Graduation Time

How many of my friends have kids graduating this week?

JKE elementary graduation ceremony 2019. dances, certificates, speeches and videos.
The tropical-theme graduation event at the elementary school.

Everyone knows kids grow up to fast, but there are events that hammer those moments home like a Monty Python fish-slap to the face.

Graduation from Elementary school is such an event. It was a big moment for The-Youngest, for sure, and the-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World and I wouldn’t have missed The-Youngest’s graduation ceremony for all the chocolate in Switzerland. In a way, I think it was as much a moment for us as him.

It’s a massive transition from being a kid to becoming an adult.

You can see it in the way the girls dress, many having had their hair professionally done and nearly all wearing nice dresses and make-up (or as one of the boys remarked, they have powder all over their faces!)

The boys, however, mostly remained delightful goobers, more interested in running around, jumping on things and yelling at each other than wearing nice clothes. To be fair, most of their parents dressed them well, most even had their hair combed and a few, just a few, had shaved. This is all before girls become critical to their existence, before career choices must be made in high school and before all those hormones turn them into surly, distant aliens from planet Your-not-the-boss-of-me.

The event had a theme, of course. A tropical theme. There would be baby pictures (so The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World brought extra Kleenex), the teachers would give a few speeches, and at some point, their graduation certificates would be given out. Then there would be a dance. With at least one terrifying slow dance.

Being me, I filmed everything. Being me, I watched how the kids became more and more nervous or excited, unable to sit still or be quiet. Being me, I marveled at how smoothly the whole process went (and yes, they had practiced it before so it WOULD run smoothly).

I didn’t tear up when the baby pictures were shown, a contrast of what they’d looked like 12 years ago vs what they look like now. I didn’t tear up when they had a very cool presentation about camp. I didn’t even tear up when The-Youngest marched up on stage. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World had, by now, gone through two Kleenex packages.

What got me, and got me hard, was when he came off the stage and I realized how much he’d grown. Not in height, though he was now racing to be as tall as his mom, but how he was growing into a great adult.

At adult parties, he now stuck out his hand and introduced himself. When confronted with a friend who’d been mean to him, he said, “We’ll make up so that last day can still be special.” He mows a neighbour’s lawn who cannot mow the lawn for herself. He makes sure he’s the best host when his friends come over. He knows when his mom needs a hug, or when she needs a good cuddling.

He’s becoming aware of the world around in him, of how he can impact his world for good or bad, and of what amazing opportunities await him.

That’s when I lost it, big fat, wet tears sliding down my cheeks.

Not sad tears.

They were tears of pride.

Remind me of that when I’m nagging him for 900 hours straight to get his homework done!

Thanks for reading the blog about graduation, and if you like what you read, please call someone, write a letter to a publisher telling them they need to buy my book, or simply follow me here, or on FB here or here.

Father’s Day Done Right

What is the greatest gift you can get on Father’s Day?

playing the board game, pandemic on Father's Day at Mr. Mikes.
Getting ready to play the board game Pandemic on Father’s Day

I think every dad has a different idea of what makes the BEST Father’s Day: fishing, bowling, golfing, camping, whiskey, strippers… but for me, it’s playing a game with my family.

So, this year, I chose for forgo presents, dinner, and whiskey to play a game.

See, I love to play games. Risk. Life. Chess. Apples To Apples. Catan. But the games I love the most are the cooperative ones. D&D is such a game, where a group gathers to overcome obstacles by working together, but I would have more luck getting The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World to shave her head than play that game, so I found another one. Pandemic.

There’s a cool video on the game below, but basically, 2-4 players must cure 4 plagues before they become pandemics and wipe out the world. We either all win together, or we lose together.

It’s a cool life lesson.

Now the challenge was that we had never played this game before. None of us.

In a perfect world, the boys would have learned the rules but that was a bridge too far, sort of like getting your dog to write letters to the editor complaining about lack of fire hydrants. So I did what you do these days – I watched YouTube videos.

After about an hour of watching tutorials and gamers gaming, I was ready, more or less. It looked simple enough, but the devil, as they say, is in the details. Basically, you win by defeating the 4 diseases, but you could lose if you run out of territory cards, if you run out of disease counters, or the outbreaks become so many that they overwhelmed the world.

Whew. I’d never played a game with so many ways to lose.

We drove down to Mr. Mikes, where they encourage you to play games, and set up the board. The manager came over immediately, excited by our choice and after we told him this was our first time playing Pandemic, he told us to get him ANYTIME you have a question.

That was cool. Plus, Mr. Mikes has the Mike burger and that’s one of my favourite burgers (mostly based on my childhood, where a visit to Mr. Mikes was, at least for us, 5 star dining!)

The game began well enough and we pounced on the diseases sprouting up around the world like Harvey Weinstein pounces on vulnerable women. We even managed to eradicate one, and stop numerous outbreaks from spreading too far.

The-Youngest was amazing, often thinking 2-3 moves ahead, but in the end, we ran out of territory cards, and lost. I see this as running out of resources, like suddenly someone defunds the program and starts up a starbucks somewhere.

But I had a ton of fun. Not sure everyone else did, but they were troopers and had done something that 2 of 4 didn’t particularly enjoy.

It was a great Father’s Day!

But to answer the question posed in the first sentence, the greatest Father’s Day gift that can be given is not playing a game.

No.

It’s the gift of time. It is the most precious commodity we possess, the only one that matters in the long run.

Father’s Day was the best because 3 people gave their time to me so I could have some fun. How awesome is that?

Advice from a Stepdad on Father’s Day

Things they do not tell you about being a stepdad

So, I’ve been a stepdad for about 5 years now, and I have some observations I’d like to share… the top 5 things that no one will tell you about being a stepdad.

  1. As a stepdad, you start to worry a lot more. For me, this has led to more grey hair, a weird twitch in my eye when I hear a siren and the boys aren’t home, and (best of all), a massive worry-line in the middle of my forehead. It’s a line soooo deep that I can hold a fork in it. Without even being stressed.

I worry about their safety, their health, their happiness. I worry if they’ll make friends, if they’ll make good friends, if they’ll find a girl (or guy) at some point who will love them the way they deserve to be loved.

I worry about if they’re eating right, if they’re watching too much YouTube, if they’re becoming more like a robot than a human. I worry if they’ll be able to afford to buy a house in Greater Vancouver, if they’ll be destroyed when AI takes over the world, or if they’ll drown when the polar ice caps on mars melts.

In other words, I worry a lot. There’s a 24-page list. Single spaced. 10.5 font. As a stepdad, you will be exhausted … like Fred Flintstone working as a Bronto-crane operator at the Slate Rock and Gravel Company kind of tired.

