One word at a time (or two or three...)

Nicole tagged me with this, and it's only supposed to be one word each. Since I'm not always overly concerned with rules I have not followed that convention.

Edit: I have now changed some of my entries after having been severely chastened by Nicole who is apparently much more interested in the 'letter of the law' than I was.

Yourself: Enthusiastic
Your Partner: Organized
Your Hair: Brown
Your Mother: Pipsqueak
Your Father: Steady
Your Favorite Item: MacBook
Your Dream Last Night: Code
Your Favorite Drink: Orderville Water (I drew the line here because water is not just water)
Your Dream Car: 1969 Dodge Charger Hemi
Your Dream Home: Self-Made
The Room You Are In: Clean
Your Ex: Tall
Your Fear: Incapacitation
Where You Want To Be In Ten Years: Professor
Who You Hung Out With Last Night: Nicole
What You Are Not: Delicate
Muffins: Apple Cinnamon
One Of Your Wish List Items: 24" iMac
Time: Night
The Last Thing You Did: Eat
What You Are Wearing: Hat
Your Favorite Weather: Hot
Your Favorite Book: Tolkien
The Last Thing You Ate: Soup
Your Life: Peachy
Your Mood: Mellow
Your Best Friends: Geeks
What You Are Thinking About Right Now: Computers
Your Car: Passat
What You Are Doing At The Moment: Studying
Your Summer: Fun
Relationship Status: Eternal
What Is On Your TV: White Christmas
What Is The Weather Like: Cold
When Is The Last Time You Laughed: Today

Silent Night...

Since the reason for my favorite Christmas song/hymn was unanimously missed (multiple times by some) I've decided to set the record straight.

As an unofficial student of military history, I came across something when I was 16 that changed the way I would look at life forever. There are several accounts of this story published and I'm sure many more that sadly have passed from this world with those who experienced it. So I'll stick with two of them.

The first is the account told by British soldiers on the Western Front of World War I. On the evening of December 24, 1914 British troops at several places noticed small lights appearing above the German trenches. Those who could see through the mist soon passed on that the Germans were holding small Christmas trees adorned with candles. Through the cold night air came the words, "Stille nacht, Heilige nacht..." and soon the English version joined in. Soon, men who 12 hours before had no other object in mind than killing each other and staying alive were mingling and exchanging gifts in "no man's land." It has been reported that soccer matches were played on ground pockmarked with artillery craters. In one place a German officer provided beer not only for his troops, but for the British troops opposite them. Despite the disapproval of higher ranking officers, those soldiers on both sides of the line put down their weapons for a few hours to commemorate the birth of the Savior of the world.

The second is an account from the 101st Airborne Division, in Bastogne, Belgium December 24th, 1944. Those who have seen or read Band of Brothers will remember that the 101st (particularly Easy Co. in this case) defended Bastogne through the worst of the Battle of the Bulge and by Christmas, the tide was about to turn. That night, Christmas Eve, soldiers on the lines and in town heard German voices singing those very same words, "Stille nacht, Heilige nacht..." While there were no soccer games recounted, or (to my knowledge) any gift exchanges or other face to face exchanges, soldiers on both sides put down their weapons for a brief time to remember Christmas.

It was about that same time in my life that my friend Jenny introduced me to the Garth Brooks song, Belleau Wood. Not entirely historically accurate as far as I have been able to piece together, but worth a listen.

As a young man with a great-grandfather who may well have experienced a similar unofficial Christmas truce during his time in France in 1918, a grandfather who may have done in World War II, a father who spent a Christmas in Iraq in 1990, and whose only goal in life at the time was to be an Army Ranger these accounts affected me greatly. Silent Night has been my favorite hymn since that time, when I learned that through the miracle of Christmas even soldiers on opposite sides of the field of battler can recognize that each celebrates the very same thing, the birth of our Savior. Even though I am now a civilian and will not likely wear the uniform again, I wholeheartedly wish my fellow soldiers, "Merry Christmas" and hope that they too can find a quiet moment on that most holy night.

The Aftermath: Then and Now

As we all know, yesterday marked the 65th anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. This was not a normal act of war, but a cowardly act planned and prepared while their diplomats covered the action by a false attempt to reach an agreement in Washington. There was virtually no warning. Their only (very feeble) excuse was that it was an attempt to neutralize the clearly superior US military presence in the Pacific. The only small consolation we can take from that event was that the vast majority of the casualties were soldiers, those who knew that a possible outcome of their service could very well be death.

