When One Dice Tower Falls...
As the old saying goes: when they toss you out the door and onto the curb, your hat landing in a puddle, and the guy next to you stands up and says, “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Follow me.” You follow.
At least, that’s how my Grandpa told it.
Many thanks to everyone who reached out, reacted, responded, or retched a little at my last post. It honestly meant a lot (as does Plethora). Gaming has always been core to who I am: board games, tabletop RPGs, video games, all of it. Lately, it’s become more than a hobby, it’s been an outlet. A way to disconnect. A way to deepen friendships and build new ones. A creative space when work doesn’t always allow for that. A few hours to just exhale in a good way.
There are plenty of studies and TED Talks about the benefits of gaming. I’ve never needed validation for what I already knew: Games Good! No Games Bad! That’s part of why losing this groups hit as hard as it did.
Then last night, my DM (who also found himself out in the cold) texted me after a few days of radio silence. He’s got two others plus one of our friends committed to a new weekly long campaign. But he knows the prep burns him out. So he asked if I’d be willing to run something, anything, for three weeks every other month to give him time to recharge.
I said yes so fast I almost sprained my tongue.
So now April is WHPA. June is Shadowdark. August is Mothership. Then DCC holiday specials to close out the year. It’s mapped out. Everyone’s excited. And honestly, so am I.
In other news, one of the three who are continuing weekly without us called me over the weekend. We had a long talk about intentions, feelings, and all that s***. I told him I had no beef. I understood why they were making the choice they were. He still apologized for how it was handled (which was cool and on point of who he is) and admitted he hadn’t really put himself in everyone else’s shoes. I appreciated that. We talked for almost an hour. No hard feelings. No relationships to repair. I still love him like a brother. We’re going to GaryCon together and will keep doing things. When he asked if I’d still meet monthly to game, my answer was absolutely. You don’t spend ten years in a group and just walk away.
Was this the ending any of us pictured? Of course not. Change is inevitable, but how we deliver change matters just as much as how we handle it. In the end, I think this worked out. Everyone is trying something that fits what they want out of gaming, and we’re still friends who want to keep rolling dice together.
Not everything that comes out of a cocoon is a beautiful butterfly. Sometimes it’s a weird, half-lopsided insectoid with one wing, a crooked leg, and a bugged-out eye. But we still love it because that ugly sonovabitch is still ours. And that's just perfect in it's own way.