The current Schlock Mercenary story elements that revolve around “breaking bad news” are a direct outgrowth of my own experience with this. In October of 1986 my father called me while I was at college to tell me my mother had been killed in a car accident. In August of 1988 my grandmother called me while I was working as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to tell me that my father had died from a heart attack.

I’ve ruminated a lot since then about how bad news is best broken. I chuckle about it. I sniffle about it. I write speculative fiction in which people do exactly the right, or exactly the wrong things, at least within the fictionalized constraints of the Universe I’ve conjured up for your entertainment. I’ve wondered how I would handle things if I needed to break bad news to someone, and suspect I’d do badly.

This evening my brother Bill called me to tell me that my grandmother passed away today. It was sudden, but not exactly unexpected. Yes, this is the magnificent lady I went to visit this summer, and whose life (I’m told by those in whose care she’s been) I saved by showing up and dragging Bill and Randy (randytayler) along with me. She’d been on the edge this fall, her hearing went out completely, and she was hospitalized recently in an effort to restore it. It worked, but they discovered she was dehydrated, so they kept her for observation, and that meant they got to observe her final minutes today. Apparently they were quiet ones.

Two things emerge from this tale:

1. I’m really, really glad I saw her this summer. She got well enough to fly out to visit us in August, and got to sleep through one of my Sunday School lessons. She was well enough, barely, to see all the grandkids in the flesh one last time. For this I’m very, very thankful.
2. There’s a pattern here I don’t like. Dad told me Mom died. Grandma told me Dad died. Bill told me Grandma died… I think this means that Bill is next.

Bill, if you’re reading this, you can break the curse! The Red Sox won, and Bush beat the Redskins’ prediction, and those were both THIS YEAR! Just don’t go doing anything dumb, like running red lights or eating that poisonous fish they serve in Japan. Don’t go to Japan! For that matter, don’t even get on an airplane!

–Howard
p.s. If you’re an immediate member of the Tayler family, and you are finding out about Grandma Vernon’s death via my Live Journal, it’s Bill’s fault. He TRIED to reach you, but only got your answering machine. He figured “Hey, you know that ‘beeeeeep’ noise your answering machine makes? Grandma did that today, only longer” was not an appropriate use of the technology. Smart kid, that Billy. Pity about the Japanese fish, though.

Suppose for a moment that a new food additive was discovered which had dramatic effects on humans:

1) it acted as a mild depressant.
2) It worked as a sleep aid.
3) Consumed in sufficient doses it was dangerous.
4) When abused, it was downright deadly.
5) It was addictive.

Obviously, the FDA would require all kinds of clinical trials, and the stuff would end up either banned outright or dispensed only under prescription.

I’m being pretty transparent, I know. Alchohol meets these criteria nicely, but because it’s been around for millennia (and because da gummint already TRIED to ban it once) it’s grandfathered in to our diet, our medications, and our culture. Most adults seem to be able to behave responsibly concerning alchohol, and don’t want a minority of substance abusers to ruin things for them.

Okay, let’s switch gears… what about marijuana? All I’ve read on the subject suggests that it’s SAFER than alchohol. Why the stigma? Is this a double-standard? Broad-stroked generalizations suggest that conservatives prefer to keep pot on the no-no list, liberals would like to see it legal for medicinal purposes, and libertarians would just as soon ALL regulations regarding pot, alchohol, tobacco, and anything else not immediately death-inducing be done away with because people are smarter than the government gives them credit for.

I’m not sure whether this post has a point or not. It’s just something I’ve been ruminating on, and it’s little more than an intellectual excercise for me. I don’t drink alchohol, and won’t smoke marijuana whether or not it’s legal. Y’all can pretty much do what you want.

Then again, my mother was killed by a drunk driver. He got the death penalty, self-administered, which is about what I think most drunk drivers deserve. We’ve got legislation starting to lean in that direction (albeit from a great, great distance), because the gummint has ample evidence that people are not as smart as they think they are once they start drinking.

Okay, now I’m rambling. But I wrote something today.

–Howard

I can count the number of video games I’ve beaten as an adult (with and without the help of walkthroughs) on one hand…

1) Pokemon Snap
2) Super Mario 64
3) Gauntlet Dark Legacy

It’s possible there are others, but I doubt it. Mostly I play games to relax, and when they start making me uptight I quit and do something else.

Yesterday evening I picked back up on the Metroid Prime game I’d abandoned back at 18% completion (or something like that). The kids gathered round, and I’ve had a good old time figuring out where all the buttons are again.

Then this evening the game again got sticky and difficult, fighting some dang rock monster boss in blinding snow. I may be ready to give it up again and go do something else.

(No, I don’t need your hints. I’ve already paged through several walkthroughs, and if I play MP any further, it’ll be walkthrough all the way.)

–Howard

Today I finished the last two commercial commissions for the project I’ve been grinding away at for the last month. It feels pretty good.

It feels “I want to go have a party” good, in fact.

Unfortunately, I forged three days ahead of deadline on that project at the expense of doing any buffer-fu today. *sigh*. Like I said before, there’s always more work to do than there is me to do it with. So… no party today. Maybe tomorrow I can get chalain to break out the chaos toys.

–Howard