2. After a full day with the boys (and remember, I don’t even work), I can literally pass out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey clutched in my trembling hands. Ok, the bottle is a lie, but the rest is true.

A day of taking one biking, another to music, of cooking supper and forcing one of them to do homework, and listening to the other play the piano and trying to get them to reveal intimate details of their life so I can blog out them, well, yes, it takes it out of me.

I totally get why having kids at 25 is a great idea. At 55, gosh, it’s tough.

3. As a stepdad, you will discover that you are not a god.

This came as a big surprise to me. I so wanted to be god-like, for little faces to look up to me and soak up all my vast stores of knowledge, to listen to my every word like I was a YouTuber or a rapper or sit in awe as I pontificate about history, philosophy, tanks, or politics.

Instead, I’ve had to reset my expectations.

Now, I’m insanely excited if they ask me about the weather.

4. Being a stepdad is COMPLETELY different from being Uncle-Joe. Uncle Joe never had to get someone to bed who didn’t want to go to bed. Uncle Joe never had to nag someone to finish a project or threaten to take away electronic time. Uncle Joe never had to explain what an erection is or what to do about bullies.

Uncle Joe had an amazing life of giving out ice cream, of taking kids mini-golfing, or showing them how He could leave whenever things got, to quote The-Oldest “Real”. Being Uncle Joe was easy. Being stepdad Joe, a lot harder!

5. There’s a ton of stuff that you will do that you will not want to do as a stepdad, but you will do it anyway. I’m not talking about changing diapers, I missed that fun, but other stuff that’s hard.

I mean, honestly listening to a grade 4 band play something is like having someone stick a screeching cat in your ear, then set it on fire. But at least the grade 4s playing their little hearts out has a cuteness factor.

Being a baseball scorekeeper or hockey treasurer, well, that’s just pure stress that you take on for no other reason than you have to do it. Or the pure joy of getting up at 5am to take a boy to a practice then driving back to get something he forgot. Or the racing to the school after a terrifying call that you need to be in the principal’s office NOW!

Fun times. Yes.

*****

So, yeah, those are some of the things they don’t tell you about being a stepdad or stepmom or hell, just a parent in general.

teaching the boys about chess

But here’s the deepest truth of all – being a stepdad, even a massively flawed one, has given my some of the greatest experiences of my life, and watching the boys grow from little goobers to decent, amazing men is something I wouldn’t trade for all the chocolate in the world.

Honestly, it’s the last thing no one tells you about – All those things above pale in comparison to the joy of being a stepdad.

Thanks for reading the blog and if you like what you read, please call someone, write a letter to a publisher telling them they need to buy my book, or simply follow me here, or on FB here or here.

Top 10 Dungeons and Dragons Lessons Learned

D&D players handbook
D&D players handbook
Dungeons and Dragons Player’s Handbook is a great place to start to learn the game

One of the best things about running a Dungeons and Dragons adventure is never, ever being able to predict how a group of characters will react to any given situation.

However, some things should have been predictable. Here are my top 10 Dungeons and Dragons lessons learned about running adventures for 12-year-olds.

  1. They need a mentor non-player character to help them out, to inspire them in some cases, to guide them to their next adventure, and to explain what may or may not work, without taking them out of the story. It’s why Gandalf is there with the hobbits, why Moiraine arrives to talk to Rand Al’Thor, why Dumbledoor advises Harry Potter. I goofed that one up.
  2. They are completely uninterested in learning about the backstories of the people in the world, the politics in the town, or the greater world as a whole. Maybe this will change, since a ton of stuff was thrown at them on the first day, but right now, it’s ‘where do I have to go and what do I have to kill?’
  3. Sugar intake control is vital to playing a successful game. Too much too soon, and they become like Vikings bent on looting and pillaging everything in sight. Or, to use the new Dungeon and Dragon adventure terms, they become murder hobos. Kill everything. Take everything.
  4. Fighting rats is not fun. Gosh, why didn’t I see that one earlier. Sure, they are tough, and, statistic-wise, a pretty good challenge, but who wants to go home talking about killing rats. To be fun, the players needed to overcome something with swagger, something they can brag about, something larger than life. Doh!
  5. To simulate healing potions, I bought small vials, washed them thoroughly, and filled them with Gatorade. When the boys had to heal themselves from wounds in battle, I thought, hey, wouldn’t it be cool to have them drink the Gatorade vials? However, what I should have foreseen is that they like Gatorade and so would take damage just so they could drink the Gatorade. (sigh)
  6. Never let the characters damage each other. In the game, when the players roll a ‘1’, something bad happens, but if you let that ‘something bad’ be hit another player, then that player wants revenge and pretty soon they’re swinging swords at each other. It’s funny, for a second, then the whole party dies and everyone is mad at everyone.
  7. A good fart noise goes a longer way with 12-year-olds than with adults. Ok, wait, no, it goes a long way with adults as well…but be careful, if you let one boy make a loud fart noise because one failed ‘1’ roll, then they all start wanting ‘1’s so they can make that noise. Over and over and over and over again… and, perhaps to no one’s surprise, sometimes those noises are not faked. Never make this a farting game. Ever. No.
  8. I stressed and stressed about painting miniatures for the boys. I spent hours making sure their characters looked amazing, but, being nearly blind in my old age, and with shaking hands and a rather feeble ability to paint small things in the first place, I wasn’t able to really do anything to a pro-level (despite watching 200 YouTube videos). However, it didn’t make any difference. The boys were so excited to have painted miniatures of their characters and didn’t care that I’d not been able to paint a microscopic belt buckle.
  9. Food matters. There’s a post on what happens when there’s too much sugar, but not feeding them is a bad idea as well. Balance is the key here, and I don’t mean lots of carrots and celery sticks, no, just better management of pop, chips, candy and, for supper, pizza. Failure to properly control the food results in an alien-like transformation of good kids into scary, drooling monsters.
  10. They knew nothing about the rules but what I told them. I was so used to running dungeons and dragons adventures with people who knew more than I did so I had studied hard for these sessions, but it really wasn’t necessary. So what if I forgot about ‘opportunity attacks?’ So what if I goofed up how minor illusion worked? So what if I didn’t quite get how ‘sneak attack’ works? I will make sure it to make it fun, first and foremost.

Session 3 Dungeons and Dragons Adventure Pt 2

dungeons and dragons fighter bandit
In every Dungeons and Dragons Adventure, there should always be a villain and if there’s a villain, there are henchmen. Meet “Ogre”. A Blackskull thug of great strength and brutality.

The Dungeons and Dragons Adventure was about to come to a head.

Even having seen how well the boys, (Leroy-the-Ranger, Sherlock-the-Wizard, Brad-the-Rogue, and Honor-the-Paladin) had defeated the Blackskulls in the forest or cleared the ancient, dwarven dungeon below his home, Devon the halfling feared they would not be able to defeat the men inside his home. Even with surprise and magic.

