Giving thanks

This Sunday at Church the Minister talked about not dwelling on the past; to give thanks for what we have received, but to live our lives in the present and look forward to the future.

Coincidentally - or not - my Mum was sitting beside me for the third Sunday in a row, and she was scheduled to fly back home that very evening.

There are days where the Minister seems to have written his sermon just for me and this was one of those days.

I took comfort from his words, and instead of being sad that Mum was leaving I gave thanks for the weeks that we'd had together.

Instead of dwelling on the past, on the years gone by and the thousands of miles that separate us, I look forward to when Mum will visit again.

I have been very bitter for many, many years over what I have wrongly thought of as my wife forcing me to leave my birth family and move here to the States. Wrongly, because it was my decision to leave. I could have stayed and let her go and never seen her again, instead I chose to leave my family so I could be with her. Foolishly, believing that we'd move back to Australia some day. Naively, not comprehending how difficult that choice would be to live with. But it was my choice. I made it, and I've lived with it.

But until now I've always lived in the past, dwelling on what may have been, instead of what is.

Life has been hard, there have been tears over the years.

But there has been joy, too.

It's time for me to stop living in the past,
to give thanks for the gifts I have received,
and look forward to the future and the gifts yet to come.

Today is a great day because it's one more day I get to spend with my wife, my children, my family.

Tomorrow will be even better.

Snarky without my coffee

We have two sign-in sheets at the front desk. These are for us, the staff, to sign in & out; not for people visiting our office. There are two sign-in sheets because the number of workers in our office spans two pages, A through M on the first page, N through Z on the second.

Because I'm almost always the first person to arrive at the office each morning, when I get in I take yesterday's two sign-in sheets off their respective clipboards, put them on the "old sheet" stack under the counter, get two new sheets from the "new sheet" stack, write today's day & date at the top of each page, clip them to their clipboards, then check off my name on the second page as being "Present!".

This morning I got in and saw someone had beaten me into the office, and they'd put a new sign-in sheet on the first clipboard. That is they'd taken the first sheet, the A-M sheet, from the new sheet stack, but only the A-M sheet because their name is on that first sheet, so obviously they don't need the second sheet. Duh! Then they put that new A-M sheet on top of Friday's sheet, dated it, checked off their name, then toddled off to their desk.

I looked at the sign-in sheets for a few seconds, almost unable to believe that someone would take out and date only that first sheet because that was all they needed. Almost.

I sighed, and reminded myself that coworkers can be friendly but that doesn't make them friends. Then I unclipped Friday's sheets, put them under the counter on the "old sheet" stack, took the page of N-Z names off the new sheet stack, clipped it to the clipboard, wrote today's day & date on it, checked off my name...and then...

I took another sheet from the new sheet stack, being the first page of A-M names.

And I wrote today's day & date on top of that page.

And I replaced the sheet my coworker had used to check off her name with this new sheet, and I put "her" sheet on the "old sheet" stack. And no, I didn't check off her name on my new A-M sheet. Bwah hah ha!

No, she won't get into trouble for not checking in or anything like that, but I gained a certain amount of perverse pleasure plus the satisfaction in redoing the entire "job" and not just "finishing what she'd started".

With that I went to the breakroom to get a cup of coffee and discovered she'd already been in there too, and that while the kettle was on to boil so she could make herself a cup of tea, Friday's 3-day old coffee was still sitting in the pot. Lovely.

Hey. How YOU doin' ?

Life has been going on, we've been doing stuff, but as more and more time passed since my last Blog post I felt less & less inclined to write another entry. So why now? Why not just the Blog die? Good answer. Boredom, perhaps :P

The boy and I have been playing a lot of Magic:The Gathering. He's getting pretty good at building & tweaking his decks, and seems to know how to get the best out of each of the cards in his hand at any given time. Our games are no longer a walk in the park for me, and when I'm not careful about how to play my own cards he will take advantage of the situation and my lack of concentration and kick my butt. And I'm happy for him that he's able to do so :)

We've been watching Wil Wheaton's "Tabletop" videos on Youtube, where he has a few guests over and they all play a board game together. It's not as boring as it sounds. Okay, some of the videos are, but some of them are very entertaining to watch, too. Through Tabletop I finally got to see Munchkin in action, which is game I've had my eye on for a long time but never felt it was something the family would want to play. But after watching it played on Tabletop, then having a birthday last month, I decided Munchkin should be my birthday present, and so it was. And when it arrived we played it almost non-stop for several days in a row. We would play back-to-back games, then take a break for an hour or so, then one of us would be "So...rematch?" and everybody said "Sure! Get it ready!" I won't bore you with the details, instead, watch Wil & Co. play the game and you can decide if Munchkin might be something you could get into.


