What's in a name?

Just occurred to me: some of you may wonder, "Where does the name 'Strings' come from?". Then again, maybe not... but I'm gonna explain it anyway... :P

WAY back in elementary school, we could start learning to play an instrument in 4th grade (orchestra only: band came the following year). I wanted DESPERATELY to try violin, but was told my grades weren't good enough. Unfortunately, not knowing what the carrot tasted like, I didn't really push it...

The following year, we had moved from Illinois to California, and I got to start my "musical career"... playing clarinet. See, we didn't have all that much money, and my brother owned a clarinet that he graciously allowed me to use. And I promised myself right then, that any child connected to me would be able to learn whatever instrument they wished. Here's most of the result of that promise:



Now, that's not where this story ends. When we moved to Wisconsin, I gave up the clarinet for the trumpet. And I discovered something: I HATE playing brass. So that didn't last too long, and I switched to something not offered: guitar (and by extension, bass)...

If you look in that picture, there's a one-of-a-kind custom B.C. Rich Gunslinger (she does NOT leave the house very often), a Gibson Paul II (that's the cat's eyes you see), a Kramer/Ferrington acoustic/electric, a Steinberger bass, an Ibanez Soundgear bass (the basses technically belong to Spoon though), and my Steinberger six-string (my travel guitar). My amp's the closer of the two. The harp, bouzouki (at far left), mandolin, tambourines, and klong yaw (that's the purple drum on the right) are all mine. Not in the picture is the second mandolin, Spoon's acoustic bass, and a couple other hand drums...

Oh... that violin in the far back? That's Ray's (not that she plays it). The viola is also Spoon's...

So... does that explain where I came up with the name "Strings" well enough?

Ok... so I'm a geek...

Yeah, I know... the above admission stuns my readers. I'm sure all five of you are going "But Strings... we thought you were so cool, with hot chicks hanging off you, and dudes wanting to be you when they grow up!". Unfortunately, no...

I used to be a serious gamer. Not the way that term is used today: nowadays, "gamer" denotes someone who plays lots of video games. Back in the day, a gamer played RPGs: games found in books, which you played using your mind, some graph paper, and MAYBE a miniature (I still collect and paint miniatures). D&D, Cyberpunk, GURPS, Deadlands... those were the games of choice among my friends. Add in Battletech, Dark Future, and Warhammer 40K, and you had most of how I spent my teenage years (and quite a few years after becoming an adult).

Previously, I mentioned something about Deadlands: this is a game set in the Weird West: think "horror movie set in the West, starring Adam Sandler". We're not talking about being serious here: the humor was a BIG part of the game.

So... myself and a friend are playing partners: our characters grew up together, and we stand by each-other whatever may come. The party is not exactly cohesive: our spirit guide is an old indian who sounds like Yoda on crack as a result of how well we work together. Because of this, we end up accidently entering the spirit realm...

Those who have played D&D know all about illusions, right? If you attempt to disbelieve, the illusion shatters? we end up in a fight (in the spirit realm), and I hand the GM a note: "I disbelieve". He smiles, hands back "just sit there quietly", and tells the other players that I "just got my head torn off"... they (predictably) go nuts, and fight all the harder...

Once they come through (with some scrapes and contusions), they find out I'm fine: that what they just went through was illusion. So we continue on, and come to a cliff (we're at the top)...

Everyone see where this is going?

My partner decides "It worked once", steps to the edge, and steps off... telling the GM "I disbelieve". I, being a good friend, follow suit.

Dying in the spirit realm is kinda interesting: your body gets possessed fairly quickly there. And playing a game where your character is a possessed gunfighter with a handgun the size of Texas is just too much fun!


And let's not talk about Cyberpunk, or the website I was working on for it once upon a time. The pics we took (my entire gun collection, and several other props, set up to look like a street dealer's warehouse) earned me police attention one afternoon (and we're still not sure how they even found out about the silly things).

Never got into LARP (Live Action Role Playing): can't bring myself to swing even a fake sword at someone without trying to do damage... especially when the target thinks they really ARE the shit, and look like it (Google LARP sometime). Playing with swords and other melee weapons for the better part of 20 years tends to impart a little ability...

Still do the Ren Faire... worked a few years for my sister at her jewelery shop (The Royal Exchange Jewelers), where I still have my knotwork pieces. Next year, I might be helping her a bit, but I'm more likely to be selling decorative stonework or kilts. Anyone reading this, who finds themselves at the Bristol Ren Faire, should look me up...