All it would take is for one of the evil doers to be alerted to their presence and Devon’s family would die. All it would take was one mistake and the party would be overwhelmed and killed.

Undaunted, Honor eased the trap door into Devon’s home. There was no one in the storage room, though the Blackskulls had drunk all the wine stored there and smashed the bottles. Carefully moving the glass out of the way, the boys entered the room one by one, the smell of stale wine and hops from the barrels of ale heavy in the air. In the distance, they heard singing, and detected the smell of cooking meat.

Quietly, they crept into the next room, a food storage room. Horrifically, the Blackskulls had killed Devon’s dogs, skinned them and strung them up for meat.

Devon’s fear from his family turned to anger. “I’ll kill every one of those bastards,” he vowed, red blotches appearing on his face.

Easing the door to the kitchen open, they saw the singing Blackskull stirring a pot of stew, unaware that the boys had come in through the trapdoor.

They closed the door and came up with a plan. Using Sherlock’-the-Wisard’s illusions, they would distract the Blackskull cook while the sharpshooting Leroy and the deadly archer, Brad, shot him dead.

But like all plans in all dungeons and dragons adventures, it fell apart the moment the door opened.

Sherlock cast his spell, but Leroy-the-Ranger’s shot went wild. As did Brad-the-Rogue’s.  Even with the element of surprise. Even with taking a moment to aim properly. They both missed.

The Blackskull cook turned.

Everything depended now on how quickly the boys could reach the Blackskull cook because if he shouted out a warning, everything would go ‘pear-shaped,’ as my dad used to say.

As fast as he could, Honor-the-Paladin thundered towards the Blackskull cook, while Leroy notched another arrow, Brad ran to stab him and Sherlock cast another spell.

Before the cook could say a word, could even really open his mouth, the boys zerged him and he fell down about as dead as anyone could be dead, stabbed, frozen from a spell, and full of arrows.

It was an impressive takedown that any SWAT guy would have been proud of.

Then they planned an ambush for the others, using an illusionary voice to lure the other guards into the kitchen, shouting, ‘food’s ready!’

It almost worked.

In fact, it would have worked, but as Derrek Quickblade came into the room, two boys hidden under the table, two more hidden in the storage room, he didn’t fall for the illusionary cook by the pot and noticed the blood on the floor.

He drew his sword. He turned to the huge man behind him

“You know why Scar put me in charge, Ogre?”

“You’re a smart one, you is, Derrek. As smart as one of those book readers.”

“Right. We’ve got visitors.”

And, like that, it was on.

The two Blackskulls raced into the room, Ogre raising his huge axe, ready to cleave one of the boys in two, Derrek whirling his blades around like a guy who was seriously comfortable with sharp objects.

Brad, the nearest, dove out from under the table and threw chairs at the giant of a man, Ogre, running as fast as he could away from that axe. Leroy, shifting under the table, aimed and fired at Derrek’s legs, but missed. Honor, seeing his friends in trouble, roared into the room, his sword drawn, his shield at the ready. Behind him, Sherlock began to weave a spell.

dungeons and dragons fighter bandit
Every dungeons and dragons adventure needs a big bad. Meet Derrick Quickblade

Ogre split the table in two as he missed Brad, and Derrek spun away from Leroy to battle Honor. Like two legendary warriors, the two began to fight, Derrek faster than any warrior Honor had ever faced.

Faster. And more deadly.

Within moments, Derrek’s sword danced past Honor’s shield and drove deeply into the Dragonborn paladin, nearly killing him. Staggering back, gritting his sharp dragonteeth, Honor struck back, but Derrek moved with blinding speed, dodging Honor’s blade.

The two battled with brutal intensity, Derrek more skilled, but Honor brave and unyielding.

As the two fought, the last Blackskull ran into the room, but LeRoy spun and put a crossbow bolt in his leg. Brad lept out from under the table, tripped the Blackskull and drove his daggers into the man’s back.

While Honor continued his epic battle against Derrick, the other three heroes focused on the massive man called Ogre who seemed to take every cut from a dagger, every wound from an arrow as if he felt no pain.

Finally, Sherlock was able to get behind him and unleashed a firebolt that caught the man’s fur armor on fire. But even burning, screaming, he fought on like something out of a story told to frighten children,

But in the end, the fire consumed him and he fell to the floor.

With that, the others raced to help Honor, who could barely stand, fighting against Derrick with fury. However, so fast was the fight, the two warriors spinning, dodging, blocking, attacking, that LeRoy couldn’t get a clean crossbow shot and Sherlock’s magic failed to find the mark.

Honor took another terrible blow, Derrek’s sword slicing deep into his side, but he had watched how Derrek moved, learned the man’s martial dance and took the wound, deliberately, so he could get his own opening.

With all his strength, he slashed as Derrek’s leg. A deep, crippling strike.

Derrek staggered. Surprise twisted his face. One hand, instinctively, went to his leg.

And that was when Brad struck, coming in low. One dagger took Derrek in the thigh while the other drove deep into Derrick’s stomach.

Derrek fell to the ground, dying. Pain contorted his face. His hands held onto his stomach.

He looked at Honor and before he died, he said, “You think you have won? Death will not stop us.”Death… is… not… the end.”

The boys had won!

They had beaten the Blackskull thugs and saved the hobbits! They had completed the first chapter in what I had hoped would be an amazing dungeons and dragons adventure.

How little did they know what Derrick said would come back to haunt them?

 

3rd Dungeons and Dragons Session pt 1

D&D, gandalf, balrog

Dungeons and dragons adventures should always be epic, gandalf, balrog
Climaxes have to be epic! In dungeons and dragons adventures, this means more than just giant rats

This session would define the game for a long while.

In video game terms, it was the boss fight. In movie terms, the climax. In Dungeons and Dragons adventures, it’s a moment where failure could mean death.

Led by their halfling guide, Devon, the boys (Leroy-the-Ranger, Sherlock-the-Wizard, Brad-the-Rogue, and Honor-the-Paladin) had entered a secret entrance into Devon’s home. They hoped to save the halfling’s family from villainous villains (called the Blackskulls) who had threatened to murder Devon’s family if Devon didn’t do what they wanted.

Unlike that last adventure, this one started off well enough. With candy under my complete and utter control, I was able to get the boys focused fast.

They made a plan- clear the dungeon, sneak into the hobbit’s home, rescue the innocent. You know, hero stuff.

Unlike the last session, the boys moved quickly, coming under attack by a purple mushroom that killed Sherlock’s familiar, a cat.  Luckily, though, the cat had unlimited lives since it was the ultimate Scholander’s cat, (existing only when called), so no one felt bad for the loss, (though Sherlock did wonder, “does it feel?”)