On that terrible morning, 2,335 servicemen and 68 civilians lost their lives, as well as over 1,000 wounded.

Just over 5 years ago, something very similar happened when hijacked airliners crashed into the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon. This also was a cowardly attack, but without even the poor excuse of trying to gain military superiority as was the case with Pearl Harbor. The terrorists who orchestrated those attacks did so with no military goal in mind, with no other design than to terrorize the American people and to destroy our way of life. This was not an attack on soldiers who, however unprepared they were, could fight back. This was an attack on innocent civilians, for many of whom the thought that their chosen profession could result in their death had never occurred.

On that terrible morning, 2,973 people lost their lives, including 343 NYFD firefighters, 23 NYPD officers, and 37 Port Authority Police officers. As with Pearl Harbor, there were also over 1,000 people wounded.

65 years ago, the response of the American people was swift and resolute. The United States immediately declared war on Japan, and almost immediately afterward on Germany and Italy. We entered a war that a large portion of the American public had previously been dead set against becoming involved in. Despite the large numbers of casualties, the public supported the war effort enthusiastically. Gasoline, iron, and even tires were rationed. The public opinion was that the war must be won at all costs. America's involvement in the war lasted from December 1941 to August 1945, with U.S. military occupation of of Germany and Japan continuing for years afterward. This was not achieved without great cost. Over 400,000 American soldiers and over 11,000 American civilians lost their lives. Nearly half a million Americans died as a result of that cowardly attack, and of the actions of Germany and Italy in Europe.

Public response to the attacks on the World Trade Center was every bit as swift and every bit as serious. The nation was united as it hadn't been in years. The war on terror was almost immediately launched to prevent similar attacks on the American people. The war in Iraq was initiated ostensibly to prevent Saddam Houssein from using WMD's, and also to curtail Iraqi support of Al Qaeda. In the war in Iraq, nearly (and maybe more by now) 2,500 American soldiers have died. In Operation Enduring Freedom (the war on terrorism) there have been less than 500 deaths. This is less than 1% of the American military casualties in World War 2. Yet somehow, despite the fact that terrorist attacks still happen somewhat frequently (obviously not major ones like the WTC or London Subway attacks) the American public has lost interest in the effort. Al Qaeda and Taliban forces still do virtually whatever they want in the Middle East. Extremist clerics call for the destruction of the United States and state that they and "their people" will fight us until we are utterly destroyed. Yet somehow, the American public and Congress have lost heart for this effort. War is terrible, certainly, but it is no more terrible now than it was 65 years ago.

My question is this: What has changed in the last 65 years? For that matter, what changed between 1941 and 1968? In both instances, as many people died in one day in the event that instigated the conflict than have died since the World Trade Center attacks. Why is it that in World War 2 the news being brought to the American public, while it contained casualty reports, was of the advancement of the front lines in Europe, which islands we had retaken in the Pacific, and how much damage we were doing to the enemy? Why is it that now all we hear in the news is the "terrible death toll" and how many problems are still cropping up?

So as we remember the tragic events of Pearl Harbor and the conflict that followed, let's not forget to have some perspective on the tragic events of 9/11/2001 and the conflict that has followed. Let's not place a thin veneer of "Support our troops" over the apathy and disinterest that seem to be appearing everywhere. Could the war have been won 60 years ago if we supported our troops then the way we do now? How many of us would be willing to give up the rubber-band thin tires on our shiny SUV's to support the efforts of our soldiers in the Middle East? How many of us would park our cars and walk to our destinations in the cold so the soldiers could have the fuel they need to carry on the fight? Let's remember the brave soldiers who fought in earlier conflicts, and the brave citizens who supported them. Let's not dishonor their memory by the thin facade of "support" that seems to prevalent.


[Disclaimer: In making this post I am not dismissing the fact that American soldiers are dying. If I hadn't met Nicole when I did and had her hearty encouragement not to re-enlist, I would almost definitely be over there with them. I am fully aware that there are people in this country who truly support our troops and their mission. I am merely stating that there is a large difference between the resolution of the American public and media as a whole in the aftermath of two very similar events.]

