[[This is long. It damn well better be, considering how long it was since I posted last.]]

Well, I cannot help but wonder if I need to go around re-advertising if I’m going to resume posting.

Has it really been a full quarter since I posted? Wow. I suppose I can’t blame myself - not a whole lot happened of extreme import over the last quarter. Well, okay, we DID go to San Francisco (which was quite the trip, if I might say so), and I DID kind of graduate, so I guess I can’t quite say that.

Oh, yes, have you read my mother’s post concerning my graduation? I suppose you can’t say you READ it - it’s mostly visual. That’s the way mom records these events. She is spectacular at it, though I fear she may disagree with me.  Anyway, I bring it up, because it’s photographic documentation of someone many of you probably haven’t heard of - Shelby-chan.

Wikipedia says that the Japanese honorific “chan” “expresses that the speaker finds a person endearing… It may also be used towards cute animals, lovers, and close friends.” Shelby-chan is obviously not an animal and it would be more than slightly awkward and more than very incorrect to call us lovers, but I would like to say that relative to the amount of time we’ve known each other, we’ve gotten to be pretty close, and I like that. My family will tell you (essentially every time we bring her up, in fact - I’m beginning to wonder if it’s turning into one of our Cottlisms) that we like Shelby.

I’m not being presumptuous when I call her Shelby-cha, by the way, and that neatly leads into the first thing I would like to elaborate on - my Pokemon experiences thus far (trust me, it fits).

A few months ago, Washington State Championships took place. Pokemon organizes tournaments in a Swiss ranking style, where you are placed dependent upon your win-loss record and who you faced rather than by pure elimination. I don’t remember my score precisely - it was something like 2 wins, 5 losses - but it wasn’t as good as I would have liked and I learned a lot about how competitive gameplay works on a grander scale than just the Tri-Cities, which is what I was really going for. Only a week or two later, I dragged my parents south to the Oregon State Championships, where my record improved to 4-3, running a deck that was built to counter the threats I had seen and disliked most. As Dad has frequently reminded me, the best offense tends to be a fantastic defense, and so far that has proven true.

Go-Pokemon, the subdivision of Game Freak and Nintendo that runs the Trading-Card game, is an interesting organization. There are three major organizers in the Northwest area (which is world-renowned for producing the world’s best Pokemon TCG players, by the way - I have personally met and borrowed cards from the current #3 player in the world; he’s about 12 years old) - David being one, and the other two I don’t actually have names for. David organizes tournaments in Washington; I see him running smaller-scale tournaments and prereleases every three months or so. One of the others is referred to affectionately by the name Raichu, and I really don’t know why. It’s his favorite Pokemon, apparently. If you think that’s bad, for the first month and a half I knew of him, the upper-scale organizer - the third individual I was telling you about before - was known to me only be three letters: BDS. I only recently learned what they stand for: Big Daddy Snorlax.

Really, guys? Really?

The three organizers make it a point to make every tournament feel very close to home and personal for all of the players. Their effort isn’t always successful, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s the effort that counts - they obviously care very much about the game and the programs that help keep it alive, and it makes me feel good to be a part of it. At the end of Oregon state championships, Raichu said that he and David had promised they were going to shave their heads bald if they could get more than 300 (or was it 400?) people at Regional Championships the next month. I figured I might as well do my part for the fun of it.

Shelby-chan is 17, and will be turning 18 in mid-July. She has been a faithful, quiet, kind Pokemon player for three years. The local league organizer knows and trusts her like a dear friend. She makes it a point to take the game easy - she plays it like a game, unlike almost everyone else our age, who play it like it matters. To her, the game is why you play, not the results. To the new person (meeee) who walks into League two and a half years after she started playing and sees her running a very simple, low-tech, not-so-successful deck, this is very understandable; the player who rarely wins, does not addicted to winning. But when you look at her card binder, you’ll find that it is stocked full of the rarest and most powerful cards ever imagined from two years ago.

She was obviously a fantastic player in her day.

Shelby has fallen out of gameplay because of Running Start; between it and her dancing class, she hasn’t had nearly as much time or money to play and get new cards with. So she has lagged far behind the rest of the players her age, who are spending hundreds of dollars on cards to make sure they always keep up. But she still loves the game, and comes to League whenever she can, playing with us competitive dorks and the excitable little kids.