Using ranged weapons, they shot the unmoving fungus in one of the mushroom-growing rooms so it couldn’t damage them. It was over quickly and they raced further through the underground rooms, only to be surprised by a big ass spider that managed to entrap the powerful Honor-the-Paladin in a sticky web.

With their main fighter trapped in a web, the rogue, Brad, found (much to his horror,) that he was face-to-face with the spider, Brad wearing only light armor and fighting with daggers.

Shaking with fear, he stabbed at spider’s eyes, hoping to blind it and flee. Despite his fear, he wounded the spider badly, making it scream a terrible spider scream, and as it tried to flee away, wounded, blind in one of its many eyes, Leroy-the-Ranger shot it dead with one well-placed crossbow bolt.

They found nothing in the spider’s web, though, except the desiccated bodies of more than a few giant rats. Sherlock-the-Wizard, (knowing alchemy) harvested the spider’s web and its poison glands for future use.

Dwarven runes needing an answer to a riddle to open are fun in dungeons and dragons
A good staple of any dungeon in Dungeons and Dragons adventures is a dwarven riddle door

Then they were confronted by a thick, metal door with Dwarven runes carved onto it.

Translating the runes, they realized it was a riddle, because, you know, dwarves love locking doors with riddles. It’s their thing. That and drinking.

Their guide, Devon thought he knew the answer, but guessed wrong and took a massive jolt of electricity. The boys, however, were smarter.

They read the riddle.

Power enough to smash ships and crush roofs. Yet it still must fear the sun. What is it?

After a few guesses, and using Honor’s resistance to electricity, they solved the riddle and opened the door.

Answer: “ice”

Even their incorrect guesses were good or at least funny: A vampire. Water. Leroy’s pee.

The room beyond the riddle door held a good selection of alchemic supplies, including a book that could teach Sherlock-the-Wizard how to make a potion of climbing and an antidote to some poisons. Sherlock gleefully collected everything and would have read the book had they not been pressed for time –

Who knew how much longer it would be until the evil Blackskulls realized that Devon had betrayed them and murdered his family?

However, the boys were blocked by another riddle door. Who works when he plays and plays when he works?

Without hesitation, they answered ‘a musician’.

And the door opened.

They raced through the room beyond the riddle door, past looted supplies that Devon recognized as belonging to someone in the town, and past the crispy body of a human who had clearly failed to answer the riddle correctly.

They reached the staircase leading up, a rickety thing that Devon had built himself and seemed oddly proud of.

Honor-the-Paladin took the lead, slinging his shield onto his back, and unsheathing his sword. Although the least stealthy of the companions, they feared that if someone was up there, waiting, ready to ambush them, better to have a huge, dragonborn paladin enter the room first.

From Devon, they knew there’d be at least 4 blackskulls inside. Two of them were greatly feared in the village, one a giant of a man called ‘Ogre’ and the leader, a cruel man named Derrick Quickblade.

Honor reached the top of the stairs and reached for the trap door as the rest of the party shifted on the creaking staircase behind him, ready for battle.

Honor eased the trap door open.

The dungeons and dragons adventure will be continued!!!

2nd D&D Session

D&D NPC character

D&D halfling NPC
Devon, their halfling guide.Why would anyone want to kill this cute little guy? 

Phandalin Adventure

Day 2

Once, again, I couldn’t wait to start my D&D adventure with the boys. I’d done my prep, printed out my handout, (even a very cool ‘weathered’ map), and bought enough munchies to feed an army of starving goblins.

But therein lay my first mistake, and it may very well be why this session didn’t go as well as I’d planned.

To recap, they had been told by their hobbit guide, Devon, that bad guys held his family hostage. Now that he told the group about last session’s ambush, he begged the group to help.

But as I set up the music and sorted my paperwork, the boys voiced thoughts of killing their guide, Devon, the one person they were supposed to help!!!

 Why? I have no idea, it seemed to come out of the blue, but then I had to start the session out by telling them what they couldn’t do. Or at least trying to dissuade them for doing something evil.

Then they tore into the candy like rabid dogs. Before their characters even reached the hobbit’s home,  they’d began to vibrate in their seats. Then they bopped up and down in their chairs. Then, I had to take a break so they could literally run around.

It looked like getting them to focus on the game would become, well, a bit of a challenge.

Their mission though was simple enough. Rescue the hobbit’s family by sneaking in via a secret entrance. But, they were told, the evil guys were expecting a rescue and would be watching the doors and windows, ready to kill the hobbit’s family.

Their hobbit guide, Devon, led them to the secret entrance beneath his home, (an old, underground dwarven forge, long abandoned), that the hobbit used to grow mushrooms – Lots of tasty mushrooms fertilized by the finest poo in the county.

Only one problem – The boys didn’t want to do go through the secret passage.

Full of sugar rage, they wanted to charge in and attack the evil, nasty bad guys. No matter who dies!

D&D NPC character
Buttercup, Devon’s oldest child, a girl. Why would they not want to save her?

My hobbit was horrified. His family would die.

However… The boys didn’t care. Like Vikings, they wanted to fight.

NOW!

Battle, battle, battle, battlebattlebattle, BATTLE!

But I, (playing the hobbit), managed to convince them to try to sneak up on the evil, nasty bad guys, and that’s where I made my second mistake.

Running a game like this means you give the players as much leeway as possible to do whatever they want, and I’d railroaded them into going one route.

Had they gone their route, it’s not likely the little hobbits would have lived, and that’s a consequence that maybe they needed to have.

But forcing them to do something makes it harder for them to be invested in the game. However, NOT forcing them would lead to the death of little kids, and in story-telling, that’s a HUGE no-no.

I was in a pickle. Or ,rather, I’d pickled myself.

Not super interested in their choice, it took an hour for the boys to focus on killing 5 giant rats.

An.

Hour.

With their usual outstanding grasp of tactics, they defeated the rats quite quickly once the fight happened, but it soooooo wasn’t exciting for them. I could see that.

As soon as they won, though, they were hit by a sugar crash and acted like slow-motion turtles eating a leaf.

The session ended without a sense of major accomplishment.

That’s never good.

Would they run home and tell their parents, mom and dad, guess what, we killed rats, OMG it was amazeballs, rats, mom, rats. How cool is that?

No. Not cool at all.

Dammit, I’d goofed.

After I dropped them all off back home, I vowed to do better. However, being nearly impossible to predict what would actually happen in any given adventure, all I knew was that I needed to do 3 things better.

  1. I needed to control the sugar intake a LOT more than I did.
  2. I needed to find stuff they would care about, something magical and fun. Not fighting rats.
  3. I needed to create those epic moments they will talk about for weeks. Or at least hours.