Subsequent edit to the review of Facebook's Walking Dead Game. I will leave the review up, but they made a few changes to the game, as I discovered when I was playing the other night, which IMO are game-breaking.

I had leveled up so I went to do the next Story Mission, and I discovered I didn't have enough Supplies to attempt it. Which was odd because I'd never ran into this problem before. In fact I had almost 250 Supplies, and yet I still needed more in order to do the Story Mission. So I did a couple more regular Missions, obtained some more supplies, then completed the Story Mission.

The next Story Mission popped up and naturally it required me to gain another level before I could attempt it, or I could spend Dead Dollars to unlock it now. Except it was pointless unlocking it now because I had no Supplies...and I needed 260 Supplies to attempt it. For several seconds I stared at that requirement in disbelief. Then I quit the game.

Don't get me wrong. I understand wanting to be compensated for your time in building your game by encouraging your players to pay-to-play, but IMO this change was ridiculously excessive and achieved the exact opposite of what "they" were trying to accomplish.

Instead of persuading me to invest money in the game as I've done in the past with other games, LOTRO, Wizard 101, and DDO, just to name a few, they turned me off the game instead.

Anyway, here's my original review, for what it's worth, given that I no longer consider it worth playing.

* * *


I recently began playing Facebook's The Walking Dead game which, unlike many of FB and Zynga's games, actually plays like a real game. If you ever played X-Com or any of its spin-offs The Walking Dead game is a lot like that. Naturally it's a "lite" version, and naturally, being a FB game, there's the pervasive begging to pay them real money to play what is otherwise a free game. But being a FB game it's not something you'll spend an entire evening playing; it's really just a minor diversion for 30 minutes or so, but it's a fun 30-minute diversion and with the X-Com-like mechanics it's more like a real game than any other FB game I've played (and I've played a lot of them).

You start with your main character who, after a brief tutorial with Sheriff Shane, finds him/herself in the first season's camp, where you'll meet Lori & Carl, and T-Dog, just to name a few of the more familiar characters.

There are other characters in the camp, too, and chatting to them will provide you with a Mission, Intel, or boost your Morale, with Intel & Morale being 'resources' you'll need to attempt the Missions. Before you go on a Mission you select a character (other characters will join your "Main Character"), then select a weapon. Some Missions are Guns Only, some are Melee Only, which is kind of irrelevant because you can change weapons mid-Mission. On a Melee Only Mission you can switch out your Hatchet for the Shotgun, if you feel it necessary to shoot a Walker. Conversely, if you don't want to shoot (Ammo is a limited resource, and gunshots will attract other, nearby Walkers) you can just use your gun as a Melee weapon.

Missions are played in a hybrid real-time, turn-by-turn, grid-based system, where you select an action or a square to move to, and while your character performs that action or runs to that square, any nearby Walkers will just stand there and watch. So you can run right up to a Walker and bash his brains in (out?), if you want to.

But it's not quite turn-based, because while you're deciding what to do, the Walkers will still be moving around the map, with one exception: once a Walker notices you they will take several steps toward you, then stop. They had their turn, they moved their maximum amount of steps, and now it's your turn.

This is where X-Com-lite and strategy come into play.

Each Mission has a goal, "Kill X Walkers", "Find X Supplies", etc., and every action you perform while undertaking that Mission uses an Energy point, and your Character only has a limited amount of Energy.

So...do you run up to that Walker and hit him, even though you need to go the other way to get to the Mission-critical Supplies?

Do you Shoot the Walker from a distance, and risk alerting other nearby Walkers?

Do you "End Turn" and let the Walker move closer, so you don't waste Energy on moving but now run the risk of the Walker getting close enough to Melee you first?

