Identity

David Lamb was a joyful man of many talents. He loved to tell jokes to lighten up a room, sing and strum a guitar to lift heavy spirits, go on a boating adventure to reel in elusive fish and carve wooden mementos that would last for generations. Having earned diplomas in industrial arts and engineering from three universities, he also enjoyed sharing his knowledge. He was always active, never slowing down if he could help it. His love of activities was almost as great as the love he had for his family.

Last Wednesday, the only grandfather I knew as a child slipped away quietly, leaving this legacy behind him.

As I reflect on the time I spent with him, I think about things he shared with me that I didn't think much of at the time. Despite me not being much of an outdoors kid, he was eager to take me out on his pier and cast a line just so I could experience the challenge of getting a catch. Later on, he gave me a tackle box filled with lures and other fishing bits so I could be a fisherman like him. Even though that box ended up on a shelf in my parents' garage, it still holds the kindness he showed me on the day he passed it on to me. I was also not much of a singer but that didn't matter to him. Occasionally when he had his karaoke studio playing some of his favorite country hits, he pulled me in for backup vocals. I bristled at first, but as I sang with him, I let go of my embarrassment and enjoyed the music. 

If there is one thing to take away from these memories, it's that in everything he did, my grandfather always stayed true to himself. He didn't care what other people thought because he knew what he stood for. That's something he left that I'll carry with me for the rest of my days. I've tried to be like others, thinking that things like drawings done by my hand or stories fabricated from my mind would somehow make me feel more fulfilled. The truth is that I was just faking an identity instead of appreciating my true one. I believe my grandfather realized this about himself and that's why he lived with such passion. I will go forward remembering this and looking forward to seeing him again in heaven.

Summer of Direction

This summer has brought quite a few changes: I moved to a wonderful new place with nice people, my company moved to a new building that isn't plagued by loud noises and diesel fumes, I have a new little furry family member that loves to be adorable while causing chaos, and more changes are on the way.

Last month I turned a year older. This prompts me to reflect on where I've been and where I'm going in life. I've been blessed with a wonderful wife, a nice shelter, steady job, good friends and family and more entertainment than I need, to name a few things. There is still one thing missing though - something I haven't come up with a name for until this post. I'll call it creative direction. Don't get me wrong, I would be very hard-pressed to live without any of the things I listed above, but I've always wanted to pursue an artistic hobby. For me the choice of hobby has been one of three; music, writing and art.

I know what you're thinking. Why choose one? The first reason is time. I don't want to spend my evenings shutting myself away because I have too many things to practice (already made that mistake a few times and the results weren't pretty). The second reason is commitment. Anyone who knows my branch of the family line knows that dedication to something is a trait not to be abused. I can't tell you how many times I've flipped from one thing to the next because it might feel better than what I'm currently doing. I've been around that merry-go-round enough times to make me barf. The third reason is my fear of spreading myself so thin that I don't enjoy what I do which would defeat the purpose of having hobbies!

My experience explains what it means when I say I suffer from a lack of creative direction. This summer I've been trying to settle this by taking some time each week to try one of my three desired paths. Obviously, this blog covers the writing part. For music, I set up my electronic keyboard and went over halfway through a piano lesson book for adults. I followed my interest in electronic music by signing up for a free online course in music production. However, after learning the basics of sound physics and realizing that trying to understand and properly use a digital audio workstation would be a second job in itself, I decided that listening to music was just as good as playing it. This brings me to art. This is the creative skill that I envy most in others and I'm fortunate enough to know a couple of artsy folks from whom I've gotten inspiration. I have an assortment of "How-To" books that I've collected over the years when the bug to pick up a pencil struck me. I typically practice by setting up in a corner with a pen, a pad, a pair of headphones and a lesson book. This works until my concentration is broken by something going on in the house, which happens frequently. After a few distractions, I give up from frustration.

This post isn't meant to be disheartening, because there is a light in all of this. One thing this experience has taught me is that a hobby shouldn't be treated like a second job that you don't get paid for. If your boss asked you to stay an extra four to six hours at work each day and oh, by the way, come in on weekends but not get paid for it, would you do it? Heck no! A hobby shouldn't feel like that either. It should be a pursuit you do because it's what you want to do, not because someone told you to. This is how I'll approach hobbies for the rest of the summer. I pray that by the end of it, I'll find the direction I need.