Next week would be critical. I had to be a better DM.

 

D&D The Mines of Phandelver pt2

D&D main character

D&D Adventure  – The Bandits

D&D halfling NPC
In D&D, it’s always good to have a guide. In D&D, you can’t trust everyone.

The D&D adventure took on a darker tone.

The 4 boys, Honor-the-Paladin, Brad-the-Rogue, Leroy-the-Ranger, and Sherlock-the-Wizard were on their way to pick up their inheritance. Not far into the journey, though, they realized their guide, the Irish-accented, Devon Havenford was hiding something.

They pressed Devon mercilessly and he confessed that he was to lead them into an ambush. Evil men known as Blackskulls had taken his family hostage – His wife, Daisy (“as beautiful as the flower she was named after”), his children, (Buttons, Brandywine, Barlow, and tiny, wee Buttercup who hasn’t even eaten her first sausage!)

He was to drug them as they slept, then the Blackskulls would come for them.

At first, the boys debated allowing themselves to be captured but realized that presented too many problems and too many consequences they couldn’t predict.

So, they laid their own ambush. Brad-the-Rogue climbed into a tree and took out his bow. Leroy-the-Ranger cranked his crossbow to maximum pain and hid in a thicket. Honor-the-Paladin, pretended to sleep outside the tent. Sherlock-the-Wizard hid behind a rock, and being so small, it wasn’t a particularly big rock.

At a little past midnight, the moon obscured by clouds, the ground wet from a recent shower, Devon added green powder to the fire, signally the boys were subdued. After a few moments, 6 bandits came out of the forest, confident, their clubs or swords held low.

Then the boys struck or at least tried to strike.

Brad-the-Rogue, tried to find a better shot at the bandits, but slipped and fell out of his tree.  Sherlock-the-Wizard forgot which spell to cast.  Hey, it was the first time he’d fought anyone anywhere. It’s understandable.

And Leroy-the-Ranger somehow managed to miss his first shot. He was deeply ashamed.

But Honor-the-Paladin, battle-trained bellowed his defiance and spat lightning at the bandits, (cuz he’s Dragonborn and can do that!). His lightning scorched nearly all the bandits.

The smell of burnt flesh and leather filled the air. So did their screams.

As the bandits tried to sort out what was happening, I mean, this was supposed to be an easy job, just grab a bunch of yahoos and bring them back to the boss, Brad-the-Rogue recovered and shot his first man. He killed one bandit instantly, while Leroy-the-Ranger took very careful aim and shot the bandit leader in the throat with a crossbow bolt. Sherlock-the-Wizard, doing what gnomes do best, created an illusion of a bear beside the bandits.

(Ok, at first he wanted to create an illusion of a rock and throw it at them, then I said, “No, wait, think bigger,” and he said, “Ok, I’m making it a huge boulder.” I laughed. “No. I meant think of something that might scare or distract the bandits.” Hence, the bear).

Surrounded, pelted with arrows, a bear appeared behind them, and still smoking from being hit by a lightning bolt, the bandits reeled, as stunned as the Soviets losing to the Americans in hockey.

Unsure what to do, they did what bandits do, and attacked the only two they could see, Honor-the-Paladin and the quaking Devon-the-Guide.

Devon fled as fast as he could, leaving Honor to stand alone. But Honor was heavily armored and well-trained. With shield and sword and his heavy armor, he blocked every blow, allowing the others to continue to shoot the bandits down.

D&D bandits.
The ambushers got ambushed. D&D bandits were no match for the party

Another fell with a crossbow bolt through his neck. One fell to Brad-the-Rogue’s arrows, one more fell as Sherlock-the-Wizard called magical missiles down upon him, and Honor hewed one in half.

Fearing for his life, the last one tried to leave, but Devon, with a shaking hand, threw his dagger and caught the man in the leg. Stumbling, the bandit couldn’t take two steps before a bolt from Leroy-the-Ranger and an arrow from Brad-the-Rogue sank into his back with sickening thuds.

The boys had won.

Without taking a single wound.

Good lord.

But instead of celebrating Devon, still shaking, stared at the bodies. “We have to get to my family before the Blackskulls realize what’s happened.”

*****

For anyone interested in guides, check out these sites.

Rogue guide

Paladin guide

Ranger

Wizard

D&D The Mines of Phandelver Begins

DD dice
DD dice
Roll a twenty-sided die.
Nothing is more iconic of D&D than that dice.

Sadly, it took a while to get that first D&D adventure going, especially since the boys were new players, and, you know, 12-years-old.

To their credit, the boys didn’t treat all the information thrown at them like a math test, they listened, fidgeted, and looked excited to start.

After introducing them to my D&D world, we reviewed each character’s backstory so that they would know they had a place in the world. They’d created 4 characters. 

Brad the Rogue – He’d done some thiefie stuff, but had felt guilty about it. Super guilty. Like his-mom-would-find-out guilty. He wasn’t so sure he was cut out to be a thief.

Sherlock, a young gnomish wizard – He’d been expelled from the Arcane Academy (Magic School) because they no longer accepted non-humans.

Honor, a Dragonborn paladin –  He’d been sent on a quest by his people to find a lost artifact.  Ok, yes, it’s a sword, but it’s a very cool dragonie sword.

And lastly, Leroy the Ranger- He’d grown up in a forest, alone except for the animals, until the day he made friends with a gnomish wizard who had recently been expelled from the Arcane Academy. Leroy wanted to find the people who’d killed his family (like any good Disney Movie.)

D&D main character
Finster Farstrider, the kindly, old man who’d left his worldly possessions to the boys. A classic D&D start

All knew a kindly old man, named Farstrider.

He had taught the Leroy-the-Ranger languages, social etiquette and made him bathe. 

He was a teacher at the Arcane Academy and told Sherlock-the-Gnomish-Wizard that expulsion was not a bad thing, that the world beyond the walls of academia held more wonder and knowledge than he could possibly imagine.

He’d even written to Honor-the-Paladin, saying he had knowledge of the lost artifact.

And Brad-the-Rogue? Well, he’d taken the boy in off the streets, given him food and books, and taught him languages with an odd young man from the forest. Only to have Brad-the-Rogue steal his magical cloak. And, yes, that was what Brad felt super guilty about.

The boys have inherited a chest and a manor in D&D

The four were brought together not by Farstrider’s good deeds, but rather by his death.

Seems, he’d put them all in a will, and bequeathed to them, a deed to a ruined castle and a chest with all his worldly possessions.

All they had to do was get to his home in a small town.

Easy, right?

Well, no.

Great adventures are born of ‘no.’