Or do you run the other way, hoping you don't run into another Walker, and hope to find something to hide (Crouch) behind so - hopefully - the Walker loses interest in you?

It's the little things like these which I feel make The Walking Dead game a lot more enjoyable than your typical FB game.

As you progress through the game and complete Missions you Level Up and earn Skills points, which you use to improve your Characters by buffing their stats. Such as Vision, to increase how far you can see. Stamina, so you can take more hits in combat, and Movement, to increase how far you can move "per turn", and so on.

Buffing Movement is a good place to start as it allows you to outrun Walkers, get in and deliver the first strike, or even just move long distances thus maximizing your Movement-to-Energy point ratio.

A few points in Stamina can also go a long way to keeping you alive when you're forced to engage multiple Walkers. And sometimes you will, because the game has an annoying habit at higher levels of turning what appears to be one corpse into two Walkers.

Vision is useful but not terribly necessary. Items like Food, Water, Medical Supplies, etc. are always visible, even when at the other end of the map. The only reason to buff Vision is to increase your short-range distance so you can see any nearby Walkers.

You also have a Striking and a Shooting stat, which you'll need to buff not to make you better at Striking & Shooting, but to allow you to wield higher level weapons. Weapons wear out and need repairing after a few missions, and you cannot attempt a Mission empty-handed, so you'll want a good range of weapons so you're not waiting on repairs.

And with that, comes combat. When you enter into combat a circular targeting reticle appears, and depending on your weapon one of several patterns will begin. Sometimes the reticle will move in a figure 8, other times it will bounce up & down or move from left to right, but it will always be centered over the Walker's head. As it passes over his head it turns red, and it's obvious what you need to do; left-click when it's red and make the Walker dead (more dead?).

Time your click right and you take the Walker out, complete with animation. Time your click perfectly and you get credited with a Perfect Kill and a special animation. For example, a regular kill with the Hatchet has you bury it in the Walker's head, but a Perfect Kill has you first decapitate the Walker then stomp on its head. It's not a ground-breaking combat system, but that you don't just click "Strike" and get an automatic kill makes it more engaging and more interesting than your standard FB "game".

Now if you miss, by clicking too early or too late, it's the Walker's turn and they don't miss. Your character will struggle with the Walker for a second or two before pushing it back, but the green Stamina bar below your character will now no longer be full. And if there were two Walkers they'll both get in a hit. These are the moments when you'll be glad you used several of those early skill points to boost your Stamina.

One last thing on Missions and Leveling. There is a Story that unfolds as you get further into the game and complete more and more Story Missions. In an attempt to persuade you to give them money the Devs slipped in a game mechanic where a Story Mission requires you to be one level higher than your current level before you can attempt it. Oh sure, you could grind non-Story missions, slowly earning XP, until you finally gain enough to go up a level. Or...you could give the Devs your credit card number and unlock that Story Mission now ;)

If you can get over the fact that it's a Facebook game, look past the blatant attempt to wring real money out of you, and don't mind playing it for half an hour or so at a time, you'll find a fun little game that lets you indulge your Zombie-slaying fantasies without drawing weird looks from the neighbors peering over your back fence.

Pullover! No, it's a cardigan.

At 4:30am it's rare for me to see anyone else on the road, and so I almost always do a "California Roll" through the first Stop Sign as I head off to work. At the bottom of that street is a set of traffic lights where I make a right turn, and although the law requires me to come to a complete stop, I often slow down just enough to make sure the way is clear before doing a second "California Roll".

This morning was par for the course as I rolled through the Stop Sign, but after making the left turn and heading down towards the traffic lights I glanced in my rear view mirror and saw a car turn onto the road behind me. Not from my street but from the next one up. He sped up quickly and caught up with me just before I got to the lights, and just as I'd had that inkling many, many years ago, somehow this morning I thought it prudent to come to a complete stop at the red traffic light before making my right-hand turn.

As I made the turn the car followed me around the corner and just like that I found myself bathed in alternating red and blue lights. I pulled over and the cop car, because of course it was a cop car, pulled up behind me.

