David's Boring Blog

 

I think it is time to admit to myself that I have been in a depression for a while now. I am going to put an interesting label on my depression and call it functional depression. That is to say I am going to work. I am keeping house. I am parenting. I am functional. I have even been analyzing myself and claiming that I am not and have not been depressed.  The thing is I have been stuck in a rut. Myself care has been a little lax. I am not keep shaved. I am not dressing as nice as I should for work. I haven't been getting my hair cut. Those things aren't big red flags. I mean I am still bathing and keeping up the general hygiene. I am pretty shaggy at the best of times so externally people cannot look at me and know I am depressed.  The biggest red flag that I have been noticing is having a hard time getting myself motivated to go do things. I have friends who are going through major losses and here I am struggling to get up and get myself into gear. When I started beating mysel

 I have had a lifelong love affair with video games. It started with video arcades. On second thought, that isn't really where I played my first coin operated games. It started with arcade cabinets in places like Pizza Hut, the Bowling Alley, and even in a few diners.  I remember clearly the day my little brain put together the concept that I needed money to actually play. I was standing on a stool moving the joystick and smashing buttons on a Galaga  cabinet. During my stunning performance the leader board suddenly flashed across the screen. I let go of the controls. When "play" resumed (also known as the game's demo screens) my ship went back to deftly firing without me pushing a single button.  I had been duped. In the inquisition that followed my Mom and Dad were amused at my discomfiture. Dad patiently explained how quarters operated the machine. He good naturedly let me have a real play and I will never forget him saying something along the lines of," I was

 I suspect I need to write another emotional post because I am not processing fully. Realizing that, I got myself up early this morning. I spent some time of self care. Then I made myself a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs with a few slices of Spam. I shaved. I realized I need a haircut, but that will be waiting for a while. I cleaned up my office a bit. Then I sat down and had a long debate with myself on if I should write this post, toy with my Steam Deck, or play some Diablo 4.  Diablo 4 won out. It often does. I played for a bit and then got to work on some of the real world stuff that needs my attention. I did a little eBay work. I cleaned and organized the house a bit. I conceptualized a really neat idea to change up my bedroom. Then I got my Steam Deck out for a bit of an update.  I enjoy my Playstation 5 although I am not the primary user. Ashley plays some games on it. Teagan has put hours into Astro's Playroom and a bit of Hogwart's Legacy. I enjoy that she is enthusi

 My writer's block solution for having started this post three times was to walk outside with my sub compact 9mm and to empty two magazines on to my 3/8" steel target. I don't know understand or know if there is actual neuroscience to back up how this works, but something about drawing my weapon, getting on target, and squeezing off the shots in a steady rhythm focuses me completely.  My heart rate, which I checked on my watch, speeds up a bit. I suppose it could just be getting my blood pumping.  You might be asking yourself at this point what has me struggling to write. If not, let me say that I am struggling with it for the first time in quite a long time. My blog is often an exercise is what I am carefully avoiding saying. Repression is bad for the soul. Still, I don't write here to unburden my soul. It is public and I know it (clap my hands.)  I think tonight I am just going to try a little vulnerability. Yep. I am going to spill the tea just a little bit. That is

 I set myself a goal of getting all of the 1980s movies that had some relevance to me by the end of the week. I finished it early Sunday morning in those thin hours when I should have been sleeping. The interesting part of this exercise was two fold. First, I didn't watch most of these movies in the 1980s unless I stumbled across parts of them in scrolling through cable channels as a kid. There are exceptions. I haven't watched Flash Gordon as an adult in spite of Ted  reminding me that I likely should.  Secondly, I started in 1980. I very quickly found myself working through the years backward all the way to 1937. Disney animated films have a long history and I am a fan. I didn't add that whole list here because while I did see lots of those movies in the 80s I cannot say they are my favorite films. I don't mind watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs by any means. Is it part of the quintessential David film experience that I would recommend? Meh.  1968 Night of the L

I have been getting my nostalgia very organized. When we went camping last I took my iPad and played several episodes of Captain N the Gamemaster for Teagan. I have always enjoyed sharing little gems from my past with the people I love.  As I have been focusing less on collecting physical things like comic books which have a weird association with value I have noticed that my digital collections have been growing. I am reading less comics and quite a few more books. Currently I am reading through the work of Rick Riordan which I far prefer to Harry Potter. That isn't to say that I don't enjoy Harry Potter. I just have always had a huge love for mythology. I also shared both of those series with Taila as she was growing up.  I have a minor regret that I didn't keep up with the kids books that I loved. Now, I don't mean Dr. Seuss and Where the Wild Things Are.  Those are obvious and will never leave my memory. I devoured lots of fiction and fantasy between starting schoo

 I was sharing an epiphany I had many years ago with someone while trying to help them cope with the ennui and tedium of the daily grind. That conversation put me back in the mindset of a twenty something version of myself. I recalled being the angry, maladjusted person I was then with an almost wistful longing. What happened to that guy? When did I "drink the Kool-aid" and settle into a life more ordinary? Before we get into that let me point out that I was never that much of a rebel outwardly. That is to say that my conformity pretty well limits itself to preferring shorts and t-shirts to collared shirts and slacks. Honestly, that is probably more about being uncomfortable than any desire to be different. I didn't even get the courage to grow my hair out until I was on another continent far from the judging eyes of the people who know me. When I moved home the ponytail lasted about a year.  Inside I have always thought of myself as weird and different. That probably was

 Perhaps ironically I am writing this post using my Steam Deck as I attempt yet another experiment in computer gaming. I am waiting on a large file to download to the Deck. That is reason enough to be pecking this out on a travel sized keyboard and the actual screen of the Deck rather than use my laptop which is right here on the same desktop and attached to two large displays. I enjoy the novelty of the set up as I do this to kill time as the download builds. Don't get me wrong. Any idiot with internet access can piece together any of my little projects with very little effort. This just isn't the most simple thing that I am pulling off as I write about the benefits of reminding yourself that it is best to behave as if you know almost nothing. I enjoy things even in the general vicinity of irony.  This realization came to me on a journey to an Autozone. Confession time. I have grown up in the shadow of great mechanics. My grandfather was a professional mechanic on my Mom's