[Most of my information on casualties came from Wikipedia.org if you care. If I have inaccurate information feel free to correct me and I'll update this post accordingly.]

Christmas Interrogation...

I guess I have officially been "tagged". I don't know who started the whole "blog tag" idea, and I'm not sure I want to, but Nicole said she "tagged" me so here goes...

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate? Hot chocolate. With LOTS of whipped cream. And maybe a peppermint tossed in.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? At my folks' house they are usually unwrapped.

3. Colored lights or white lights? Any and all colors, except solid blue. What the heck does that have to do with Chrismas?

4. Do you hang mistletoe? That's a really good idea... :)

5. When do you put your decorations up? After Thanksgiving. I usually cave and let Nicole put them up the day before we leave for Thanksgiving so they will be up when we get back.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Meat. Any kind.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child? Nicole thinks I'm weird because I don't have very many specific, time-stamped memories from before I was 11 or 12, so I'll just say all of them.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? When I was five or six my dad dressed up as Santa for his company's Christmas party. How I picked my dad's tanker boots out of all the other soldiers was a mystery, but at the time, my dad was the only adult I knew with blue-grey eyes. We didn't openly admit as a family the truth about Santa until I was 12.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Usually.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? That'll probably be up to Nicole at some future point when we have a tree.

11. Snow: love it or dread it? I am definitely a summer person, but I don't mind the snow.

12. Can you ice skate? I can fall on my can and make a really good attempt at breaking my butt-bone...

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? Although the trip to Hawaii this year from Nicole's parents was a doozy as far as presents go, the one I think I appreciated the most was when I was 14, I wanted to start bow-hunting but there was no money for a bow, then on Christmas morning a left-handed (important for me) bow I had seen in a pawn shop a few weeks earlier showed up on my chair. That gift resulted in some great memories with me and my dad.

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you? The birth of the Savior.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert? My mom's cinnamon rolls. Or my mom's homemade saltwater taffy.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Every Christmas Eve back home I would go to the grave of my uncle Pete (he died shortly after birth) and tell him Merry Christmas and tell him how my year was. I haven't done that for a year or two, maybe next year when we're in Orderville again...

17. What tops your tree? My folks had a cardboard star wrapped carefully in tinfoil for a long time. Even though we don't have a tree, I'll always remember that tinfoil star.

18. Which do you prefer: giving or receiving? Having the ability to give. For most of my life growing up, we made presents for people, and I never felt like I could make anything that anybody would want, other than my parents. It's nice now to be able to get presents that I know will be better than my feeble attempt to make something. It's equally as nice to have the know-how to make something useful and or nice.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song? Silent Night. The first person to guess the correct reason why gets a prize.

20. Candy canes: yuck or yum? Definitely tasty...


Oh, and I tag...No one.

Vindicated!!!

As some of you may know, I have taken heat over the years from various people (some of you may even be in that category) for slouching or reclining backwards as I sit. Nicole gets after me for leaning the driver's seat of our car back so far and for sitting sideways on the couch leaning back on the arm. My mother has gotten after me for years to "sit up straight..." Well, now I have been vindicated. This article states that some recent research using magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) indicates that a position reclined back 135 degrees with your feet still on the floor provides the best support for your back while sitting for long periods of time.

So, next time any of you roll your eyes when I say that you need to have the proper amount of "slouch", remember that for once I may just be right. (wouldn't that be something...)

You can take the boy out of the desert...

But you can't take the desert out of the boy. Also, I would argue with the fact that you can take the boy out of the desert for very long. But that doesn't sound nearly as (insert adjective for poetic or literary here).

Nicole and I went to Orderville for the Thanksgiving holiday last week. I must say that the combination of my mother's home-made noodles in turkey soup, home-made stuffing, home-made pies... well, you can imagine that I didn't do much other than lay around and suffer on Thursday afternoon.

Friday we went hiking and shooting (the two pretty much go together, but I thought I'd spell it out for those of you who hike on trails in populated areas :-p).

People often ask me why I haven't been to more places in Zion than I have been, considering it's 15 minutes away. This is why:

My dad has a Heckler & Koch (HK) USP Tactical .45 that I quite enjoy to commandeer when I go down, as well as his HK G3 (NOT the select fire military version, the semi-auto only civilian version). Both are extremely sweet-shooting pieces (although it's much easier to double-tap with an AR-15 than the G3) and I have to bust a few caps whenever we go down.

