One drunken night, I proposed to a friend of mine — while playing Rock Band — that we should form a real band.  He plays bass, Cody can sing quite well, and I would teach myself to play guitar.  While that latter notion might sound preposterous, it’s not quite as outlandish as it first seems because my dad’s been playing for well over 40 years.  I also have a number of friends who play, so the base for training is pretty large.

After recovering from my drunkenness over the weekend, I decided that it wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.  Why not learn how to play guitar and then form a band?  I spent some time reading up on guitars, learning guitar, what guitars were best for beginners, and so on.  I also got a list of things to look for when buying a guitar from my dad. I then grabbed the aforementioned friend and dragged him, along with Cody, to Daddy’s Junky Music in Burlington.  

We spent two hours there, my intent being to look, see what they had, and do some more research.  They had a number of very nice guitars, including a Seagull S6 — universally recommended as one of the best-sounding beginner guitars, though the most expensive of the lot. I decided it was more than I wanted to pay. Most of my deliberations were over a $200 Epiphone. We discussed a lot of things with the sales guy there, going back and forth on deals and so forth.

And then one of the stock guys, who had been coming in and out putting guitars on the wall the whole time, brought in a used Seagull S6, marked for less than $200. It was pretty much a done deal at that point. I bought the guitar.

I’ve spent every day since then practicing. The internet has a ridiculous treasure trove of resources for a novice guitarist, including several excellent learn-to-play sites that focus on developing in stages. YouTube is another great resource. In just three days, I’ve gone from knowing literally nothing about playing guitar to being able to play the five common major chords (CAGED), though not without still glancing at the neck to ensure my fingering is correct. My calluses are well on their way, accelerated by using the Eric Clapton trick of applying rubbing alcohol to them three times a day. And my dad is overjoyed. My original plan was to go down this weekend and surprise him for his birthday (he turns 65 on the 30th), but my allergies have more or less destroyed that idea. So instead, he’s coming up to visit. He’s also bringing his Martin.

After this weekend, which I hope will be very fruitful for my guitar-learning endeavors, I plan to take up regular lessons. I’m not sure where, yet. The salesman who sold me the guitar mentioned that he provides lessons, though he had also often emphasized that he wasn’t much of a guitar player. Of course, his definition of “much” and my definition are quite different; he had a pretty good set of licks he was able to play for demonstration purposes. There’s also a fairly well-regarded music school located here on Main St. that I’m considering.

One of the biggest regrets I have in my life is not pursuing my piano lessons when I was young (really young). Once I left Montessori, I stopped playing, and never really progressed beyond my ability level from that age. Learning to play something like guitar, so radically different from the piano I was at least marginally familiar with, always seemed out of reach. That drunken idea of forming a band, coupled with a quote from Babylon 5, made me realize I had nothing stopping me from learning guitar but myself.

Marcus: I could teach you [to speak Minbari] if you like.
Ivanova: No. I don’t have the time; it would take me a year.
Marcus: And assuming we survive this; how old will you be in a year if you don’t learn to speak Minbari?
Ivanova: The same.
Marcus: Exactly.

So, I decided to take Marcus’s, and John ‘Cougar’ Mellencamp’s advice, and learn how to play guitar.

You may drive around your town
In a brand new shiny car
Your face in the wind and your haircut’s in
Your friends think you’re bizarre
You may find a cushy job and I hope that you go far
But if you really want to taste some cool success
You better learn to play guitar

Our friend Heather loaned Cody the NYT bestseller, Twilight.  Cody seemed to enjoy it, and being Vampire fiction I was interested by default.  I started reading it once she finished it…and finished the 500 page book in only two days.  This, for me, is nearly unprecedented.  On a normal night, if I chew through 50 pages before falling asleep, I’m pleased.  I couldn’t put Twilight down, though.  I went through 150 pages before deciding that it was far, far too late for me to stay awake.  I then read another 200 while Cody was preparing dinner for the next week (she was making a large quantity of Fat Flush chili, some fantastic stuff!).  I finished the book last night.

I call it a guilty pleasure because, let’s face it, it’s definitely targeted towards women.  The protagonist, from whose perspective the story is told in first person, is a 17-year old girl, who exiles herself from her home in Arizona to go live with her father in Forks, Washington.  Much of the first part of the book deals with her struggles to fit in.  Of course, the Vampire component comes in pretty quickly, and it’s obvious (to us) when it does, but the book goes on unabashedly.

A telling exchange that resulted.

Me: On the one hand, the book is incredibly cheesy.  On the other hand, it’s very authentic.  Which leads me to the realization that teenage girls are incredibly cheesy. ;)
Cody: You hadn’t realized that? So are twenty-something girls, to some extent ;)
Me: No, I hadn’t, because teenage boys are incredibly dumb. ;)
Cody: Oh, right. And twenty-something boys ;)

More or less sums it up. Nevertheless, I do recommend it to anyone who’s even remotely a fan of Vampiric fiction.  At the very least, it’s addictive reading.

Many GMs like to play in existing campaign worlds. One of the most popular was/is Forgotten Realms, which has all but become D&D’s de facto setting. Others play in an alternate version of the real world, such as is the case with many World of Darkness games. Then there are the ultimate crazies: the world builders. Count me among this bunch.

I’ve been preparing to run an original sword-and-sorcery game of late (using GURPS), set in a fantasy world of my own devising. In researching for the daunting task of crafting an entire planet, I did a fair amount of reading on what makes something fantasy as opposed to historical fiction, science fiction, et cetera. The resounding answer: magic. Magic regarded as the universal defining characteristic that sets fantasy apart from its peers.

This made a lot of sense to me, since the real question one must ask when tampering with reality is this: what ramifications will the thing I’m changing have? This is the core idea behind science fiction, for instance, with the “thing I’m changing” usually being a piece (or many pieces) of technology. I think that it’s often overlooked in fantasy, though. Magic just “is” in a lot of fantasy, without the ramifications clearly thought-through. D&D, my favorite whipping dog, is guilty as hell of this. With as many wizards are running around hurling fireballs, D&D societies are often far, far too similar to a romanticized modern-day medieval world.

Thinking through the ramifications of magic was one of the key questions I first tried to answer. I found that I had a crystal-clear picture in my head of what I wanted…but the task of articulating that picture was arduous. The details are irrelevant to this post, but suffice it to say that I wanted magic to be difficult, limited without serious investment, and completely impossible to “alter the world” (i.e. D&D’s Wish spell). The result: a world left largely unaltered by magic, but altered just enough that it was no longer ours.

I then seasoned this with the idea that there was prevalent low-key magic, more akin to ultra-effective herbalism. I didn’t want to deal with the realities that people faced in medieval life like poor sanitation, rampant disease, poor medical understanding, and so forth. All that is handwaved away by “peasant magic,” which is powerful in its own right, but too limited to result in a shift in the balance of power.

Everything else — the arrangement of the society, the types of fantastic creatures, and so forth — comes after this critical decision is made. In truth, these subsequent pieces may dictate what picture it is you paint, but the decision about magic is the canvas, the medium, the type of brush, and the technique you use.

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