The first twist was that they were not the only beneficiaries! One of them didn’s show up, a woman named Elerra-the-Demonbound. But with a name like that, well, maybe it was better if she didn’t show up. What kind of terrible monster would she be?

However, their guide, a nervous halfling named Devon Havenford seemed very determined to get moving and moving fast. “Not a lot of love for us in Haven, boyos, best we get out of the city as fast as we can.” So they left without Elerra-the-Demonbound, hoping she’d catch up.

So, with sun high in autumn’s harsh blue sky, they began to march northward, the traffic light, the rank smell of the city fading behind them. As farmland turned into lightly wooded hillside, the trees burning with fall colors, they passed a large troop of the All-father’s Red Legion. The soldiers marched in perfect lock-step, their red cloaks billowing in the light wind, their weapons and armor shining.  As they marched past the group, one called them “abominations!” another shouting “Your time will come, monsters!”

Despite what the boys felt, despite what Honor-the-Dragonborn-Paladin wanted to do, they chose to ignore the insults and continued on. Maybe one day, as seasoned heroes, they could take on 50 skilled soldiers, but now was not the time.

They had made the right choice. The only choice.

At camp, with the fire crackling and Devon cooking his weight in sausages, they noticed he wouldn’t meet their eyes and, after supper, chewed on his fingernails like he meant to gnaw them to the bone.

They tried to find out why, but he told them, “Not a fan of the woods, you see. Tis too many bad things in the woods, you see. Too many.”

But Brad-the-Rogue, a smart reader of people, knew that to be a lie.

The next night, with Leroy-the-Ranger roaming the woods looking for herbs to make Sherlock-the-Wizard’s potions, Brad-the-Rogue and Honor-the-Paladin pressed the halfling relentlessly.

Being a good person, not able to keep the terrible secret inside, the Halfling cracked under the questioning. “Listen, I didn’t have no choice, you understand, no choice at all. They have me wife and children. I had to do what they told me to do.”

“What was that?” Honor-the-Paladin demanded.

(D&D Adventure to be continued…..)

*******

Our D&D characters

Honor – Dragonborn Paladin. Very scary looking. 

Brad Armpit – half-elf rogue. Nice guy, but watch your purse.

Leroy – Human ranger, crazy good with his crossbow, but about lacking social skills.

Sherlock – Gnome wizard, small but full of energy and a bright desire to learn.

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1st Day of D&D

The D&D 5e Adventure Begins!

I hide behind this D&D screen.
Their quest – the chest.

The D&D day had finally arrived.

I picked up the four boys after school and brought them to our place. The-Youngest and I had transformed the rec room into the new D&D room. We had chips for them. We had pop and candy. We had chairs that weren’t going to collapse and The-Youngest had taped off areas on the table so everyone knew how far they could spread their stuff out.

We were about as ready as possible.

When the boys arrived, I had to let them settle down. 12-year-olds have energy I can only remember, that kind that makes it impossible to sit still, to not talk quickly and loudly, or focus on any one thing. It was awesome to see, actually. That energy meant they were excited

After a short while, they calmed down a bit.

D&D, being a complex game with many, many rules, created my first challenge. We’d gotten together before this first session to roll up characters, (a ranger, wizard, a paladin, and a rogue), so we didn’t have to do that, but there was still stuff they needed to know if they were to play.

To speed things along, I filled out their character sheets and reviewed changes. (For the nerdy folks, that means weapons and damage, armor and armor class, skill bonuses and equipment).

Their miniatures were given out and they were wow’d. I’m not a super good miniature painter, but having a little rogue, ranger, paladin and gnome made the game come alive.

From there, like any good film, we started with the big picture. Let us begin with the world. So let us start there.

The realms are at peace, a peace that has lasted eighty years. The Six kingdoms are united under the All-father, the king of kings, an undying ruler who governs with benevolent grace, bringing prosperity and harmony to all the peace-loving people of the land.

Or at least that’s what has been taught in the schools, in the cathedrals of the Holy Light, and in the great halls and homes of men.

But ask the Dwarves, at what price did this peace come, their kingdoms smashed, their once-proud nation reduced to clan-enclaves in mountains or crafting halls in the hills and towns?

Ask the elves when men came to cut down the trees for lumber, when they slaughtered the fey and treants out of fear, and then when the Elves fought back, burned the elven treehomes.

Ask the Halflings why they are wanderers or relegated to the poor quarters, thought of only as dirty thieves and bringers of bad luck. Ask them if they know peace.

Indeed, if you are not of mankind, you might have an entirely different opinion of this peace and prosperity. 

After conquering the last kingdom, the All-father destroyed the old orders, tore down ancient fortresses, built churches of the Holy Light in every village, and set up puppet rulers to govern his lands. While most of the conquered kingdoms fell into line, the last Kingdom never fully bowed to the All-father’s will, and nearly a year, ago, as repression became harsher and harsher, many of the old races united to rebel.

Against the All-father, against his Red Legions and Wizards of Flame, against the martial might of the Order of the Holy Light, they didn’t have a chance. They were slaughtered.

After the rebellion, the Purity Laws came into effect. No non-human could hold a position in government, could not attend any of the Arcane Academies, and could not hold title to land. Travel was restricted and there are rumors that the All-father may soon offer a bounty on non-humans.

It is into this world that our players find themselves.

Thus began the adventure for the boys.

  • Sherlock – a gnomish wizard.
  • Leroy the Ranger.
  • Brad Armpit the rogue.
  • Honor the Dragonborn paladin.

 

 

 

Playing D&D Part 1

The First Great D&D Adventure

All players need a place to start

I don’t think anyone in the universe prepared for a first adventure as much as I did.

I won’t lie, I was nervous about running a pack of 12-year-olds through a 5E D&D adventure.  I hadn’t played this new-fangled version of the game, and being a DM (the guy who ran the game) meant I had to know my rules.

So, being me, I turned to the internet and found a great collection of YouTube videos on line that taught me the rules and gave me some advice on DMing.

Gosh, there was so much that was new, but after 2 weeks, I felt like I had a handle on most of the rules and I wasn’t shy about making it up if worse came to worse.

All I had to do was make it fun.

Easy, right?

Well…. Not always.

Now, for those few people who have never played D&D, the basics are actually pretty simple. It’s a table-top role-playing game, played in person, with real people sitting next to you and tossing Doritos at you. To quote the designers of the game, “The core of D&D is storytelling. You and your friends tell a story together, guiding your heroes through quests for treasure, battles with deadly foes, daring rescues, courtly intrigue, and much more.”

One person ‘runs’ the game. That’s the Dungeon Master or DM. That’sa me. It’s my job to make sure the players have fun. I’m the guy behind the curtain (or in this case, the DM screen.)

And those are the critical words there. Have. Fun.