Maybe next time we go I'll take some pictures of my own rifle and do another post, but as for now, it's back to the old programming project...

Why do I love Hawai'i...?

Well, we've been home for a month now, so I should probably quit dragging my feet. We spent the last two weeks of August in Hawaii with Nicole's parents, and I'm finally posting my account of our trip.

Let me begin by saying that even though I'm a desert boy through and through, I love Hawaii. The first time I went 3 years ago I was completely spellbound, and I couldn't even completely or coherently say why. Nicole laughed at me because I would just stand there and watch the ocean come rolling in. After 3 years and another trip, I think I've figured it out. I'll start by describing the area I come from for those of you (most if not all) who haven't been there. Orderville, Utah is in a valley in between Cedar Mountain in southern Utah and the Arizona Strip. Despite being in a valley, it sits at around 6500 feet above sea level. It was the perfect place for someone like me to grow up. An hour in one direction I would be at close to 11,000 feet, and surrounded by thick forest and volcanic peaks. An hour in another direction and I would be in the middle of Zion National Park with its white and red sandstone mountains. The same distance in yet another direction would put me in the middle of the desert, with scruffy sage-brush, junipers and cactus. Despite the fact that most of Utah has been mostly "civilized" many of these places (with the exception of Zion) are quite untamed, and when I would spend time there it would be a rare occasion to see another person unless you were fairly close to the roads.

All of this leads me to Hawaii, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Hawaii is the most geographically isolated population center on the planet, with more than 2,000 miles of ocean
surrounding it in all directions. Standing on the beach looking out at the ocean, you can be relatively certain that there is not another human being between you and the farthest point on the horizon that you can see. As untamed as my favorite places in the desert and mountains around my home are, the ocean is even more so. The wave splashing your feet may have traveled from the other side of the world, and seen sights that no person ever has. It also happens that Maui, where we spent our first week, has a "desert side" with volcanic rock formations and wide flat spaces that look like they could have been picked up out of southern Utah and dropped there, just so I could feel at home when I visit. Kauai's Waimea Canyon looks like any number of places around Bryce Canyon and Cedar Breaks would look if they got a few hundred more inches of rain per year. Despite the green, the red volcanic rock and dirt makes me feel like I could be in my old stomping grounds, with my old brown truck, my rifle, and our old dog Kane.

All of this still doesn't completely explain why I love Hawaii so much, and why I feel so at home and content there, but it's a start. So here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip. Those of you who know me well will know why each is included, and those of you who don't can feel free to guess.

Das Blinkenlights

ACHTUNG! ALLES LOOKENSPEEPERS!

Alles touristen und non-technischen looken peepers! Das computermachine ist nicht fuer gefingerpoken und mittengrabben. Ist easy schnappen der springenwerk, blowenfusen und poppencorken mit spitzensparken. Ist nicht fuer gewerken bei das dumpkopfen. Das rubbernecken sichtseeren keepen das cotten-pickenen hans in das pockets muss; relaxen und watchen das blinkenlichten.

This sign is part of an entry in the Jargon File describing the nostalgia of the old indicator lights on the front panels of "primitive" computers. Since I am but a budding hacker, I don't remember the register indicators of the legendary machines on which Unix was built and the C language developed, but I do remember the time when the human eye could still detect the flicker of the disk and processor lights on computers that we owned when I was young. These days, it's extremely rare for a signal to exist that would blink a light slowly enough that it didn't appear to be a steady glow.

Then, a beautiful thing happened. School has started again, and I'm now in the 7AM shift at work. As part of this "opportunity" I get to go down to the server room every morning and change the backup disks. Looking through the window on the door and seeing rows of pretty green and blue lights on the server rack is so much fun (not to mention pretty). Which brings me to another point.