I glanced in my mirror and noticed a second car pulling up behind the first. Two cop cars? Must be a slow night/morning.

Okay. Turn off the engine. Turn the ignition back on to power down my window then turn it off again. Remove my beanie (to lower my perceived threat level), hands on the steering wheel, look in my mirrors and...the cop is coming up on my right, on the passenger side. That's fair enough, I guess. Unusual, and not SOP, but I guess it's safer than standing out in traffic.

Turn on the ignition again, power down the passenger-side window, turn off the ignition. Hands back on the steering wheel (again).

Cop leans over and peers in passenger-side window: Good morning, sir.

Me: Good morning, sir. How are you this morning?

Cop: Very well, thank you, sir. How are you?

Me: I'm good, thanks.

Cop (smiling, points to my left): The other side.

I turn and notice a second cop is standing next to my driver's side window.

Me: Sorry, sir. Good morning, how are you?

Cop #2: Is this your vehicle, sir?

Me: Yes, sir.

Cop #2: You live around here?

Me: Yes, sir.

Cop #2: Where abouts?

Me: Just back around the corner, sir. Where I was coming from.

Cop #2: What's the address?

Well, duh! Of course that's what he was asking. I give him my address.

Cop #2: Show me your license.
(This cop is obviously the bad cop.)

I tell the cop that my license is in my bag next to me (rather than in my wallet in my hip or back pocket) and that I'll need to get it out. (Don't Taze me, bro!)

The cop acknowledges this and I open my backpack, remove my wallet, and hand over my license. The two cops go back to the first car, return a minute or so later, hand me my license and bid me good day.

I start up my car, turn on my left turn signal (to signal that I'm pulling out from the curb, of course! Duh! There's a cop behind me! :P) and pull out. As I drive down the block I glance in my mirror. The two cop cars are gone. They can only have made an illegal u-turn and gone back the other way.

So was I not a random stop that morning? Were they looking for someone in my neighborhood and pulled me over in case I was their suspect? There was no breathalyzer, no search of the car, they didn't even ask for proof of insurance. They ran my license, then having verified that I was not "their guy" (or wanted for anything) they let me go. As far as traffic stops go, it was quite painless.

I wonder, if I had not come to a complete stop at the Red Light before making my turn, would they have written me a ticket?

Then again, given how many people do not stop at Red Lights before turning, did I draw attention to myself by obeying the law?

Was my Copdar a blessing this morning, or a curse? I guess we'll never know.

Punctuality

We recently we had an informational meeting in our office scheduled, apparently, for 8am. Because a Rep was coming in to make the presentation attendance was also mandatory, apparently.

A few minutes before 0800 my supervisor reminded me and my coworkers about the meeting and off we went.

When I walked in I noticed the Rep had already arrived and was chatting with our Director, and that the meeting did not appear to be in any danger of starting on time.

Other staff began slowly arriving.

At approx. fifteen minutes past the hour the Director finally got the meeting underway and the Rep started her spiel. It lasted all of 10 minutes. During her presentation people were still slowly dawdling in.

The last of the stragglers arrived just as the Director wrapped up the meeting. They walked in, saw the meeting was over, and turned and walked straight back out.

Airsoft, part deux

I played again last night and due to inadequate head protection, both natural and artificial, I got a bit of an owie.

This was due to friendly fire, which some may refer to as not-so-friendly fire. I didn't realize it was a team mate who nailed me, but as I'd accidentally shot my own team mates more than a couple of times throughout the night maybe it was less a case of friendly fire and more a case of street justice, airsoft-style. If so, I had it coming. No quarter given, none expected.

The guy who shot me was eliminated shortly afterward and joined me in the staging area where I was holding a bloody handkerchief to my head (head wounds bleed like a stuck pig). He sat down next to me and apologized and admitted it was him who shot me. Maybe it was an accident, maybe it wasn't. Maybe he saw me bleeding all over the place and felt guilty. Either way, I accepted his apology. It's all part of the game and if I'd had my head covered up it would have stung but not cut (it wasn't the first headshot I copped that night), so it's as much my fault as anyone else.