It took a lot of convincing, but I eventually managed to drag her along to Regionals - after a nearly stressful visit from her parents and a bit of hotel-yanking and planning, that is. At first she didn’t want to go because she feared she wouldn’t do well; after all, those amazing and rare cards she owns are useless now, because Go-Pokemon only allows recently released cards to be played in tournaments. But I wouldn’t take that as an answer. I built her a deck, with a few of my own rare-ish cards, and let her tinker with and modify it to suit her own needs, which she has done. Armed now with a deck she felt secure with, she tagged along for Regionals.

I, with all of my planning and plotting and hype, got 4-3; that’s just out of the required 5-2 record for a player to have a chance at being in the finals. I can understand it, too; unlike the previous two tournaments, I didn’t make very many simple/stupid mistakes, but I did make a deck without considering what would counter it, and so of course I came up against the cards that simply made it useless. It’s a learning process and I enjoyed the trip all the same. Shelby played her matches slow and easygoing, sitting back and relaxing during her opponent’s turn (but paying polite attention, at all times) and surveying the field closely during her own, taking everything one step at a time. It was stunning to watch, when you’re used to the speed with which all of the other Master-level players work - a player in the pinnacle of his strategy might take thirty seconds to get through a turn, but Shelby seemed to make it a point to spend at least five minutes, and I think that’s part of why she did so well. Her record was 5-2. However, the players she beat went on to continue losing, so the value of her record was decreased, and she didn’t make finals either - which was fine. That wasn’t why she was here. She was here to play, and play she did.

In between matches, neither of us had much to do except wander and talk. There was an area in the back of the huge building we were playing in where some tournament organizers had set up a few tables and were having people play. When a match was completed, they would announce it to the organizer, and the organizer would let them each pick a card. The winner of the match would choose which card they wanted. We played there for a little while, switching off between playing each other and playing other people, but before long that area became a bit too crowded and the organizer seemed a bit too stressed, so we left that alone. Not far from there was one of the classic Pokemon Stores that consist of several tables and a couple of gals behind the tables, selling Pokemon merchandise of all kinds; they have these at each State-level and above tournament, and I have to tell you, they’re a dream. Pokemon cards are cheaper than you’ll find anywhere else on the planet. They also sell sleeves, and that might not mean much to most people, but when sleeves are the only way to keep your cards from getting damaged in play, when the cards can be worth a couple hundred dollars compiled into a deck, and when those official neat sleeves are only given away at prereleases once every three months, well - the opportunity to buy them is not one to be taken lightly. Shelby and I bought cards a few times. Shelby pulled a new Level X card from one of her packs. I, of course, did not.  All was well - I bought two more Level X cards from a collection of single cards that BDS was selling. I still have one of them. They were pretty inexpensive so I was pleased with the investment.

Between matches Shelby taught me about the honorifics, in a nutshell - she’s been taking Japanese classes for a little while, and I hope to follow along at some point; talking in foreign languages to one of your friends while keeping the other friends clueless is a joy of life, I have noticed. She pointed out that normally, to call someone by the honorific “-chan” (or the male counterpart, “-kun”: “can also be used by females when addressing a male that they… have known for a long period of time”), you generally need their permission. So I asked. And she said sure.

She is Shelby-chan; I am Kayle-kun, because Sam is not quite conductive to Japanese honorifics (try it with -San and -Sama and it will be okay; try it with -kun, -sempai, -sensei, etc; and you’ll find it doesn’t flow all that well).

We like Shelby.

She graduated next to me this weekend with high honors from Columbia Basin College (she is oddly not enthused about her grades - something about how it’s not healthy). She was sad to report that she will be going to University of Washington in Seattle at the end of summer to pursue a Master’s or better degree in psychology. She’s probably one of the smartest, kindest and most gentle people I have met. She demanded I visit. I intend to.

I remember thinking that most people my age were… unsavory. I also remember my mother’s reassurance that, at the college level, things would be much better. She was very right.

Let’s talk about some of my other friends for a moment. The group I spend the most time with, certainly, is the D&D group.

I knew Shelby at first from Pokemon League, but that was only in passing - I got to know her better from CBC, when she took a math class I was SI-ing for, and better still when Scott invited her to our weekly Dungeons and Dragons game. Scott is the senior D&D player. He’s about twenty years old and has also been pursuing a degree in psychology; financial limitations have slowed him and may have put him at a standstill, but we pray it is a temporary one.  He has been playing D&D for eight years now. He roleplays via the internet - a fantastic way to better your creative writing skills, and I recently joined in on one of the RPs (roleplays) he’s been looking forward to. It’s been quite a bit of fun so far. Scott has a bit of an intimidating and overbearing nature, for two reasons - when he talks, you listen; when you listen, you realize he’s usually right. He’s a fantastic Dungeon Master simply on the basis of his ability to keep track of all of us idiots and make sure things flow and make sense.