It’s not a game that pits one player against another like Risk. No, it’s cooperative, and that’s what can make it so much fun, but if the DM sucks or has to spend a ton of time looking stuff up, no amount of great story-telling will make it fun. It’ll be a disaster.

See, the stakes were high for me. I really wanted the boys to like D&D, to play it for years, maybe even meet their love of their life while playing, and form nerdy friendships that last forever. Heck I met my first wife, Margot, and my best friend through D&D.

I know I set a high bar for myself, but for me, I’d been known as a good DM 400 years, ago, so I wanted to keep my rep intact.

So, like I said, I prepared. (NERD WARNING!) I bought a DM screen, printed out maps, made maps on graph paper, created character backstories, researched all the character’s abilities, finished off the boys’ character sheets, made initiative cards, found pictures of the monsters and characters, made monster cards, made ‘condition’ cards, bought miniatures for each boy, painted the hell out of them, sealed them with indestructible sealant, made potions from bottles bought by my friend and fellow nerd, Sheila. I bought coins to be used as special tokens, I bought trees that could be used on the tabletop. I wrote out a world history, a local history and even, whew, a history of one of the pivotal non-player characters.

I even read through the Monster manual to find the best monsters for them to fight, read through the DM guide to find the perfect treasure rewards, and bookmarked the Player’s Handbook, so I could find things quickly.

OMG.

I bought snacks, set up a table, moved all my D&D books to our new D&D rec room, set up lamps for better light, moved my painted minis to a shelf in the D&D rec room, fixed chairs that were broken, found more miniatures to use as villains, printed out pictures of all the non-player characters so the boys could put a face to a name, and found a jewelry chest that would remind players what their goal was.

Ready to go! Got my minis. Got my Rubbermaid container of dice. Got my character cheat sheets.

Yes. I had prepared. I wanted to have a lot of visual aids because I felt the boys wouldn’t be keen on me talking for hours about a chest or the world or Buttons the halfling. I wanted them to see the battle, not just imagine it, to move their miniatures through a forest to fight the evil Blackskulls who terrorized the area. When they went to drink a potion of healing, I wanted there to be a potion that they actually drank.

After all, these boys were coming from Fortnite, GTA or Assassin’s Creed. They had been brought up on visuals so I needed to make it as visual as possible. Heck, if I could have programmed holographic maps with 3D characters, I would have done so.

But after two weeks of preparation, would it all pay off? Had I been overthinking this? (not that I ever do that.) Would the boys have fun? Would they become life-long players?

Well, at the risk of creating a spoiler, let me just say that, as if typical when you design and run an adventure, nothing quite goes as planned.

So, hey, if you want to check out more pictures, see the instagram account or check out the pinterest page.

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A Return to D&D

I Have Returned

It’s been 30 years since I played D&D, but when my best friend’s daughter asked me to join her game, I thought, should I embrace my nerdiness, again, put on my wizard’s cloak, take out my wand of magic missiles and join her group?

I won’t lie. I was hesitant.

A part of my reluctance was tangled up in my past. I’d met my first wife, Margot, while playing D&D and we used to game a lot when we were young. Those should be good memories, but as with much of my past life, there is so much pain there that I wasn’t sure I could return to D&D and not feel overwhelming sadness, the type that makes it hard to get out of bed, makes it hard to even breathe.

But what if I could get past that, what if I could turn those memories into happy ones, again?

The other part of my reluctance was, ok, let’s be honest, D&D is kind of nerdy. Maybe, like, very, very nerdy.

However, at some point, you just have to be who you really are. A Maple Leaf fan? Don’t hide it (I mean, don’t brag about it either, but don’t hide it.) Someone who loves dancing-musicals? Great. Bring out those Gene Kelly movies. Love collecting WWE dolls, oh, sorry, figurines?  Well, fondle the Rock all you want. Embrace who you are, write it in your secret diary, put it on your resume, confess it to your significant other.

It’s okay. We are in the age of acceptance. Plus, it’s almost, dare it say it, cool.

But how is THAT possible, you ask? How?

Well, the success of shows like Game of Thrones helped, but one of the biggest reasons kids are discovering D&D is Stranger Things. If you haven’t seen it, well, yeah, see it, it’s outstanding story-telling, but the kids in it play D&D.  They fight monsters together, both in game and in their story, and they find that without each other, they would all be doomed.

Victory!

They seem to be having fun.

What? Fun without a TV? Without leaping from a bus above an island and landing to murder people?

Yes. Fun.

Then there’s the explosion of podcasts. Critical Role is, at least in my warped mind, the best of the lot, but there are many, many to choose from now. Critical Role, though, brought a bunch of voice actors together and, led by the incredible Matt Mercer, took on Grey Dwarves, Mind Flayers and evil demons, making it all seem like …dare I say it?… fun.

Heck, there are even cool, studly guys like Vin Diesel playing (that look like how I imagine I look in real life), and even at the hockey rink, dads are confessing to have once played back in the day. Could it be that D&D was now socially acceptable?

Judd Nelson at his best, Breakfast Club.
Still relevant today.

In the end, I decided to give it a try, again.

So if you ever played, and I know a lot of you did, come out of the closet. It’s ok. You’re cool now. (Or if not exactly ‘cool’, at least accepted.)

And hey, if you like what you’re seeing, like D&D, want to convert people into nerds or simply love Judd Nelson, share or like on Facebook, twitter, or the blogosphere.

Driving Mr. Daisy

What The-Oldest is thinking.

One of the great events in our early lives is learning to drive. Driving equals independence. It’s a milestone in life.

And it’s something that can drive parents crazy.

It’s all because we think, gosh, we can teach our child to drive. We’re good drivers, right? We’ve been doing it for years, right? We love our child so we will teach him with patience and understanding how to drive a car, right? Right?

Oh, how we forget what it was like when we learned to drive.

I remember being so excited about driving that when I turned 16, I immediately went down to get my licence and began bugging mom to teach me to drive. However, this was back in the Flintstone era when there weren’t such things as L’s or N’s or seatbelts or internal combustion engines.

However, I learned quickly, as did my mom, that she should not be teaching me. Not that she was a bad driver per se, but more like one of us would end up having a nervous breakdown. Speed up, slow down, hand over hand, check the rear view mirror, shoulder check, look out for that little old lady crossing the street! Look  out! Hit the breaks!!!!! Ok, find a phone and call an ambulance.

Now, did I remember any of this?

No. It all faded into the background of my mind when I offered to take The-Oldest for his first drive. I have to confess, I was super excited. He was super nervous.

The plan was simple. We’d take out the Rav4 and drive around the local theater parking lot. It’s a nice safe place and likely would be empty at 3pm on a Monday afternoon.

