiving day in some places.

My instinctual distrust of mass movements, seems to be borne out in reports that I read that evening and the next morning. True to form, some idiot fully involved in the absurdity of of the Holy Days pepper sprayed a group of people during this "new shopping craze." And others were trampled, while even dead people were stepped over during this festival of purchasing. Security forces and police seem to have been busy elsewhere, letting people live their lives as they fit it seems as long as it's inside a Walmart.

I can't wait for my big turkey feast day next Memorial Day or Arbor day now.

"The Mushroom Consumed" Carnage 2011, part 5

Sunday, 6. Nov.
Andre's Room of Ruination was full and there was an impromptu ceremony where he was receiving an award for one his warship war-games, during the Napoleonic wars, or there about. And though Pery says she came into the party after I did, I remember seeing her there when I first walked in. I could be wrong. Things get a little fuzzy, and all I can say is that I wasn't the only person keeping the party going until 6am this time around. I think Scott, Ben, Mike (Gandalf from the RPG Bomb) and CCrabb were hanging just as strong as I was. Two highlights of the party for me were my recitation of the life of Black Bart the pirate, and Andre's continued threats to just go ahead and pay the $50 late check-out fee.Around 10am, the PeryPubbers were all packed up and bathed, believe me, this group requires that last part frequently, and we were ready to hand in our room keys. So we hung out waiting for noon when we promised to hook up with Zach and CCrabb for a departing lunch/breakfast. Hanging out in the now emptying lounge area overlooking the lake, we lounged on couches. Gaylord, Dr. Nik and others sat with us to chat us up for bits. Tyler swung by with his microphone and absconded with me and Pery in separate turns for quick interviews. Zach was with us recounting his wildman exploits with the Zack-Pack back in their room.

I have missed an event of importance in my recounting of this tale so far; Monk's games, both Fudge, I believe were hits. Not only were they hits, but the man had tens of ppl fawning on him every time he walked into a crowd. Apparently, while I was wandering around looking for parties, this man was sequestered away in private rooms and dispensing humor and gamer insight. The is indeed the guru of Rock'n'Role-Playing(TM) with his adventures "Clerks Vs Zombies" and "Beastie Boys in Billsburg." All that said, it was great to see my close friend have as much fun as I was having. K Bell mentioned that the whole convention rekindled his faith in his GM-abilities, which I never knew were being questioned-- the man's just good at what he does.

Well the departure lunch went off after CCrabb checked in the last round of RPG games. And we were on the road by around 2pm. The drive was scenic and windy, with the sun in eyes all the way. We made it to Syracuse a little after 9pm, and found our favorite Red Roof Inn there, really we have one. And the PeryPubbers enjoyed their first night in separate rooms of the entire trip. I actually fell asleep at midnight and slept until 7am Monday morning.

The rest of Monday was spent checking out a couple places for Andre and my spoken of "Hoot thing." Keep tuned in for news on that. At 1pm we kicked out Monk and K-Bell to fend for themselves at the Syracuse airport, I'm sure they're fine, they like airports and know enough not to run out into traffic. Pery and I made our way back home, but first had to swing into Tag's restaurant and stage. Pery was downright rushing out of the car, forgetting everything as she saw our little spot's neon sign. It was kind of sweet.

So at about 9pm on Monday, our trip through the rabbit hole was over as we pulled into our driveway.

"The Smiling Cat" Carnage 2011, part 4

Saturday, 5. Nov. (continued)
Upon entering Andre's Billiards Room of Doom, I entered the cozy after-party that I've been hanging out at for the last two years. Stevie-D and Zach were actually new additions, but Ben from Schenectady, Andre (obviously) and CCrabb are my after hours gang. Stevie-D faded first, and Zach went out for a cigarette to never return. At around 3am, Ben bid everyone adieu. At that point I usually head home, but this time around, I decided to "go for bro" , so I pressed onward into the realms of sleepless debauchery. And debauch it was; Andre treated CCrabb and me to his death metal collection. CCrabb got poky and admitted that even editors have creative thoughts every now and then. I think Andre and I were arguing about the Randolph Carter cycle, Christi metaphorically passed away long before, when suddenly we were talking about doing a small horror get-together-- "One your Hoot things." was his choice of words. And just as I was about to go into details as to how these "hoot things" occur, the cognac hit in and I got dizzy and noticed it was after 5am. with promises to return, I left an equally dizzy Andre to straighten up his den of death and death-metal before he stumbled to his own bed.