When I was a lot younger (as in more than 10 years ago) we owned an Apple IIGS computer and a color ImageWriter II printer. As I mentioned in my post about fantasy and FRPG's, I spent countless hours on that old gem. I remember the whine and screech of that ImageWriter and the awe-inspiring 4 and 8 bit color graphics on the games I used to play. I remember the gigantic 8 inch floppy disks we used to store family history files on. Here at work the nostalgia goes back even farther than that to days that I can only read about. We have a peg hanging on the wall in the front of the office with disk platters hanging on it. One of the hard disk platters is from the old "washing machine" drives. We have a few floppy disk platters, a platter from the BigFoot drives of the early to mid 90's, and of course some 3.5 and 2.5 inch platters from modern PC and laptop drives.

It's incredible to realize how far technology has come in 15 years. Bard's Tale III, the Thief of Fate kept me busy for 3 years starting at age 9 or 10. This game that seemed so huge and expansive came on 1 3.5 inch floppy disk and required another 3.5 disk for a "character/save game" disk. A grand total of 2.8 megabytes of data kept me spellbound for 3 years. Neverwinter Nights, my newest CFRPG friend, comes on 4 CD's (2800 megabytes give or take) and has graphics and effects that weren't even conceived of being done on a computer when I was playing Bard's Tale. 640x480 resolution was once a huge chunk of screen, yet now I sit in front of 1280x1024 and wish I had more and bigger to keep track of all of the things I do side-by-side.

Yes, computers have come a long way. The use-ability and user-friendliness (or lack thereof) is a topic for another day and a much taller soap-box. But for now, I'll continue to be amazed at these machines that I enjoy so much. I'll continue to learn how they work and how to make them do whatever I want. And soon, when my new MacBook gets here, I'll have a whole new world to explore. Until that time, I'll continue to pause at the door to the server room with an armful of disks and drool over the pretty blinkenlights.

Middle Earth

I read The Hobbit for the first time when I was 11 years old, in the beginning of my 6th grade year. Having played fantasy role-playing computer games for a few years, I was no stranger to the idea of hobbits, elves, dwarves, goblins, trolls, and other mythical races and creatures but I had never—and haven't since—read anything quite like The Hobbit. I was completely mystified. Having recently moved back to Orderville when my dad got out of the Army, life wasn't very much fun for me at that time. Moving into a small town where the class you move into has been together since kindergarten, at that age when kids aren't the nicest to each other left me in desperate need of a way to get away from real life, if only in my imagination. The story is written perfectly to capture the imagination of an 11-year-old whose imagination needs to be captured. Tolkien tells us about what Bilbo was doing and feeling, but is somewhat general about most everything else, which is fitting since the story was originally one he wrote for his children. My imagination filled in the details with images that I can still clearly see. I live in Provo, at the foot of Squaw Peak and just south of Mt. Timpanogos on the western edge of the Wasatch and Uintah Mountains in Utah. Sometimes when it's stormy it appears that the top of Mt. Timpanogos just vanishes up into the clouds and it looks like the mountain goes up forever with no top. At those times a small part of my mind is Bilbo, looking up at the Misty Mountains (now you all know that I really am weird). Whenever I go into wooded areas where the light doesn't quite all make it down to ground level, that same small part of me is Bilbo in Mirkwood Forest, trying to find the dwarves. Every time I read The Hobbit I get the same sense of wonder that I did 15 years ago, and I never get tired of reading it. Each time a part of my mind wanders down to the past when I was 11 years old and all I had to worry about was getting picked on at school and escaping from my cares with Bilbo and the dwarves.

Not long after reading The Hobbit I read The Lord of the Rings for the first time. Even though I was young (maybe 12 or 13) I remember being struck by the depth of wisdom showed by some of the characters and seing a clear contrast between the "for children" style of The Hobbit and the depth of The Lord of the Rings. Since that time I have read all 4 of the books every year (except while on my mission) and sometimes twice in a year. I'm currently sitting in the Council of Elrond (for the 18th time) trying to decide with them what to do with the One Ring. And this time, like all the rest, it's almost like I'm there.

The Silmarillion followed a year or two later when my dad told me about it. I think I was 14 or 15 at the time, and at first it seemed really boring. The Silmarillion is Tolkien's account of the creation of Middle Earth and the events that shaped the world long before we ever hear of hobbits. Many of the legends and songs in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings make reference to the events told in The Silmarillion, when the elves and the first men fought against Morgoth trying to regain the Silmarils he stole. I did notice, however, that there were some amazing similarities between the beginning chapters detailing the creation of Middle Earth, and the creation story found in the Bible. At that point in my life, Tolkien's treatment of the necessity of evil made more sense to me than much that I had "learned" in church. So every other year or so I read The Silmarillion again and remember just how much work Tolkien did to create a world that was true to his beliefs and to document the entire world of it, and not just the 4 books from it that happen to be the most popular.