The-Oldest started off well enough. He quickly got over the whole go-cart way of driving (using his left foot for the break) and began to learn how far to push down on the gas to go, then how hard to press the break so as to actually stop the car and not send his favourite stepdad flying through the windshield.

But then things took a turn.

There was no reason that the parking lot shouldn’t have been empty, but the moment he put his foot on the gas, someone pulled into the center of the parking lot and took out their little 2-year-old who went charging around like she wanted to be hit by an overwhelmed sixteen-year-old. Then, another car arrived and parked on the edge and just sat there, the driver and passenger smoking and basically acting like THEY wanted to be t-boned by an overwhelmed sixteen-year-old.

If that wasn’t bad enough, someone else decided it would be nice to teach their son how to drive in the same lot.

What had been a great idea, (you know, find empty lot, train boy to drive) became avoid running over 2-year-old, don’t hit the couple doing, ah something, in the car, and please avoid ramming into that white-knuckled, pimply-faced boy with a terrified-looking mom in the front seat.

Fun.

Well, it was, actually. Fun, I mean. The-Oldest got used to the pedals, he learned to break and steer, he took WIDE turns to avoid cars, curbs and 2-year-olds, and he even managed to back up without running over anyone or anything (more than I can say most times.)

He did amazing. Sure he started out looking like we were about to make him do a public speech about girl’s anatomy, but he ended up confidently parking between the lines (again, something I can’t often do.) He was proud of himself and he began to feel like he could totally learn this whole driving thing. I know this because he said, “I can totally learn this whole driving thing.”

Parenting win! A win for The-Oldest!

Next up, we’ll see if he can drive in some lanes around that parking lot.

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The Great Sacrifice

The Death of Peace and Quiet

Parents will do anything for their children: Lift a car off their child. Fight off a bear. Run into a burning building to save their little ones. But the greatest sacrifice by far, I would argue, is letting one of them have a drum set.

The-Youngest, (perhaps inspired by his musically talented brother or some drum-solo music video), decided that the instrument that spoke to him the most was the drums. The boom of the base drum, the rat-tat-tat of the snare drum, the clang and clash of the cymbals.

When he came to us with his little face set in excited determination, the Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World and I looked at each other like mice about to be fed to a large snake.

We knew what a drum kit would entail. We didn’t have a wood shack out back where he could play. We didn’t have a sound-proof room somewhere in the lower levels of our basement that was once used by a serial killer. We would have to set up in our rec room and that was only one uninsulated floor away from where we lived most of our lives – the kitchen, living room and family room.

Now, we could have said, no. We could have argued that the beautiful sound The-Oldest makes on his piano does not compare to the chaotic cacophony of someone learning to play the drums. We could have told him that drumming makes my eye twitch and will likely cause me to have epileptic fits.

Instead, we said, sure.

Cuz we’d do anything for our kids.

So, we rented a drum kit from Long & McQuade. The-Youngest set it up and began banging away immediately. The whole house shook with the noise. The dog tried to hide upstairs. All the neighbours around us immediately put up for-sale signs.

Had we made a terrible mistake?

Well, that remains to be seen, but we immediately put 3 rules into place. First, no drums before 9am and after 8pm. Second, if he’s to have drums, he’s to learn how to play them, not just bang away like a chimpanzee on heroin and coffee. Lastly, if asked to stop, for any reason at all (headaches, dog throwing up, trying to watch a movie, whatever), he would do it. Immediately and without complaint.

He agreed.

To his credit, he took the second part very seriously, solving the problem of learning by doing what all people do in 2019 – he looked up YouTube videos on how to play.

Now, after a month, I have to say, he’s not that bad. In fact, he’s kinda good. He started out with simple beats or rhythms or whatever you do on drums and practiced his coordination with his feet and hands.  Oh sure, the house still shakes, the dog still hides and most of the houses next to use are empty and noise bylaw officers lurk outside the house 24/7, but it’s not as bad as I feared.

We survived.

With our hearing and sanity intact.

I think our next great challenge will come when he wants to get a car.

Or a girlfriend.

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The Composer

The Composer at Long & McQuade

There may come a time when The-Oldest playing on stage doesn’t wow me, but on one Saturday in Dec., not only was I wow’d, but I have to confess, tears leaked out of this old guy’s eyes as I listened to him play at the Langley Community Music School – a piece he’d written.

As a struggling artist (writer, not composer), I felt his anguish as he wrote, then perfected his sonata. For weeks, I heard him trying new things on his piano, playing with themes, progressions, chords and musical thingees I don’t pretend to understand. He’d curse the results sometimes. Sometimes he’d leave to walk around, muttering to himself as he sorted out a problem in his mind. A few times he even shouted with triumph.

But make no mistake, creating his latest composition took time, he suffered in its creation, and he put a lot of his soul into it.

Being a perfectionist, though, he wasn’t happy with the piece even as he sat waiting for his turn to play on stage. Nervous, like anyone having to perform, he talked out the issues swirling in his head, hoping to calm the butterflies or chase away the fear that everyone would hate it, that he’d wasted his time, that he didn’t have the talent.

Worse, as he sat there, he found out he had to do a speech.

A speech!

He hadn’t prepared for that! What was he going to say?

Keep it simple, I told him. What is your name? What is your quest? What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?

He didn’t laugh. I don’t even know if he heard me.

Then his turn came.

Christ, I was as nervous as him. I knew there were complex parts he struggled to play. I knew when he let his nerves get the best of him, he’d rush through the piece like a ferret on speed. I knew that he still wasn’t sure one part worked and might even attempt to change it on the fly.

He stood up.

His mom took his hand for a moment. Just a brief moment. Then he marched up on stage.

And played his heart out.

He played his piece fearlessly. He played with passion and power. He played loud and proud, which in our living room sometimes sounds like he’s trying to bring the walls of Jericho down, but in the concert hall, he filled the huge room with incredible music.

After he finished, he stood, bowed with flourish, like a man used to being on stage, like a performer who knew he’d hit it out of the park. Not like someone who just took up the piano 2 ½ years ago.

I dabbed away the tears.

Last blog, I talked about ‘firsts’, and how special they can be, but this, too, was special. Not his first concert. Not the first piece he’s played to an audience, but it was, by far, the best performance that he’d done thus far.

Thus. Far.

Who knows what’s next?

As sat back down, he said he was already working on his next creation, and it would be even BETTER.

The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World and I both posted the performance on Facebook and Youtube, but if you haven’t heard it, check it out below. Like and subscribe to his channel, if you think he did a good job.

Help him get to 1000 subcribers. 🙂

Check out his Youtube Video for more

Thanks for reading! If you like what you see, please hit the subscribe button, buy me a coffee (button at the top) or follow me on FB or Pinterest, or heck, just tell your friends.