RoBoTNiK

I'm sorry I'm too busy to give this historic anniversary the long and loving treatment it deserves, but:

It isn't often that the world changes, in a way that's so big and dramatic and unmistakable that everybody in the world sits up and takes notice, that everybody everywhere is conscious they are experiencing History with a big History Channel capital-H. The world itself seems smaller at these moments, as we sense our connection to each other and to history and to all time. And when one of those real, history-pivoting moments happens, 9 times out of 10 the event is something bad--an assassination or a disaster or a sneak attack. How many times in an average life does the whole world change for the better, overnight? Those moments are worth remembering.

I met Lisa (papersource) ten years ago today. Happy anniversary, baby.

What did you think I was talking about?

(Further reading.)

So E. has been in the hospital since Monday with some kind of infection. They've ruled out all the scary possibilities like meningitis and nobody is ultra concerned, but it is hard to sit with him there all covered with electrodes and IVs - he just doesn't have that much surface area to attach everything.

Plus the logistics of having one parent in the hospital with him at all times and then another parent taking care of a very energetic three-year-old at home. papersource and I see each other in the hospital twice a day - kiss, pass off the car keys and parking pass, and that's that. It gets old fast.

Last night, papersouce said, "We're like Ladyhawke." I HAD JUST BEEN THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING YO. We are geeks, wretched 80s geeks, but is there any doubt we were meant to be together?

A few days have gone by, but I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the sneech515 / dilyshaner wedding last weekend. The weather didn't entirely cooperate, but thunderheads and sheets of rain were no match for Sean & Dilys' 40,000 watts of goofy cheer. Highlights included:

• Customized vows so romantic they made the minister cry. Boo-ya, that's like thirty extra wedding points.
• Giving all the guests clown noses and making them wear them.
• Sean's surprise musical number. I've known him for 20 years, I think that's the first time I've ever seen him sing.
• Yuki's debut on the social scene, at least among that circle of friends. She was a superstar, cooing and charming everyone from start to finish.
• Hammered bridesmaids! (Technically, I'm thinking of one bridesmaid and one female usher. But they were a lot of fun.)
• Ahem... my speech, of course: (Gammafodder's was great, too.)

( Love warrants a post; this kind of mushiness warrants an open bar or at least an LJ cut. )Yeah, that's two killer "is it getting dusty in here?" wedding speeches I've linked to. I'm available for bar mitzvahs, telethons, and corporate functions.

Congratulations, guys. Thanks for a beautiful party.

Early in the morning, full belly, clean bum
I got my cup of Cheerios in case I want some
Jacket, hat, diaper bag, carried out the door
And I know where we’re going cause we’ve been there before

First, thank you all so much for your emails and phone calls and congratulatory comments. The little one is doing great, and her mom is strong and brave and amazing, if a little tired. We still couldn't be more thrilled, and I can't wait to show Yuki off to all of you.

Blah Blah Blah Parenthood Parenthood Me Me Me
The closest analogy I can think of for what the last two weeks has felt like is falling in love. Falling deeply completely in love, 0 to 60 in five seconds. The same euphoria, the same fuzziness of head, the same inability to concentrate on anything except the object of my affections. Food tastes different. The weather's been gorgeous almost every day since she arrived, but I haven't noticed--or to the extent that I have, I've interpreted it as pathetic fallacy, merely the universe paying her tribute. I find myself flashing back to the last time I fell this hard for a girl.

I'll bet you're all thrilled I posted that. Because that's what people who don't have kids are looking for when they log on to the internet: "Boy, I'm dying to know what it's like to be a parent! Give me a treacly, narcissistic, self-satisfied post about breeding that glorifies the author and ever so subtly suggests my own life choices are lacking!" While people who already have kids are just on the edge of their seats to hear all the sage wisdom I've amassed in fourteen freaking days. I don't want to be That Dad, honest. I can't help it, though. Not yet. The "all baby all the time" phase will pass, I'm sure, but for now it remains in full effect.

( Which is why God created LJ-cuts. )

Here (behind the cut) is the front cover of the valentine I drew for papersource one year ago today. She liked it, I think.

( Not for the squeamish or seasonally depressed. You have been warned. )

p.s. We got home, eventually.

I'd better skip ahead a bit, brother: yesterday was eaten up by moving stuff, and my desktop gets packed up tomorrow, and everything else gets packed up Thursday, and then we're in limbo for two weeks and I don't know how much I'll be online.



My 2001 entry was going to be about moving to JP, and the night my car was stolen and we were inexplicably traumatized by a little girl jive-dancing on the subway, coming back from a fancy dinner we couldn't afford. By extension, it was going to be about class and race in America and coming to terms with all that. Though I could have also talked about giving up finger-quotes for Lisa, or getting traction on the dissertation, or the time these dudes flew a couple of planes into some buildings. And then 2002 was all about weddings, ours and the seven others we went to that year. But some of you have been waiting patiently for me to get to gaming, and since it's half of what we talk about around here, I've got to cover it. I just don't know how to do it justice.

( Big pile of gaming memories behind the cut. )

Yeah, you probably had to be there. But if you were there, thanks. Because we were there together.

This post has a soundtrack! It's the song "The Rest of My Life" by the band Sloan, on the album Action Pact. I've been listening to it constantly for the last two weeks, which probably means that for the rest of my life, whenever I hear that song it will take me back to February 2005.