A few people on the other team seemed to have money to burn the way they were almost constantly shooting on full-auto, literally hosing down the barrier you were hiding behind. You could pop out and try to hit them with a brief burst but the constant rattle of bb's against the plyboard sounded painful, and discouraging (it made you unhappy ;)

Then there were the barrel-mounted ultra-bright LED flashlights, which seemed intended more to blind you, the target, than illuminate the area.

Given this unsportsmanlike behaviour, is it any surprise that I suspect a couple of them were also not calling themselves out when hit? And apparently I wasn't the only one thinking this.

One of the Officials mentioned to Mike and me when we sat out one game that they had a "Throw your team mate under the bus" policy, where if you ratted out a cheating player and the Refs caught him cheating you got a free Pass for another night. The only reason I can think of for why he'd mention this is that even he & the Refs suspected some players were cheating, they just hadn't been able to catch them.

On the way home the boys also said there were people not calling themselves out. That they'd shot people who just kept on playing. Mike (a 15-year airsoft veteran) said when that happens you just keep shooting at them until they do. I said I would have done that...if I hadn't been hit myself :P

Despite the possible cheaters and the head wound (which occurred during one of the last games of the night) I still had a great time, more importantly so did my son. His vest blocked a potential nut shot in one game, but in another he got hit multiple times in the upper arm and wound up with a bruise. Despite that, and the possible cheating, he still insisted he enjoyed himself and still wants to play again. I think I may have created a little monster there, too ;)

Airsoft

Sunday afternoon I visited the local airsoft arena with my son and a few of our friends. The boys went in first while I stayed outside and tried to take a couple of photographs through the observer's window. Although visibility through the plexiglass window was good, the photos themselves came out blurred and foggy.
When the staff saw me trying to take photographs they offered to let me go into the staging area for a better view but asked I sign a liability waiver first. I also had get clearance from the wife because the camera I was using, a Nikon D40, is actually her camera. Surprisingly, she allowed me to take her camera into the staging area. Not surprisingly however, I was threatened with consequences worse than death should anything happen to her baby, and I don't mean our son ;)

Unfortunately, while I was able to get better photos from the staging area, I was restricted to the staging area, and once my son and friends advanced further into the arena my view was obstructed by the maze of plywood walls.

After a couple of games there was a brief break, and at that point one of the Referees asked if I wanted to accompany him up onto his Referee's platform so I could get an even better view of what was going on. Duh! Of course I did!

From my raised vantage point midfield I now had a great view, although my son was still frequently disappearing behind the plywood walls which made getting pictures of him a hit & miss affair. But when I realized that by focusing on him I was giving away his position and increasing his risk of being shot I stopped looking for him and just took pictures of anyone and everyone.

With folks running around all over the place I tried taking a few photos using the D40's "action" mode but they didn't come out too well, and after noticing the quality of "action" shots I switched the camera back to Auto and just let rip. And that's the beauty of a digital camera; you can take hundreds of photos then delete the ones that don't turn out, because if you take enough photos odds are you're going to get some gems, and I believe I did.

This was probably my favourite pic of the day. These two guys both knew the other was there and this was an exciting "duel" to watch from above as they each tried to get the drop on the other without getting shot themselves; I can only imagine how intense it must have been for them. Later, I would find out just how heart-pounding such a moment could get.

The Referees themselves were armed, and they were occasionally shooting at the players. Sometimes they did so to check if that particular player was honest and would call themselves out, other times it was to get their attention if they were doing something wrong, such as continuing to shoot at a "dead" player who was leaving the arena. The Refs also occasionally took potshots at each other, and the Ref on my platform quickly realized the advantage of having a photographer with him and used me as a human shield...which is probably why the other Ref later asked me to join him on his platform. He said I could get a different viewpoint but I think he wanted his own time with the human shield ;)

Not intending to play I'd dressed light, in t-shirt and jeans, and at one point I got hit in the shoulder. If you imagine someone giving you a solid flick with their fingernail, that's what it felt like. A stinging impact followed by a minute or two of dull ache, and then you forgot about it.