These books represent a special place for me. By reading them and becoming so immersed in them when I was young they, like the scriptures, shaped my perspective on life. When I read them I am taken back to a simpler time. Back then, I went to school, shot guns, lifted weights, and read. I remember how I felt when I read them for the first time. Everyone has a "special place" that represents happiness or peace. Nicole's is Disneyland. Mine happens to be an entire world, populated by elves and dwarves, orcs and trolls, hobbits and from time to time a stranger just getting away from computers, cars, bills, and school.

Fantasy and RPG's

My love of Fantasy Role Playing Games (FRPG's) began a long time before I knew that Dungeons and Dragons existed. Believe it or not, it was the Walt Disney movie Sleeping Beauty that started it. When Prince Phillip went chopping his way through all of those little goblin critters on his way out of the dungeon and fought Maleficent in her dragon form, my 5-year-old imagination was hooked. Then, when I was 7 or 8, my dad acquired a Commodore 64 computer. What I wouldn't give to know the name of the first dungeon crawl I played on that old gem. You explored a dungeon, finding treasure and fighting goblins, trolls, ghosts, (dreaded) drakes, and other monsters. When you were killed, it played a little midi version of the death march. Then, along came a game called Questron 2, which actually had a story beyond going deeper and deeper into a dungeon killing monsters. Not long after initially being introduced to Questron 2, an Apple IIgs replaced the Commodore, and with it came a bunch of my uncle's games that wouldn't play on his new Macs. In addition to the Apple version of Questron 2, I now had Wizardry I, II, and III and Bard's Tale I, II, and III. I was a 9-year-old in absolute heaven. On Saturdays I would get up long before anyone else to rush through my chores so I could play my computer games. Bard's Tale III: The Thief of Fate was the "newest" and had the best graphics, so naturally it drew my main attention. Some of the quests/puzzles in the game were a bit tricky for a 9 year old kid, but I persevered, started over, persevered, and started over until at last when I was 14 I finally beat that blasted game.

When my dad got home from Operation: Desert Storm in the spring of 1991, he started playing a pseudo-RPG with us where he would tell the story and we would say what we wanted our characters to do. It was very simple, but I was enthralled. Then one day in the fall of 1991, I picked up The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien for the first time. I'll just say that The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings led to more fantasy novels from the Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms series, and more FRPG fun.

When I got home from my mission in 2001, I picked up a copy of Icewind Dale and discovered that computer games had come along way indeed since The Thief of Fate. That winter, when I wasn't at work in St. George, coaching the wrestling team at my high school, hunting varmints, or sleeping, I was forging my intrepid party farther in the frozen wastelands of "Faerun" (the world in which Icewind Dale and other Forgotten Realms stories take place). Having been a while since playing DnD, keeping the characters in my first party alive required nothing short of tactical brilliance, and sometimes the only thing that worked was starting over from a saved game several times.

After Icewind Dale, came Icewind Dale II and eventually my latest "spare time killer" Neverwinter Nights. As the games have gotten newer and (in most cases) better, I've come to the conclusion that I still like Dungeons and Dragons. All of the computer games I've played in recent years (except for the Diablo series) have been based on the official DnD rules (and the Bard's Tale series was loosely based on them as well). DnD rules make for a game environment where character development is (for me) almost as fun as progression through the story. I can begin a game with a character or group of characters that I have imagined up, and play them entirely and consistently according to my imagination.

I attribute a good deal of my "imaginativity" and creativity to my experience with fantasy and FRPG's. Nicole just rolls her eyes when I say that, but where else would a 9 year old kid find the necessity of using creative solutions to problems in a manner that he likes? Although I greatly enjoy reading, sometimes it's kind of fun to play an FRPG where you are (in a way) writing your own book as you play, especially in the games that allow for good character development and widely varying options for different types of characters. Aside from the imaginatory and creative benefits I've gained from reading fantasy and playing FRPG's, it makes for a nice escape from reality every now and then (since I don't play nearly as much or as often as I used to), and isn't that what taking a break is all about?