( I started thinking 'bout the rest of my life )

Edit: Hey, I should point out that none of this is quite as impending as I might have made it seem. I mean, we won't be moving until July or August. Certainly not before L's school year is over. It's not like we're going to London tomorrow. Well, actually we are going to London tomorrow, but just for a visit. We're coming back Wednesday. Lots of time between Wednesday and July to see all you Bostonians and do stuff and game and not game and all that.

First things first: congratulations and whoops of excitement for Laura & Sean and Jessica & Jeremiah, and a warm, warm welcome to the world for Baby J and Baby N! Sorry this is both belated and impersonal. I hope I get to give all of you these congratulations in person or at least telephonically soon, and I can't wait to meet the two little cuties in question.

I missed some grownup birthdays too while I was interviewing at Pretty Big Southern U., so let's raise a glass to editswlonghair, equine_cocoon (I love the Bobby Bittman user icon), and America's own "Steve," who has resisted the temptation to give himself an idiotic LJ handle thus far, but might read here from time to time. And almost certainly some others I'm forgetting. Happy birthdays, all.

Lisa is in DC being Number One Daughter this week, which leaves me a bachelor until Saturday. Anyone who feels like entertaining me over the next couple of days is more than welcome to do so. (Her father is in great shape, by the way, recuperating very quickly. Thanks for all the well wishes—they obviously worked.)

Oh hey, I watched Kagemusha last night. You're right, it rocks. Though perhaps a little derivative of Kevin Kline's Dave. Toronto posse: did Lord Shingen/the Kagemusha remind anyone besides me of Grant Dixon? No? Just wondering.

A vague description of my PBSU trip follows in a friends-only post.

Lots of anniversaries today. Eighty-five years ago, the Great Powers signed an Armistice ending the First World War.



Tangent #1: I was walking around Harvard today wondering why nobody was wearing poppies. Do people not wear poppies on Armistice/Veterans/Remembrance Day anymore? Or, is it just a British Empire thing and it's taken me EIGHT YEARS HERE to notice they don't do it in the U.S.? Jeez, absent-minded professor much?

Tangent #2: The difference between the phrase "War to End All Wars" and the phrase "War on Terror" (sorry, "Terruh") is that one war had been over for several years before its nickname started sounding hollow and pathetic.

But enough prattling on about all that... let's talk about me!

Four years ago today, I asked Lisa out for our very first date. (Four years ago yesterday was the party at which we met, so in calling her the next day I was moving much more quickly than my romantic MO prior to that point would indicate. I do in fact know a good thing when I see it.)

And one year ago today, I posted the first throat-clearing little entries in this LiveJournal. Which is actually the point of today's post. Let's see. In one year, I appear to have made 71 journal entries. That strikes me as a fairly anemic rate of posting. 71 entries is about what bryant or mizalaina will generate in a fortnight.

Of course, I'm a busy, busy lad—and handsome, and well-dressed, too—but aren't we all? I'd like to think that I can come up with clever things to say, at least when I've gotten a good night's sleep. But I don't think I've fully embraced the Zen of weblogging, the proper "throw it at the Internet and see what sticks" abandon, the "if you write it, somebody will care." I'm always nixing entries before I write them, thinking "aw, nobody wants to read about that."

So what have those seventy-one posts been about? To quote an obscure but humorous television program featuring a family of jaundiced wisecracking urchins:

Bart: "Grandpa, why don't you tell us a story? You've led an interesting life."
Abe: "That's a lie and you know it!! But I have seen a LOT of movies..."

Or, in my case, "I have read a LOT of books..."

What can I say. My life does not generate a lot of thrilling LJ-able drama. Note: That is not a complaint. I'm an even-tempered guy. I don't have many rants in me. I'm far too happily married to generate dating drama a la (for example) the Accordion Guy's entertaining if often highly protracted serializations of his romantic misadventures. (He's an old college crony of mine, I kid because I love.) And I don't party enough or in hip enough area codes to do my man Gamma Fodder's atomic raver about town thang. L&I do go out fairly often for young marrieds—he said, defensively—we just don't stay out very long when we get there. I could write about my work, of course, but is the world really craving a weblog about the competitive era in early telephony? I don't have coworkers or even a commute to bitch about. I'm not writing a novel this month. I usually avoid comment on current events until I've had a century or so to gain perspective. And I firmly believe what my mother told me as a child: "Robbie, nobody cares about your dreams."

Thing is, I quite like reading all that stuff in everybody else's little cyberdiaries. Just can't bring myself to do it yet.

So this week, I'm going to take requests. What would you like to see in this space? More books? More gossip? More gaming? More chimps? Alternate history? Actual history? Personal history? Nothing at all, thanks? Should I dish about the people on my Friends list? Shall I remember/concoct embarrassing stories out of my past? Interested in what I had for lunch? Would you like to see my Which Carol Burnett Show Cast Member Am I? quiz results? Want to know how I would improve The Rockford Files if it were up to me? Should I regale you with tales of my job search? Maybe keep a running FOAD count in one corner? Want to hear about my hat for D02? Would you like to hear about the competitive era in early telephony? Or the social construction of technological systems? Want me to tell you just what the fuck your problem is? Now's your chance.

Anyway, thanks for reading. We know you have choices when you surf around reading stupid shit on the web and we value your support.