So there I was, back in my room, everyone mildly snoring, and me staggering ass drunk at about 5:24am. I just knew I was going to sleep until 11am, maybe even past noon. Maybe people were going to have to shake me awake ten minutes before my afternoon games! 9:14am Pery sits up and sneezes, I am awake for the rest of the day and I know it.

Once again Monk and K Bell were up for the walk into town, or at least along the gas station and greasy spoon strip next to the New Hampshire border. The fresh air did me well. And I was ready for my upcoming events.

Coming into the resort, I saw the line for next year's reservations underway. Seemed kind of depressing to me, so we sent K Bell up to stand in line for us.

After some dork swiped two tables in the role-playing room, the Carnage Passchendale as I like to call it, I had to head into the main dining room. But hat tip to Tyler, the executive decision was handled with less than a second's indecision, and his place I would have done the same thing. That said, I hope something will be said to the table-grubber about his being a DICK in a hobby where everyone actually tries to get along. My T&T game "The Mines of Naram-Sin" still filled up, with an extended family of five (headed by Ari and Chris(?)), and Michael Behrman, I say his name just because anybody with the name "Bear-Man" is just kewl beyond normal bounds. The game went a little over, I blame myself, as well the party taking an hour to approach the entrance of the tunnels I had for them, and the final encounter ended up with a "total party kill" event" which I didn't engineer. Still it was a good game, and the family angle keeps my public-speaking skills well practiced.

Had dinner with Pery, Andre and Zsuzsa and then Monk and K Bell. I couldn't stick around because I had to work my characters for my CoC game coming up. No room hijinx, just me forgetting a great costume that I was going to outdo Dr. Nik with this year.

My "Castle of the Moth" for CoC was one awesome event for me, if no one else. Zach and Derek showed up. I saw Heather and Patrick across the room, yet again avoiding actually playing one of my games, the scalawags that they are. But Dan and Dan, two true Lovecraft fans, and Lucas, also a man who knows a good Cthulhu tale when he hears one, showed up to fill out the table. Now while the plot never got around to the deep Mythos knowledge that I had in store, I felt like I was watching a movie. The characters were a disparate collection of people with separate interests as to why they were in the scenario I presented. In the end, with a couple of "character feeds" (The GM tells the Player what his PC should do), I had a nice gruesome yarn unfolding in front of me. The was only a "Bigfoot" of a CoC game for me, next year will be better. But after the high caliber performance of the players involved, I am not sure it will open to the public.

The after-party started innocently enough. I bought my Castle Moth players a drink of their choice, except Lucas, who abstained. The next thing I know Ray was sitting on my lap, where I was keeping the camera in my front pocket. After pushing him off, I forcibly told him, "The Story is that it was a hot chick that broke the camera!" I mean if I was going to get in trouble for breaking a piece of technology with Pery, it had better be worth it.

I actually found Pery, and a room full of others already in Andre's Den of Iniquity and Villainy...

"Off With the Head." Carnage 2011, part 3

Friday, 4. Nov. (continued)
Me stumbling into the hotel room just before 5am, didn't surprise anybody. Even me speaking of the debauchery-filled orgy that I had just come, to the sleepy Peryton went over without a second yawn. But when I looked at my cell phone, which I had left in the room the previous evening, with the text message from her saying "It's 3:45. Where are you?" I had to wake her up and shake her shoulders demanding, "3:45 am!?! Where the hell have you been tramping about?"

"With shotguns and Andre?" She answered. "Where else?"

I hate when she does that, but fair's fair. Her party was better than mine.

At about 7:30am, I realized I was awake and experiencing a Switchback Ale headache. The aspirin and glass of water that I had before lying down was helping, but some fresh air would definitely help. Luckily Monk and K-Bell were awake as well, so we did my yearly "breakfast walk" from Vermont to New Hampshire, because no one along the way takes debit cards. Truthfully, we had some cash so we actually just hit the bridge between the States to say that we had.

Back in the room, I finished up the characters for the afternoon's fast approaching T&T game, "Raiders of the Temple of Marduk." Didn't take to long, so I tried to nap. Didn't stop Monk and Pery from having some hijacks with my still conscious, unbeknown to them, body. Just before we were headed Monk came around the corner in the room and caught Pery pouring her wine cooler into her exercise water bottle. I can't complain because of the alcohol, I had been washing my mouth with Miller High Life since 7:45am, but the wife's downward spiral being a flask full of Mike's Cranberry Lemonade not scotch or something else was just too hilarious for everyone in the room.