Yes... I've attended sci-fi conventions, and even dressed in costume. Cyberpunk costuming is fun: vinyl pants, motocross boots, net tanktop, the Psycho Jacket (I'll post a pic at some point), and HARDWARE (airsoft, but still)...


Nowadays, I don't do much of the above (except the Ren Faire): BACA takes loads of time, as does shooting (actually going to the range, and fighting for CCW and against anti measures). When I DO get some time and money to burn, I'm more likely to take a long bike ride, or get some friends together for a game of paintball. We DO play old-school D&D during the winter, when we really can't be outside...


What... you thought there was a point to this post? It's late, I can't sleep, and I'm doped up on Oxycodone. If there was any cohesive thought behind this post, it would be a miracle!

"How I damaged my shoulder"

Or "Strings is a clutzy idiot, who should keep wheels from between his feet and the ground"...

Several years back, I used to hang out at the local comic shop. One of my friends there and I were rabid roller-bladers: five miles a day during the week, and several circuits of the city on weekends. We raced each-other in what can only be termed "suicide courses": down steep, grassy hills. Through traffic. Over and around every possible obstacle we could find. Rules were simple: the clock didn't stop until you a) reached the finish, or b) died...

One day, we started getting nostalgic, and recalled the fun we used to have playing lazer tag. And Jeff remembered where his gear was stored. He ran home, while i ran to the store for batteries.

Now, we weren't really expecting anything spectacular. We figured (at best) to have some fun with the kids. Unfortunately, the kids were sharp: they wanted us handicapped (because we were experienced players). The lines were drawn: Jeff and I vs roughly 10 lil' kids. The kids allowed us one aid in our handicap...

Wondering why I suddenly started talking about lazer tag? They tie together: the kids said we could play while on our blades. I think the kids were smarter than we were...

Game went fairly well at first: Jeff or I would swoop in faster than the kids could run, and hit 'em a bunch of times. A good number of the kids were out, when I made what was THE bone-headed manuver of the game: while coasting along, I twisted to shoot at one kid who was behind me...

There was no reason for me to do this: the old tag sets did NOT have sensors on the backs, so junior wasn't a threat. Jeff was coming from the same direction I was heading, and would undoubtedly take the boy out. But I let myself get too competitive...

As my pistol lined up (I DID hit my target), my body suddenly got conflicting orders. My lower body got the memo "keep going", but my upper body decided that it didn't want to move anymore. One of the observers described it as looking like I had run into a chest-high bar: my legs just suddenly swung up, and I fell straight down... :(

I spent the next couple weeks in a sling (still 'blading, mind you). And now, every once-in-awhile, my shoulder goes wiggy. In my defense, the injury was worse than it could've been: I was too busy saving the gun to save myself.


For now, we won't talk about the other 'blading injuries I've sustained over the years (at some point, we may discuss Spoon's try-out for the Brickcapades)...

I'll give the Billboard meme a try

Wasn't tagged (guess none of the cool bloggers like me enough for that). But I figured, what the hell...

1. Go to the Billboard #1 Hits listings
2. Pick the year you turned 18
3. Get yourself nostalgic over the songs of the year
4. Pick 5 songs and write something about how these songs affected you
5. Pass it on to 5 more friends

Gotta warn you: '90 was NOT a good year for music...

1: Black Velvet - Alannah Myles

This is the song I remember cruising around the nearby "big city" to. No "this was our song" stuff: just one of the few cool tunes that came out the year I turned 18...

2: Nothing Compares 2 U - Sinead O'Connor

This came out, and a good friend of mine became a total Sinead groupie. I heard it, shrugged, and thought "what... she can't spell english words?"

3: Vogue - Madonna

Heh... one of the few songs I've ever quoted. The line "Let your body move to the music" is THE best explanation of how to dance I have ever heard ('course, I don't dance anymore)...

4: Blaze of Glory Jon - Bon Jovi

I remember learning the song (had a kinda band going in high school). It was Bon Jovi, which to us meant fluff...

5: Ice Ice Baby - Vanilla Ice

Oddly enough, I remember this because of the "controversy". A complete rip-off of Queen, that made it to #1. Sad, in the same way Milli Vanilli was sad...

Y'all have to remember, what I listened to (for the most part) was metal, which was NOT played on the air here in WI: Metallica (pre Black Album), Ozzy, Iron Maiden. I had the tape player going FAR more often than the radio...