Category Archives: Reasons for Things

Well thought-out posts and in-depth observations. Warning: may contain extensive abstract thought.

Safecracker

Safecracker draws people in on a primal level. A simple objective, mysterious board game, and of course the lure of shiny coins. Fundamentally, that little gold disc popping out of the machine is the closest most people can get to tangibly winning a pinball game. And then there’s the BOGO drink. In my experience, very little about getting that coin is directly related to being good at the game. Regardless, pretty much everyone smiles in delight when Candy shuts up and shows you the money.

Gold doubloons notwithstanding, I keep playing for a different reason. It’s deceptively simple, Safecracker teaches you to stop fearing drains the same way Fathom teaches you to embrace outlanes. Persistently firing balls no matter how many attempts are made, she rewards patience with time. From, there you have the freedom to try whatever you want until the clock runs out. A unique meditative opportunity amid glorified chaos, the single player experience is unparalled.

Needing laundry money and new to pinball, $2 for five games seemed like a solid investment. That’s how I chose Safecracker. I never anticipated how deep it would go. A recovering rage quitter from ages past, Safecracker taught me how to relax and have fun playing games again. I played that specific machine for nearly three months before branching out into pinball on the whole. When I did move on to Medieval Madness and Addams Family, my sense of control felt amplified. Safecracker’s compact playfield is more like a tricycle than training wheels. Getting on a big-boy machine after that is liberating and dangerous, comparatively.



BrolaB

A few small bitters in my tea but overall it’s a sweet brew. That’s all I can say about my time working on Capitol Hill. Continue reading BrolaB

It’s A Memphis Thang

“There are only about 1,000 people in the world and 200 of them live in Seattle,” an aspiring writer says, sitting with arms crossed quite proud of his clever theory. “Yaaas!” I blurt, lighting up with joy. “I call it that Memphis thing! Y’know, the biggest small town syndrome,” I squeak with excitement.

My ebullience catches him off guard, “No!” Spitting the word at me, all elation lost on him.  “I hate that place,” he growls petulantly. Continue reading It’s A Memphis Thang

Back to Basics

I have to change my habits if I plan to get any work done. Achieving what I came to do, I can reasonably support myself. Now the hard work begins. Getting here was fun and exciting and everything I did was brand fucking new. Now I’m working 7 days a week at two jobs and barely have time to see the few people that want to see me. Writing and yoga, my two real passions, fell by the wayside as my real-life stress increased. Cracks are forming at the seams between fantasy and reality and my need for balance is at critical levels. Continue reading Back to Basics

Who’s Polly?

Non-monogamy is a way of life for some people. I’m still feeling it out, skeptical at the very least. Continue reading Who’s Polly?

ROI

$260 in tips on $800 in sales.

It’s A Fact

No one actually likes me. I don’t say this to deprecate myself, it’s just fact. The very few friends I have don’t hear from me often, keeping them friends longer. There are times I’ll meet someone and feel a special connection. A spark of recognition in the vast darkness. Those people are cherished for as long as they’ll have me. Sometimes it’s just a day. Once, it was a decade. I savor the experience more now than I did, perhaps because I am spoiled with opportunity. I just know I can’t let my guard down because that’s when I get hurt. Continue reading It’s A Fact

Self Reconstruction

When bitten by the bug to clean things up I sometimes take it to the extreme. For example, last week I drop LSD and decide to clean up a pile of clutter in the corner of my front room. Pulling that thread leads to the demolition and subsequent reconstruction of an apartment I moved into 2 years ago.  When the dust settles four hours later, I’m naked and sweaty with dirt stuck to my slick skin like war paint. Everything’s different and all that’s left of the old arrangement is a small pile of detritus in the center of the room. I feel refreshed. Continue reading Self Reconstruction

Bandaids

They are here to break in Docs, what else do I have them for? A drawer full of things that I don’t need. Until I do. Forever saving for the chance that something considered waste will someday be gold. It seems to happen all the time. And then make another fortune making fun of it. And then use those fortunes to gain proprietary interest in one of the three major networks controlling how America thinks and make sure IT is the only thing anyone can ever talk about. That’s the dream, right? Continue reading Bandaids