So why are these guys wearing vests, helmets, gloves, etc?
When my son played last year at his cousin's birthday party one of the kids came back with a cut on his finger while another had a cut on his arm. If I could be stuffed doing the math (and I probably will at some point) a 6mm plastic ball traveling at 300-350 feet per second probably creates a considerable amount of impact pressure (pounds per square inch, and all that) so yeah, it's going to hurt, and if you're not protected skin can be broken...as I would soon find out ;)

After spending most of the evening taking photographs I rejoined my son and friends in their locker room and told them as it was getting late we could only stay for one more set of games. My friend, Mike, threw me a spare vest and an MP5K (he shoots a lot and has a ton of gear), and told me to suit up because I wasn't leaving without playing. I pulled the vest on over my t-shirt, tied a bandana around my neck, and put on my gloves (I'm a Boy Scout, I'd come prepared, even if I didn't intend to play ;) and hit the staging area, this time armed with something packing a little more punch than a camera.

In our first game Mike told me to stick close to him, which didn't work too well. While following Mike and trying to cover his back I felt several bb's impact the front of my vest while someone else shot me from behind. That last bb zipped in beneath my vest & t-shirt but above the waist of my jeans. Yeah, it stung, and I was pretty sure it had left a mark. (It did. Meh.)

"Hit!" I called out, holding my gun up, and I walked off the field followed by Mike, because whoever shot me had got him, too.

"I didn't even see where they came from!" I exclaimed to Mike.

"That's usually how it goes," he replied.

In the second game I again got eliminated, but this time at least I not only saw my opponents but even got off a couple of shots. Unfortunately they were camped in corner of their base, behind cover, and they proved to be a little more accurate than me, with a single shot impacting the front of my vest.

"Hit!" I called out again, and as I passed the guy that nailed me added, "Good shot!"

It just so happened that these guys were camped right next to the staging area, where the "dead" players retired to, and when I looked around I noticed Mike and I were the only ones from our team. Both our sons were still out there.

The guys that took me out were behind an L-shaped obstacle on my left. They were protected from the front, and from the arena wall on their left, but despite their cover being an "L" their right flank was slightly exposed to anyone approaching from the right-hand side along the rear wall...which is where my son was coming from.

I don't know if our sons planned it, or if it was just good timing, but as Mike's son attacked from the front and drew their fire my son came in from the side to outflank them, and from about 30 feet away he picked off the tallest of the two kids. I know it was my son who got him because he stopped firing and looked to his right, directly at my son, then he held his gun up in the air and stepped back toward the staging area.

The other kid also turned and looked to the right, and seeing that my son was the more immediate threat turned to shoot at him instead. My little warrior backed up and dodged sideways, not making himself an easy target, all the while returning fire. Accurate fire at that, because his opponent quickly stopped shooting, threw his gun up in the air, and with that the Ref blew his whistle to end that match.

My son had just eliminated the last two opponents. It might sound a little macho, a little barbaric even, but I was SO proud of him.

The final game of the series the Refs told us would be a little different. We're going to turn out the lights occasionally, they said, and when they're out you can move but you cannot shoot.

Again I went out with Mike, this time being a lot more cautious, and when the lights went out it was nerve wracking. I lost Mike when the lights went out for the second time and found myself mid-field. Realizing I was standing between our opponent's base and a single piece of plyboard against the side of the arena wall I quickly ducked back around the plyboard, back on our side, backed into the corner, and crouched down.

Barely seconds later a figure appeared from behind the board from where I'd just came, walked across in front of me, then leaned against the edge of a "house" to look down toward our end of the field.

With my heart racing I pointed my MP5K at his back and tried to breathe as quietly as possible. He was just 5-to-6 feet away, too close to shoot; at that distance the in-house rules required me to order him to "surrender". I waited, ready for the lights to come back on

The lights stayed off.

The guy ducked inside the "house" and disappeared from view.

The lights stayed off.

Another figure appeared from my left. Another opponent. Déjà vu.

And just as his teammate who came before him this second guy also leaned against the "house" while looking down towards our end of the field. Just as before I tried to keep my breathing low & slow as I pointed my MP5K at this guy's back, and again I waited for the lights to come back on.

The lights stayed off.

This second guy also ducked into the "house".

The lights came back on.

I jumped up, took a couple of quick steps to the doorway of the "house" and peered in. The two guys were both looking the other way, covering each other's flank, but neither guy was covering their rear.

