Pokémon Go

I fought; I resisted; I failed.

The pressures from my best friend and brother tempted me, yet I stayed strong.

The desire to fit in at work and participate in a new fad started to allure me, yet my resolve was firm.

Ten seconds in a car with my nine-year-old nephew and older sister brought the walls crumbling down and the game that I had enjoyed sharing mocking memes merely minutes before was now being downloaded with enthusiasm.

I was now officially a part of the great craze of 2016: Pokémon Go.

The game is small, 56 MB, and quick to install. 

It was a snap to launch and I was happily greeted with friendly Nintendo sounds that plucked away at emotional strings tied to memories of when I was the age of my young kin.

The graphics were animated just right for me, being neither too cartoony or too serious, but conveyed the Goldilocks vibe of being "just right."

The avatar was fun to set and far less involved than games such as Skyrim, making for a quick customization and a let's-go-already kind of setup.

Having been picked up from my work in the south of Calgary, the journey north to my sister's meant a decent trek on Macleod Trail and through downtown.

Densely populated areas are good it seems.

Pokémon Go  is easy to understand for anyone who has ever used a phone for navigation at any point.

Your avatar is the substatute for the usual arrow that is always at the centre of a GPS map, and instead of showing  upcoming areas of interest --AOI-- such as gas stations or Tim Horton's, the map displays points out focus areas for the game that are set in physical locations nearby.

Close proximity to an AOI matters and will affect your ability to interact with objects on the map.

Walking sacrifices speed for proximity but allows any AOI nearby to be investigated; however, being a passanger in a vehicle can help pad your stats in a much shorter period of time. Much shorter time indeed.

While driving, things come and things go quickly and if the distance is too far, you will be out of range, where all you can do is shrug your shoulders and murmur "life, eh" in your best French accent and try to forget about the one that got away.

Some places allow you to gain resources while others encourage battle. At my current level I am limited to being able to only entertain the former and not the latter.

Critters are interesting to catch because you click them on the map when they randomly appear, causing the map to disappear and you then find yourself viewing the images from the lens of your smartphone's camera instead.

There is, however, a small difference than what you would normally see when looking at the screen of your camera  because now when you pan around you there is a target to aquire.

You will see a lil' fel'er bouncing around menicingly on the screen that you can't see with your own eyes when you look at the same spot (unless of course you are just coming home from a rave and are not actually playing Pokémon). The objective here is to catch them (or drink lots of water and think happy thoughts).

Catching one is achieved by flicking your thumb up the screen in the direction of the critter, thereby launching Poké balls at them which traps them.

Some are easy to hit while others require the assistance of a nearby nine-year-old nephew.

Be mindful that just because you catch one doesn't mean you get to keep it.

Some of the little buggers can escape.

In the event one escapes, keep cool and say no to Poké-rage.

Where it gets interesting from my limited experience is when you are riding in a car and you have to point the camera in the direction of the driver.

My sister was never a fan of me throwing things at her in our youth, but age has mellowed her it seems and was quite understanding as I missed the random critters, resulting in her being "hit" instead.

Once.

Maybe a couple of times.

A lot.

I really am not good at this game quite yet.

I could not have picked a better route to start my Pokémon career because during the 20 minute car-ride I managed to capture six lil' critters and a bunch of swag to accompany them.
 
My sister accurately describes it as a treasure hunt and to think of ourselves as members of the Goonies.

Having reached level three so swiftly seemed to excite my nephew. The ramifications of this quick ascension have yet to be fully understood as I now must wait until tomorrow to continue this journey and figure out how to keep the momentum alive.

There is much I have yet to learn about this game. What are these things I just caught? Can I eat them? Are eggs a good thing or are they going to hatch and go all Alien on me?

What I like about it so far is that I can't play it when I am in bed when I should be blogging, but most importantly, sharing the excitement of my first hunt with my nephew and sister in a game they helped convert me to enjoying.

I fought; I resisted; I failed...and am happy because of it.

I will wrap up this peroration by stating that family is the most important thing   methinks.