I think I Jinxed It

You know how I said I was hoping for Spring? Yeah, that doesn't seem to be happening:

I woke up this morning to see a nice white layer outside and it's still coming down. It's rather discouraging given we had some nice weather that seemed to say "Hey! Spring's here! Sorry, I'm late". I guess Spring didn't enjoy being here much.

Well, enough griping. It's time for me to go to work which I'm thankful is indoors. Here's hoping we didn't scare the nice weather away for good.

Spring is Springing (I Hope)

The birds are singing. The snow is melting. I hope this post doesn't jinx it.

After a winter of staying inside, I'm eager to get back out and enjoy activities like walks and disc golf. Sure, it's fun to stay inside crouched over a keyboard to get your wizard that epic staff he's been questing the past four months for, but the palest of magi needs to get some sun sometime.

I'm partnering with my wife in a blogging quest. We would both like to put our thoughts out there so they're not bottled up until they fizzle out. I'm rebranding this into a more casual blog because I think that it will make it more fun to write and to read. I'd really like to find a better background though.

A really rad (yes, I used that retro term on purpose) trip I had this past weekend as going to the Midwest Gaming Classic. It's a convention that's packed with all of the gaming one could dream of. From pinball to pacman to pokemon - if there's a gaming platform you can think of, it was probably there. The event was so epic that it consumed a hallway of rooms of the Sheraton hotel the event was hosted at. My favorite room was the "80s" room which was dark and had some laser lights with 80s rock pumping through it. The best part of the room wasn't the atmosphere though; it was the collection of old computers and consoles that were set up throughout the room. You could walk right up to a Commodore, an IBM or even a NeXT cube and try it out. My favorite was a portable Commodore that was playing a Star Trek game, which looked like this:

Image Source

Playing with so many machines of the past gave me a craving to have one of my own. It's something to add to my man-cave wish list along with the arcade machine I want to build. *sigh*

It was also cool to talk with Hughes of The Retro League and others affiliated with the show in person. It was a reminder that there are others out there who share the same niche as you and would love to celebrate it.

I would definitely go back next year but I wish the Twin Cities had something similar to offer so I didn't have to stare at highway for six hours each way. Anyone want to kick-start the TC Gaming Classic? 

It Is Time

To immortalize the time 12:12 on this day of twelves, I sent myself the following snippet I conjured up:

The clock has struck so are you ready?
This time you will stand steady.
Your promises will no longer be broken.
Your passions will not hide unspoken.
Those who love you will know.
Those who don't are free to go.
Your identity will soar unbound.
Your fears will fly unsound.

The time has come. Awake.


I wrote this to encourage myself to bring out who I really am. That is not only my resolution for the new year, but my resolution for now.

Rise

Commitment. This is a word that instills more intimidation than cheer in the hearts of people who hear it. It represents sacrifice of one's time and ability to someone or something. Kasey and I have made a commitment to each other to start up a new workout routine by signing up for a membership at a local gym for the next 18 months. Though much weariness and pain is likely to come over that time, this commitment will make us stronger. We must rise to the challenge of overcoming complacency to move us toward a stronger life.

Commitment is not just a burden one carries. It is a chance to become stronger. Remember this the next time you rise to take one on.

Reading Ramble

I really ought to read more.

I've always had a desire to become a writer. When I was about eight I would put together picture books by using the scrap printer paper at school.  I'd make short stories about the misadventures of a couple of guys and a very angry cloud that loved to harass them and a retelling of Wallace and Gromit when they go to the moon to get cheese. As I got a little older I started making up outlines of stories I wanted to write. Most of the stuff I came up with was straight fan fiction of the TV shows I watched and in the end, I never felt like it was worth putting to paper.

Now I look at all the people who started around my age and they're putting out scores of books to the celebration of thousands. What if they felt like I had and decided that their work wasn't worth it? What if they decided that nothing they came up with would be original enough to get a following?

It's silly to think the way I let myself do. If I want to write, why don't I just do it? This doesn't just apply to me but to anyone reading this who feels the same about their own ability. That's why I'm writing tonight. But to write first I must read. For finding some reading, I'd recommend to anyone that Half Price Books is the best place to find a new series to start. If you're lucky, you might find the whole series for under 10 bucks, like my wife has on more than one occasion. It's quite an amazing place.

Alright enough rambling. Time to get over this headache.