Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

Tales of Yore



We face our destinies:

Glover River, Oklahoma USA

On Sunday afternoon, my nephew and I set out to the Main Event, a Plano establishment which offers a wide variety of video games and similar diversions. When we embark on such journeys, we eschew the joys of bowling, laser tag, lifeless pizza and virtual reality spacecraft. We instead angle for the arcade-style diversions that allow one to win nearly value-less tickets.

We use mental discipline to achieve our goals:

Interwoven 26

We use simple statements to express eternal truths. "It's not about the fun!", we say, "it's about the tickets!". We exhort one another to take care of business, not that we have any business to consider it all a business, but because we wish to give it the business, in a business-like way.

We arcade like men with a mission

We focus on the task at hand.

eyes forward

We each play the machine called "Deal or No Deal". We each make deals to snare us massive ticket return. The arcade no longer issues tickets--they are tracked robotically on our arcade cards.

We skee-ball, we Wheel of Fortune, we hammer the dumb-bell onto the big silver thing.
We try every game, regardless of its absurdity--or rather, only those games that we estimate might yield tickets.

We succeed like gangbusters

Eye of the Storm

Between us, we win 1,200 tickets. This is not enough to anything anyone would really want to own. But it does buy a radio-controlled car of dubious quality, and a plethora of nearly worthless dime store things.

When we adjourn, to a store called Gamestop to buy my nephew a game called Age of Empires III for his birthday, we wake the wakefulness of the just. We have been.
We have done. We have seen. We won meaningless tickets. Give us a plaque.

segue into evening

Atmospheric Disturbance

Sunday evening I got together with my 12 year old friend that I mentor through a mentoring program. We had been a while between meetings, for reasons not reflecting on either of us. We spent the evening learning to program in the Logo programming language.
Soon my young friend used his new computer vocabulary to make a picture of extraordinary beauty.

When the evening concluded, I was able to give a gift I had picked up on a recent Autumn trip to the Red River section of Oklahoma.

Arcanthrosaurus head

I had found a clay ocarina from Peru in the Red River Valley Museum gift shop, on sale for the princely sum of 7 dollars. I presented it to my very musical young friend.
As I drove him home, he began to work out the notes to the Zelda "time" song.
That is what epic heroes do.
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