Josh and Joel Vunkannon are less senior D&D players, but they have a bit of history with it; both of them were taking classes at CBC last year. Joel will be continuing, he is in Running Start a year behind me and Shelby. Josh has transferred to WSU-Tri Cities. Both of them have wildly vivid imaginations that are a joy to roleplay with (or even just talk with).

Maren Jones was my ticket into the D&D group when it was first founded; she’s a little older than Scott and she’s a mormon, but she maintains a neatly open mind that keeps her up with the worst of us in the D&D group. She and I have conducted short roleplay sessions out of the D&D group to accomplish things that weren’t possible during the game proper, so I’m familiar with her considerable writing prowess as well. She is waiting on paperwork to send her on a mission - and it’s really down to the wait. No idea where or when, but she hopes it comes soon.

Eric Claybrook. Some of you may already be familiar with the name. What a nut. There are no words on the planet that I could use that would adequately describe him. Suffer with me through an inadequate summary: his energy and natural enthusiasm is infectuous. His imagination works a little slower than most of the D&D group’s does, but when it fires, it makes sure it’s a grand and beautiful blast. He’s been planning his next character for weeks and weeks and we still won’t see mention of it for weeks more to come (possibly not until after Shelby leaves!); his planning includes drawings (he is quite the anime-style artist in the making), background writing, and excited, hushed conversations with the DMs to-be, since we trade off every few months. Though at times it can be a little difficult for him to keep up with us (or for us to keep up with him!) he’s proved his roleplaying capability with a character we fondly refer to as Conner, and though at first I was concerned, he’s gelled nicely into the rest of the D&D group.

But my experience with him goes back far, far further than just D&D. I’ve known him almost since we moved here. He’s always had the same hyperactive imagination and the same silly, excitable tendencies. Perhaps my fondest memories of him will be from when he, I and a scout troop we had rather disowned took a fifty-mile hike for the heck of it into the Cascades. It wasn’t uncommon to hear Eric randomly burst into song (”OHHH WHAT A MASSIVE MOSQUIIIITOOOO, OHHH WHAT A GIGANTIC BUUUUUG” [I actually wrote that one, he quite likes it]), or shout out some random phrase in a bellowing, completely nonsensical tone (”HILLBILLY AIR CONDITIONING!”). He still does these things over the phone. It’s like we’re having a contest to see who can be more random, pulling out the most retarded thing to say at the most unrelated possible time. He is the undisputed winner.

He’s looking for an opportunity to put his artistic ability to use as a graphic artist - the kinds of people who make official art for manga, video games, and the like. Graphic artists are responsible for all three pictures I’ve linked you to so far in this post. Don’t tell him, but if he can pull it off, I intend to hire him once I start my own company. His design of Shiruetto (his next character) in concept alone was probably a work of art I haven’t seen paralleled since.

It’s hard to talk about the D&D group without talking about Pinky. Pinky was one of the original members of the group - older than anyone else, nearly thirty on the outside. But because of how he worked on the inside, because of how he acted and played, none of us had any idea, and it was a shock when I found out. He fit in with the D&D group very, very well for the short time he played with us. His characters always had a beautiful, simple charm that none of us could replicate - he had a knack for unintelligent characters. That isn’t to say he wasn’t intelligent; he is a Pokemon player, too, and he claimed third place in Washington State championships a year or two back, so his skill and strategic knowledge are certainly not lacking. I fought the deck that he used, and let me tell you, it is NOT a deck for the faint of heart.

Pinky (Chris) moved to California about a year ago. He popped up to visit for RadCon, and he calls me now and again just to see how things are going. From what I know, he and his girlfriend Amber have been doing well, making their living and enjoying things. Though he doesn’t have money to keep up with Pokemon anymore, he DOES have money to keep up with Magic: The Gathering, and anyone who plays that game over Pokemon I consider my superior. Magic is a much more difficult game. The few games I played with him were generally spent in awe of his decks.

I can’t really neglect Murthen, Maren’s brother. I remember first meeting him when I drove to Maren’s place to wait for a D&D game that couldn’t be hosted in our traditional location. His nickname, Mur, unfortunately is an exact match of one of Eric’s random phrases that is now firmly lodged in my brain somewhere as something to say in distress, so when I said Mur, he piped up immediately and said “Yes?” He is our youngest player - no older than J’Neil - and probably our most energetic. He proves that the game can be played by anyone with the imagination to keep up, because his character - although wild - has played pretty seriously and fairly well in our games. His character’s brother was probably one of the best villains I have seen so far in the D&D game, simply in terms of believability (which is ironic, considering his brother was an insane necromancer).