Holding my MP5K more like I would my Beretta 96G than an actual rifle I took aim and double-tapped the guy on the left. Both guys turned at the sound to look behind them as I swung my MP5K and took aim at the second guy.

Should I order him to Surrender? Hell no. At this range it wasn't expected, and I offer no quarter and expect none in return. A second double tap and both guys were now "dead" and we all knew it.

As they raised their guns over their heads and started down toward the staging area I turned and rushed toward the back corner where I knew the remainder of their team were most likely camping, just as they had done in the earlier games.

And I was right.

I came out on the top left of the arena and saw three players camped behind a barrier on the far right hand side and we began exchanging fire across the 50-60 foot gap. Large enough distance to see the bb's flying back and forth, not enough to be able to dodge them.

One of the trio held up his rifle, hit, and emerged from behind the barrier to walk toward me. I have no idea why he came my way instead of down the wall back toward the staging area. The other two guys held their ground and I continued to fire. I may have hit the "dead" guy a couple more times as I shot at the two who were still "alive". Not intentionally, but at that distance bb's can curve through the air from the original point of aim. I was also looking at him as he walked toward me and in doing so I might have inadvertently aimed at him.

Then my MP5K started making a different sound; a louder popping noise which I knew meant no bb's. Mike's clip for this rifle had two clips side-by-side. Was the first one empty? I ducked back into cover, ejected the magazine, spun the dial on the bottom to "load" the second clip, slammed it home, then resumed firing.

POP! POP! POP!

What the...?

I ducked back into cover. Ejected the magazine and shook it. Rattle rattle rattle. There were bb's inside. I spun the dial some more, reinserted the magazine and fired into the wall directly in front of me. If a bb came out and bounced off the wall I didn't notice it. Seriously???

Then a Ref's whistle blew and when I stood up I saw Mike's helmet appear on their flank. I'd actually seen Mike earlier, but by drawing my opponents' attention and their fire I'd provided Mike with the opportunity he needed, and he'd taken it. Game over, we'd won.

My heart was racing like after an open world PvP encounter, and why wouldn't it be? This was PvP IRL.

I fear I may have unleashed a monster. No, that's not true; I don't fear it. I welcome it, and I think I'm going to like it :)

Deep thought

Normally my kids spend the weekends with their grandparents but this past weekend they stayed with us. The grandparents also take them to Church, so Saturday evening my daughter asked me if we were going to Church the next day. "Do you want to?" I asked her. "Yes, please!" she squealed excitedly. And so Sunday morning off we went, just the two of us.

When she asked why her brother wasn't coming I told her he didn't want to, and that he should go to Church because he wants to, not because someone else wants him to. Which is why I don't go to Church every week, either.

The funny thing with my Church is when I do go, the Minister's message seems to have been written specifically for me, almost as if it was divine providence that I attended that day (that's if you believe in that sort of thing).

And this day was no exception.

The first time I heard Luther Vandross' "Dance with my father" was in 2005, the year both Vandross and my own father passed away, and this Sunday, by coincidence (or was it?) the Minister used this song as the basis for his sermon. Needless to say I had tears running down my cheeks before he'd finished, and once again I felt as if wasn't there that day by mere chance.

This afternoon while walking from my office to the train station I passed a couple standing on the sidewalk staring forlornly at a parking meter. As I walked by I recalled that morning feeling change in my trouser pocket, and I patted my hip; yes, the coins were still there. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two quarters, looked at them, then turned back and said to the couple, "excuse me, would you folks be needing some change?"

They gratefully accepted the coins, and thanked me as they inserted them into the meter, and I wished them a good day and resumed walking to the train station.

At the last intersection before the station I waited to cross the road and watched as my train pulled into the station. "Guess I'm waiting for the next one," I thought to myself.

The light changed and I walked across the road.

And up the ramp to the platform.

And...the train remained in the station.

Expecting the train to pull out the moment I started to run I casually walked through the gate and swiped my Rail Card.

And then, as if Gandalf himself was urging me to "Run, you fools!" I started running.

And as I slipped into the last carriage and took a seat the doors closed and the train pulled out.

Coincidence? Karma? Providence? You decide.