Cheery bye until next time.

My View of the 2016 American Election

I am enjoying the American election news coverage. Such emotion and creative repetoir from both of the parties and their respective flock of supporters and spin-doctors.
The entire professional spectrum of journalism and pseudo-journalism  --from major news outlets to bloggers and vice-versa surprisingly often-- has come out to play and made for an all-day intense and hyped orgy-esque reporting of what,  let's be honest here, is mainly morally minded minutiae .
People are putting a lot of time and effort into their arguments and writings, which is leading to some wonderful pen-person-ship and story-telling.
Truly entertaining and fun to follow.
Such passion in a growing ocean of opinion, fed by melting the iceshelves of fact through the global warming need to be heard, it has flooded and muddied all fact and is now likely impossible for there to be an opinion on the matter that has not yet been voiced.
The outcome of this election is curious indeed because no one can accurately read the future; based upon the sea of information flooding the screens of cellphones, tablets --and the antiquated computer screen in some ancient-backwood offices -- November is certain to be remembered as a pivotal moment of the 21st century.
This truly is an exciting moment of history to be a part of, whether on the bandwagon of Left vs Right or as voiceless observer moved to tears of frustration or the urge to eat popcorn and enjoy the show, whatever the case, this is turning out to be quite the binge-watch.
Netflix has nothing on this trip.

bartender part I

A smashing start to an early a.m. broken promise, with the high hangover taking court and any semblance of healthy feeling a distant memory.
The bar was quiet and in the shadow of a room designed to depend upon darkness filled with colourful artificial lighting.
The first step was coffee. Oh man, today was a bad one.
Walking through the tightly fit bartender's cove, Jake managed to pinball himself off one counter to another cooler until he finally came to an opening that only required him to turn right, walk three steps and enjoy the fresh pot of Java that, by any indication of the happy aroma, awaited with enthusiasm.
Cup poured, it was time to start the new day's open.

Pride

03Sept13, early a.m.,

My rant for today is about being a proud human being.

I have lived a wonderful life because I was raised by wonderful parents with wonderful siblings. That is not to say we have not had our complications along the way.

I don’t feel like getting into specific details, but I recently had a falling out with a family member.

If you include alcohol with any camping trip, there is usually a story to tell.

I went camping with my brother. Much, much, much alcohol was involved.

There is a story to tell.

It is currently still being told, so I cannot give the conclusion at this time. The best update I can present is that I recently sent over an offering of meat, cheese, and liquor. I received a text thanking me for the offering, and promise of further communication.

Details do not matter, but sometimes with family it is easy to feel too comfortable, and thoughts best reserved for kicking a can down the street while swearing are actually shared.

Everyone has dark thoughts about the ones we love. They usually are just that: thoughts.

Sometime, however, a moment can produce a perfect storm, and every dark thought is summoned by the maelstrom of family discontent.

Small things that are of an inconsequential nature can start screaming for attention, resulting in perhaps not the greatest of action. Compounded with liquor, and there is a great movement of mental chaos.

Nothing major,  just a disagreement.

Anger and its fellow emotions often lead to regret when given the opportunity of taking the wheel.

As terrible as it may have gotten, the anger was foreign.  Family is important.

I was in the wrong, even though I was in the right.

This was a case of pride having to take the back seat.

I have no problem with pride. I think it is important. There are many things we should be proud of; however, when our pride affects how I am viewed by others, especially those close to me, I sometimes have to take a step back.

A conflict will occur when two people think they are right and have different views of the same situation with the person they are in grievance with.

It is easy to stick with your belief. You are right.

What is hard to maintain is the consequence of being “right”.

A battle that everyone loses is no victory. I think I heard that on Star Trek once.

Stepping back from a situation, and maybe not accepting guilt, but perhaps making an offering, can lead to a continuation of communication.

If the person is worth it, there is no reason to try.
I've made my effort towards fixing a wrong. Can you say the same?
I certainly hope so.

Wish me luck while I wish you luck.

