During last week’s episode of “Big Bang Theory,” Sheldon, Raj, and Howard were playing Settlers of Catan (which they pronounced Ka tan, though I still hold to Ka t’on – I’m such a prude).  While much of the section dealing with the game was a play on Sheldon’s request for wood for his sheep so he could complete an erection of his settlement (you have to wonder if the writers have listened in on one of our game sessions), I found that the episode made me quite nostalgic. 

I don’t miss the game itself—I played just this past New Year’s Day.  I miss the gang who used to make Catan a nearly weekly ritual.  It’s been so many years now (5th grader Alex is about to graduate high school), but I feel like it was just yesterday.  Our hanging around Brian and Thea’s dining area, Steve’s new (at the time) dining space next to his newly completed porch, or even our cramped kitchen could have been last week for as far as my memory is concerned.

I’m ready to play again.

I realized something as I rode with Katrina yesterday.  She does not yet have enough driving time to get her license, so we went on a four hour trip with no real destination.  Now that I think about it, that’s actually not a bad way to spend a few hours.  I wish I hadn’t been so tired, because I wasn’t the best conversationalist during the drive.  I digress …

Katrina has a tendency to hug the curb as she drives.  Sitting in the passenger seat, that tendency can be a little unnerving.  We were on a snow-covered dirt road with plenty of hills when her tendency kicked into full force.  It was the only point on our four hour trek where I felt compelled to grab the steering wheel to keep us from sliding into a ditch.  As I admonished her to be more careful, I started to think about just how crazy the entire idea was.  There was a car coming the other way, and Katrina’s natural instinct was to put as much distance between her and it as they hurtled towards each other.  Here, I was criticizing her for not listening to that very rational instinct.

Forget TV, movies, and video games; the thing truly desensitizing Americans is our automobiles.  Icy, narrow roads, speeding coffins of death (thank you Nader), and the requirement to overcome our instincts of self-preservation-- all of this leads me to one conclusion: driving is making us insane.  Think of the increasing cases of road rage, drunk driving, drugged driving, texting-while-driving, etc.  We are speeding through our lives and intentionally shutting down our instinct for self-preservation while doing so.  All of the violence that we are desensitized to due to the media is as nothing compared to how desensitized we have become towards these threats to our very survival.

I had almost grabbed the wheel again as we were going up a hill.  I had just given a small lecture on bright light etiquette, and her distraction with the lights had her scooting to the edge again.  Before I could make the adjustment, a car flew over the hill.  We had no sign that it was coming.  It was almost in the middle of the road and coming right toward us, but we were far enough over that we barely missed each other.  Katrina’s self-preservation that I was going to criticize (again) had kept us out of an accident.  Situational irony.  Perhaps there is something to be learned here.

… She does drive too close to the side of the road though.  Watch your mailboxes.  

inFamous 2 - B+First of all, I did not like the change in voice actors for the main character.  It bothered me from beginning to end through the game.  That said, I liked the game a great deal more than I anticipated, and I had planned on liking the game.  While some of the missions get repetitive, they are  usually well-crafted and an improvement over the first game.  While the Arkham games have allowed me to feel like Batman, this inFamous game made me feel like a up-and-coming superhero.  I genuinely felt the growth of my character through the game.  More importantly, while I still refuse to play the evil side of games with branching paths, this was the first game to truly make me want to do it.  That, by itself, is quite an accomplishment. 

I need to tell you this now before I forget, before my mind’s eye is occupied by things of triviality.
 
I hate seeing old pictures of myself.  They aren’t of the person that I remember being.  Every time I see them, I want to scream as myself, to warn myself against the traps of laziness and procrastination, and the even greater traps of temporary treasure and impermanent pleasure.
 
I never properly see myself.  I am continually surprised by the mirror.  In my mind, I am youthful, handsome, brilliant.  Sadly, the mirror shows me a face and a body that I don’t completely recognize.  The pictures on my wall remind me that a great deal of my youth has been misspent.  Together, the mirrors and pictures remind me that I do not have the youth that I thought I had, that I was not as brilliant in my youth as I have always believed myself to have been.

I see the dreams and promise in those pictures, and I’m angered that those dreams and promises now feel broken.  This is why parents are so hard on their children.  We are haunted by memories of the life and energy that we used to have.  We remember that ever-present idea that we could always accomplish great things on a later day.  Now our later days have come and the great things are mocking shadows.  Our only hope is that our children will do better.  That way everything that we have learned and accomplished isn’t for nothing.  
 
Please, children, listen.  You are the embodiment of our hopes and dreams.  I apologize for the burden, and I wish that I had been a stronger person to accomplish them myself.    I know that I resented my parents for doing the same thing to me.  I know that you need to live your own lives.  But please, do not fall into the traps that I have.  Learn from my mistakes.  Do as I say, not as I do.  Seek the difficult journey and forgo the temporary amusement.  I believe that it will pay off in the end.  I know that the other way does not.

In the past two weeks, I have played three games, started a fourth, have watched two new movies, and have finished three books.  I used to keep brief reviews in my Franklin planner each time I finished some form of media.  I thought I would start something similar here.

Already, the Christmas decorations are starting to come down.  The irony to me is that we have had them up since Thanksgiving (Halloween in some cases), but the moment Christmas passes, we are desperate to tear them down as though they are somehow over ripe or spoiled.  The truth is, however, that the Christmas season (as it was celebrated up until Cromwell cancelled Christmas in Britain) is a two week affair.  It begins on Christmas day and lasts until Epiphany (the 6th of January).  While many people sing the twelve days of Christmas, they forget the reason behind the song.  The twelve days symbolize the spread of the word of Jesus's birth, culminating with the arrival of the Magi, the kings who bring the gifts which our gift-giving is supposed to symbolize.  

While it's a bit of a joke that our Christmas decorations stay up until June.  I, personally, try to keep them up for the entire twelve days.  I have meant to resume the gift-giving on each of the twelve days in my family, but it never panned out that way for me.  Our busy lives aren't willing to hold for that long.  Maybe they should though.  Maybe we need to make a better effort and make the Christmas season (the true Christmas season) more than just a time to return our unwanted gifts.  Our time with friends and family should be more than just a single day.