So "Raiders" had CCrabb, John Prushko, and couple of guys from Connecticut, Dan and Don. The session itself was a nice mixture of just the right size, three to four players is my comfort zone as a GM, and old-school gamers trying out T&T for the first time. It was an awesome game, though the players skirted my whole WWII parody by sneaking around the Neo-Assyrians, none too affectionately called "the Nazis." Instead we had a group of adventurers finding their way to a lost Temple with only chaos spawn in their way. But my monsters, some goat-folk and a Chaos ogre worked out well for my tastes. Overall, a perfect game.

In between the afternoon games and the start of the evening's events, found the PeryPubbers rallying at the bar. Shocking I know, but even more surprising, I was the first there. So besides Joe the bartender, whose mixture of wit and wisdom I don't think I could live without at Carnage, I was making my well rehearsed rant "Canadians are Cylons" to Tara, a LARPer, Charles from New Hampshire, and a fellow wearing the official Green Mountain garb of a flannel shirt and baseball cap, hiding his face. The last fellow looked familiar and was laughing, but I just wasn't sure if I knew him (I couldn't see his face).

After dinner, it was time to run my Spacers scenario "The Sirens of Sedna." Coming up to the table was the fellow with the hat, who was indeed ZACH! My prodigal son from last year's Spacers game. Well I kind of kept him in a hole, but you know. As well as his long term friend Derrik, not sure if I am spelling that correctly. Steven Dresser also showed up. And a new fellow named Jamie. Patrick, also a member of the Zach-Pack, from last year swung by to observe the game. Once again I had a good sized group, and Stevie-D (from now on) had some special coffee with magical coffee beans that made on tipsy as well as the beverage tasty. Had a great time myself because of the great players. I think I did okay having forgotten to bring my own rule book.
Who didn't make it was Heather Ryder, who will always be one of the Original woman of Spacers. She did make it for the picture above.

Luckily my midnight game was a wash, I was feeling tired. Dan from Connecticut did swing in to give me a scare, JERK, while Zach and I played a couple hands of poker just to pass the time.

Saturday, 5. Nov.
I can blame Stevie-P and CCrabb for getting Zach and me riled up again by wanting to hang out and waking me up. Once again Stevie-P's magical coffee doing its thing. I dragged C.J. Henderson from some place during a trip to the bar, to do a reading of one of his books. My cohorts had disappeared to spots unknown, but I had great time listening to part of his story "Around the Mulberry Bush" read aloud. The writer excused himself after the session, and I found I was restless.

I found Stevie-P, CCrabb and Zach heading towards Andre's little billiards room of doom...

"We're All Mad Here." Carnage 2011: part 2

Thursday, 3. Nov (Continued)
When everyone finally was awake and refreshed, the PeryPubbers were in the car and rolling by around 9:30am. Everyone was having a good time as Mavis, our car's GPS unit, navigated us through the Adirondack region of New York. I am sure everyone was more than happy to be educated on my thoughts of all the Amish living in the area as well, especially Pery as she needs to know more of my personal opinions everyday of her life. We were having a ball and discovering some parts of the world that I didn't think existed outside of the Ukraine, the Troika and various parts of outer Mongolia; gas stations where you didn't have to pre-pay.

Heading into Vermont, yes we found a way back to an interstate, despite Mavis's love of antique shops and dairy farms, we were treated to rough streets of Rutland and then into the Green Mountains. As often as I've driven the route, the only thing I noticed was signs of the flooding from Hurricane Irene and a definite lack of bathrooms. Monk and K Bell were eating it up with a spoon though. And soon enough, we were at the Lake Morey resort.

The first night, I intended to get my characters for my scenarios done, and I got as far as getting the character sheets photocopied. Then Thomas and Ben from Schenectady and Dr. Nik dropped by, and we had a beer to dampen our throats filled with the dusts of the roads we travelled. And then Gaylord, Steve and about sixteen other Toms swung by, and I couldn't be rude and not have beers with them as well. Tyler even stopped by to discuss a little Dr. Who and Pery's little game spin-off.

Friday, 4. Nov.
By 2am, I had finished four out of 30 characters, was staggering drunk, but was stubbornly hanging out waiting for Pery to finish Andre Kruppa's CoC game. I stretched my arms and rubbed my eyes... Wallah it was 4:30am and I was waking up at an empty bar. To quote Monk, "the day could only go up from there."

"Chasing Rabbits." Carnage Convention 2011: part 1

An old German Riddle:
Q: How does one make catching rabbits easier?
A: Run fast enough to sprinkle pepper on its tail.
No one takes credit for this mean joke played on many kids until they are about 162, but is almost universally adored.