Chris

When confronted with a knife for the first time

I was in a fight the other day.

It was an experience that I think worthy of recording.

The reason it stands out as such a triumph is because it not only gave me a cold splash of water in the face of reality, but also had me act counter-culture to what would perhaps be considered good and decent in the world of today.

I stood up for myself.

A silly argument not even worthy of recollection led to a knife being drawn.

Being a person of character, I have found myself in unique and questionable situations in the past, offering wisdom and experience for most odd-out-of-the-blue realities that sometimes just have to make themselves known.

This, however, was a unique experience with no real guidance from my coloured past.

My first response upon seeing a weapon drawn was to take advantage of my superior height and size and attempt to neutralise the threat. Or, in basic English, I reached for the knife.

There was no thought involved, just reaction.

In years now long turned to memory, I did train in karate at a fairly competitive level. I did spend a little bit of time in the military. I recently completed a very serious six-month weight training program.  It was odd. My conscious thoughts were put on hold as instinct flooded my rational thinking with basic situational thoughts.

Everything in my life that had been bothering me up to the point of spotting the knife was just instantly gone. Knowledge of my name was absent as my full attention was on my adversary, his weapon, and proximity to the rail –we were on the balcony of a 15^th story apartment.

I wish I could explain better the certain intensity and focus I felt.

This all happened within a second.

I lashed out –discovering later knife wounds on my hands—and tried to wrestle the knife away. I have the clear advantage. I am twice his weight and a foot-and-a-half taller than he is. I know this might make me sound like a bully, but this is a part where Society is wrong. Yes, as will be mentioned very shortly, I kicked the shit out of a small man. Where I thumb my nose at Society is that he had a knife and his eyes displayed an intention that was not friendly.

I reacted.

Details are fuzzy, but I do remember grabbing his wrist with one hand and punching him with the other. It was a few days later that I discovered his injuries, while not life-threatening, sure seemed to hurt him a bunch. Visible damage has him constantly having to explain himself. I am sure he spins it well, with him as the victim. That’s fine. He pulled a knife and I beat him up. Despite his attempts to win the hearts and minds of our co-workers, he is not getting the sympathy that he very likely feels he deserves. People are rational. There is still a part of our society that respects freedom. People are now afraid to stick up for themselves due to their fear that they will suffer the repercussions.

I can at least say that I was attacked and I stood up for myself. Yes, the poor lil’ feller was on the wee side of the scale, but still, when flashing a knife, he was the most dangerous thing on the planet.

There are readers who are now horrified, and there are readers who shake their head at how tame the event actually was. Personal tragedy it most certainly was not, however, in terms of personal victories, I think it has earned a place on the shelf.

The Bridge Part Three

Jake was stunned to hear the voice clearly call out at him from the shadows, but rather than the fear he felt he was supposed to experience at times like these, a dark rage instead greeted him and filled his body. Rage at his roommates/land lords; rage at his friend who was not answering his lonely phone call; rage at his ex-girlfriend, and rage at the nameless voice crying out in the night.

“Who gives a fuck!” Jake screamed with cold anger at the place from where he had heard the voice originate, and kept his pace steady and on target towards The Bridge.  “That’s who.”

The movement in the shadows stopped, taken aback by both the presence and personality of another human being this far away from any real source of civilization.

Jake was not a small man, standing nearly two meters in height and over 100kg in weight, so when he decided to walk with determination, he did not care who was in his way.

Moving at a pace of objective, he passed by the patch of shadows from where the aggressive voice had called without pause, but kept senses he rarely used focussed on the spot. This was not the right place or the right time to be trusting.

 He had lived far too long in Edmonton not to suspect a negative, and from experience dangerous, situation.

The full spectrum of his senses was on high alert, with ancient instincts long suppressed now guiding his pace and path, the part of his brain that he used for interviews, conversations, and thoughts about the exploration of space, was not being allotted any power at all. At that exact moment, only The Bridge, the voice from the shadows, and various things that nature could provide a weapon were granted access to the room of higher thought.