I kind of have to mention Shelby again, too - quiet, reserved, but attentive. Her character is calm but has a definite personality when little she speaks, and I have seen her background - it’s detailed, realistic, and nicely thought out. Shelby hopes to increase her interaction with the group, but she has enough respect for how we play that she knows she can’t just suddenly become talkative - her character isn’t like that, and she doesn’t want to break out of character any more than the rest of us. Josh and the rest of the group (…mostly Josh) have been concocting a plan to grant her her wish in the most exquisitely nonsensical and possibly frightening way possible. That is, I must say, Josh’s specialty.

Interesting how much you get to know about people, from watching them act like someone else.

Well, while I’m talking about very cool people, let’s talk about Dad for a bit. Sunday was Father’s Day, after all.

Dad represents cool fulfilled. He maintains coolness, but it’s played low, content to watch others do their cool thing while keeping his own type neatly stocked away. That’s kind of how I see him - that cool guy playing bass on his porch or upstairs. He played D&D once upon a time, but he played it completely differently - in a way that is more conductive as a game than as a story, and as a game designer, that’s at least as amazing if not more amazing than the way we play it. The stories of his characters in the past are wide and varied, and also educational - learn from his wariness of teleportation circles or his craftiness with the Purple Worm. And do not pass up the opportunity to pick up a griffon egg.

(Your wariness, by the way, is the reason I picked up the handy Trace Teleport power on my next character.)

I divide life into three Big Things: Spirit, Science, and Entertainment. Dad is the man I can talk to about the Big Things of Science. And Science doesn’t just mean particle physics or time travel - it means literature and its intricacies, or cooking and its fickleness, too. He’s the guy who knows stuff. When it comes to knowing stuff, I wish everyone could know as much stuff as the stuff my Dad knows. Even if he doesn’t know it, he can figure it out. The ever-expanding knowledge and intellect of my father is a thing for me to admire and to strive for.

I can’t talk about Dad without talking about Mom. That would be a crime against nature. Mom is the one I talk to about the Big Things of Spirit - morals. Fairness. Right and wrong, black and white, and grey. Dad noted last Mother’s Day that “her sense of fair play is legendary”, and there is nothing sarcastic or flattering about that. It’s true. Above and beyond that, Mom’s organization and work ethic are just as legendary. You should see her plan a murder mystery. She doesn’t let it just be a party - when you walk into our house on the 27th of this month at six PM, you will leave Washington in 2009 and you’ll be in Hawaii, during WWII. Tiki torches line our backyard, she’s constructed a bamboo bar for J’Neil to serve drinks behind, and our selection of exotic tropical treats and drinks has been stockpiled for the last week or so in preparation. We are ready for this thing. And forget just the scenery - Mom wrote the whole thing, too, not just the idea but the character sheets, goals, abilities, items, all of it, and besides that, she made them into neat little cards, bought us all neat little folders to carry our information in, etc, etc - when it’s all told, Mom makes things professional.

I think that’s what I admire most about her. Mom is the most professional person I know, no matter what she does. Vacations are planned in exacting and beautiful precision and detail (anyone else had her take you to Hawaii or on a cruise?) Parties, murder mysteries, are made memorable, excellently personal, yet perfectly practical and planned. The homemade coat of paint on our game room and her office could not be told apart from an expensive professional job without stupidly meticulate scrutiny. And she seems to care about such scrutiny, too. If Mom does it, it must be perfect. No imperfection is an acceptable substitute.

That carries over into her regard for the moral and spiritual aspects of life, into her fair play. That’s why I respect her judgement and her opinions as much as I do - because I know that when Mom thinks it up or believes it, it’s got to be thought out to the extreme and the advance, and it takes all appropriate measures into consideration. No part of me regrets that I share the beliefs of my mother.

And who do I go to for the third slice of life? Well, friends are excellent for entertainment, but I think J’Neil is the guru. She can make me play a game I hate (Mario Party - I’m sorry, J’Neil, I have to say it, I really don’t like that game) and yet SOMEHOW make it an enjoyable, lasting and memorable experience. No one else can do that. No one. The only reason I still OWN Mario Kart is because somehow J’Neil manages to make it fun to play. There’s got to be some kind of magic behind that. I wouldn’t find it hard to believe, because she somehow also makes simply standing around looking at each other fun, too.

Yup. Definitely the entertainment guru.

I think I should leave my musings here for now. Summer and free time reign - so you can expect some more posts than before. . .