Wednesday, 2. Nov.
Heading of of Cleveland at 8:42am, only twelve minutes late, perhaps was not the smartest thing to do as Pery and I started heading to Fairlee, Vermont by way of Syracuse, New York; rush hour traffic downtown and then towards the uptown area to get out of town was a little trying. But then again, Cleveland doesn't really have traffic jams. So the old ball and chain and I were in free-flying mode by around 9:30 and cruising through space and time to pick up Monk and K-Bell at the Syracuse airport by 3pm. We passed the time pretty much alternating between silent expectation and gamer small talk. Stuff like Ravenloft versus In Nomine and our viewing of Torchwood: Miracle Day the night before-- I had fallen asleep, but was impressed overall.

While being a little euphoric at being headed towards our "Fall convention," Pery and I were a bit guarded, as this time around we had many moving parts in the works to make things work for this trip. We were picking up a couple of our best friends in an unexplored airport in a city where I pretty much knew nothing about, except its place on a map and that Peter Weller (Robocop) is a Professor of History at its university. There was a little crimp in funds until the upcoming Friday. Pre-generated characters had to finished. My laundry wasn't done. Just all sorts of needed to fall into place.

Lucky for our square-jawed smiles, because when we arrived at the Syracuse International Airport, a poor cop detailed to the joint, pulled me over for running a Stop sign. I read him in about two seconds and knew he was going for the ticket, if not a full search of the car and a grope of my wife. When he came back with my ticket, without the other things I was half-expecting occurring, I made him repeat everything and clarify everything he said in his well-practiced spiel, and and then had the gall to pleasantly ask him directions for the surrounding area. I even asked how many Stop Signs there were in the airport's thoroughfare. There were twelve before we could get back on the interstate again. He was about to explode just before he was done, must've needed a coffee break or something.

Finding Monk and K-Bell was not hard at all. I walked in to the rather small airport, and the only "Arrival/Departure" screens were right next to where the couple walked around the corner in two minutes-- before I finished reading through the arrival lists. Monk could only laugh as he heard about me picking on the local law enforcement officers after only fifteen minutes of my arrival in their fair city. And as it happens when Monk and K-Bell arrive, the car was filled with mirth once again. Everyone, except Pery, giggled as I ran yet another Stop Sign, as my red hair started showing again.

It was still early, so we decided to travel on. Monk suggested it would be good to get some distance between me and the city of Syracuse's popo. But after an hour, the rush hour traffic started to resume, so Pery pulled out her GPS and searched for hotels and whatnot with a watery landmark within their title. As we all know, a "watery landmark" means interesting in tourism -speak. So we broke off of the toll road and headed into the wilds of New York state's bedroom communities. We ended up in Little Falls, down in their gentrified Canal District. The B&B where we stayed was decent enough, but I won't go into details because the owner had problems with his credit card machine, which I found out via a note, and then couldn't find the replacement cash tip when I left it in our room the next morning before check out.

Of course "no one and none of (his) staff had been in the room" before he decided to call me trying to shake me down at 5pm the next day. Of course he knew that I wouldn't lie about leaving dozen or so dollars he did not know how to process before completing the bill. He tried to convince me that Monk and/or K-Bell stole it from the "tip" envelope when I wasn't looking. When I mentioned that I knew had known them longer than I knew him, he realized that his coy mind game wasn't working and shifted into full aggressive douche bag mode. I never said "fuck off" but I told him to call me when he found the money to apologize or wanted to admit that he swiped it from his waiter who deserved it.

But I digress, there is a little story here. In Little Falls, the refurbished antique shop/bed & breakfast/artist studio district is about 200 yards from a railroad track. Of course the trains every thirty minutes or so. While we were sitting in the B&B's ajoining pub/restaurant, a train was going past and a busboy opened the door to the kitchen. The clock over the door way, which happened to be behind our table (our choice no one else's) fell from its perch, and shattered on the floor. After cleaning the mess up, our waiter, who was a lot of fun as well skilled stated, "That is spooky."

"It would be spooky if it was still October." I replied.

That drew a room full of laughter, it made convincing Monk and the waiter to perform a re-enactment of their reactions, just for the purposes of this blog.

Thursday, 3. Nov.
Awake at 5am means one can have some time to himself. I took a walk hoping to find some coffee and a paper, but found a laundry mat. One more thing off of the checklist to get everything working right. I met the place's owner and his big-ass dog. Are big dogs the fashion these days? I noticed everyone with a pet that I had ran into out in New York's bedroom land territory had dogs that their children could mount as warhorses...










Between the cop and the B&B owner, I guess I was finding out in "upstate" New York that if you aren't a fast rabbit, everyone is either providing pepper or about to sneeze on you.