He was nearing The Bridge, and he knew that he had at least two men following him, roughly 250 metres behind, not silent in their movement at all. Crossing the road, he walked until he took a step off the asphalt and onto the bank of the river. The road carried on to his direct right, where it started to divert to the right, away from the bank, before sharply returning towards the river, wherein fact it crossed it by using The Bridge.

Jake listened to the water trickle over rocks as the Class 1 rapids made their presence known, setting the soothing sounds as a permanent soundract that made this spot so very appealing.

The bridge itself started 10 metres from the bank of the river, making for an excellent shelter from the elements, but more importantly, a place to relax, throw rocks, and smoke cigarettes.

There was a nice setup underneath, where fires could be enjoyed, or just casual sitting, but it was a beautiful bridge, in a beautiful location in the middle of NE Alberta.

“Hey!” screamed the voice from earlier, “what are you doing in our house!?!”

The Bridge Part Two

The road was lifted up by a bit of a slope, but nothing third-gear-floored couldn’t handle, and with gaining speed, Jake quickly neared the top of the hill. At about 100 metres from the top, he took his foot off the gas, hit the clutch, then shifted into neutral, and coasted up the remainder of the hill.

This led to the perfect speed when he got to the top because there was a small little area on the right hand side of the road that for about 10 meters made an extra lane just when the hill started to drop in elevation as it headed down the other side, and the road resumed its tight squeeze at the shoulders.

Shifting into second, he let the gentle murmur of his transmission whine for a second or two, allowing his speed to drop further, before bringing her to first; neutral; break; stop; engine off; back into first; relax.

Taking out a cigarette from the centre console, he flipped it in his mouth, lit it, hit the button on his seatbelt, reached for his cell-phone, and dialed a number.

With full-bar service, the phone connected right away, and the hopeful buzz of a ringing phone greeted his ear.

One ring. Two ring. Three rings. Four.

Answering machine.

"We're sorry, but the mailbox belonging to..." the female generic telephone voice started to say as he clicked the end call button.

His friend was at home. He knew this. He knew he would be up too. Likely has something better to watch on TV.

'Fuck,' he thought, as he scrolled through his contact list.

There was no one on his list he wanted to talk to, but maybe....

Scrolling down to the name of an ex-girlfriend, he breathed out softly as he hit the call button.

The phone rang for not even a second before a sing-song voice answered with an exaggerated out-of-breath, "hello!?!"

  

"Jars!" he said with a happy and booming voice, "how the hell are you."

"I'm having sex," said the voice, deliberately sounding annoyed, "you know the thing you don't want to do with me anymore."

"Damn it Jars, I'm just lonely and wanted to talk, I don't give a fuck about your love-life."

There was a silence on the other end of the line, where seconds before heavy breathing dominated, now silence reigned supreme."

"Jake," the voice responded with a school-teacher lecturing tone, "you lost access to that part of me when you rejected me for that bullshit job of yours!"

"I was leaving for four months!" A mortified Jake replied. "You said you didn't want to wait. I broke up with you so you could have your freedom. Never mind, forget about it."

"Jake! I didn't mean tha..." the voice went silent as soon as he hit the end call button.

'Bitch,' he thought as he let his body fall backwards, slamming into his seat with a solid thump.

He was so bored, so lonely, and so far away from anyone and everything he cared about.

Grabbing the keys, he opened his door, stepped out, slammed the door and instinctively hit the the button on his key chain to set the alarm. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he started down the hill. 

The bridge was maybe half a click down the hill, and there were flowers in the area that smelled very sweet at night, so he decided to walk.

Tall trees lined the stretch of road to his right that seemed to pop higher as the hill dropped at a steeper and steeper angle.

There was a stretch of darkness hidden in the shadows that caught his eye as he walked down towards The Bridge.

A rustle could be heard, and a short time later, shapes could be made out moving in the panicked pattern of two bodies going from rest to a standing and then moving position.

"Who the hell is there!"A voice cried from the dark...


CJFR 14 Aug 12