Memory

I ran down the path and stopped under the bridge. After hopping down the slope, I emerged at the water. It was sunset in Bethlehem and the sun shown over the tops of the trees, the buildings, the river. There was some bustle of big noise in the distance, but it was overcome by the chattering of the bugs around me. I stood, my breath becoming more even, completely enveloped by the scene.

It was one of those rare moments when peace finds you. When you know things are going to be okay. When you're not afraid of the future or regretful of the past.

I knew things were going to be okay because that sunset showed me a thousands images at once.

The first time I kissed her. The picture of me sleeping on Dad's stomach. Me and my brother in Disney world with our Mickey and Donald hats. That night on the other side of the bridge. Dawn over the Rockies. The tunnel before Finals. The Pooh Bear that sat in my crib the day I got home from the hospital. The moon that one night. The French countryside from the top of the mountain. The city lights with Uncle Tim. The smell of my grandfather's trains in his basement. The clutter of my best friend's backseat. The onion haze of Uncle Didn's gravy. The quiet scratching of the stage curtain. The sound of six trombones on Here's That Rainy Day. Main Street as we turned the corner during the parade. Sunset over Amsterdam. The practice room at 6:30 AM with Mr. C. The scent of the breeze as we descended into the stadium. The brightness of her eyes. The hot pavement of the parking lot. The scent of Mom's wine.

The sound of Welcome Home.
The sound of I Love You.
The sound of Goodbye.

This river, this sun, this scene, right now.

I know everything's going to be okay because of all I have seen and heard and done in this life already. All at once, these things are unique to me and universal to everyone. Everyone has this collection of memories that makes them who they are. Because these memories are so unique and universal, I have to believe that people have felt all the same emotions that we have for thousands of years. Billions have lived and died with the same pictures we have, just with different faces and backgrounds.

Everything's going to be fine. Roll with life ... live it, learn from it, love it. Be with those whom you care about. Enjoy it all.

With one last fleeting look, I turned from the river and went back up the slope. When I reached the path again, I took off running.

That's all there is to it.

Nerd Out

1998 was a good year for Christmas in our house. A fateful meeting with a legend of the DOS universe that summer had aided in my rapid ascension from a strictly console gamer to one of the joint console/PC variety. While this arrangement only further aggravated my already significant childhood obesity problem, it also opened an entire world of possibility to my pudgy little mouse-clicking fingers.

The DOS legend that unveiled these new and beautiful horizons to me was none other than the original Warcraft: Orcs and Humans. Although now an ancient tome of a previous age, it is a tome revered and heralded by all who have ever heard the heartwarming whistle of Orcish spears graze the air. Its influence since 1994 is perhaps only eclipsed by the halcyon memories of we who battled for the green fields of Azeroth. Even today, there are few sights in gaming that I find more terrifying than that of a Daemon sporting the impenetrable hell that is Unholy Armor. "Surely, the catapults will kill him!"

Fool.

Anyway, thus enraptured, my natural descent into the Blizzard Universe was as predictable as it was unstoppable. Christmas that year welcomed not only Warcraft II: Tides of Darkness into our home, but also the sweet nectar of the holiest gods that is Starcraft. I am not exaggerating when I say I logged more hours on Brood War than perhaps 98% of the other games I've played, combined. Months-long completion quests involving 120 stars and 230 missiles paled in comparison to the sacrifices I laid at the feet of the Overmind. Online matches, solo missions, map editing ... so many hours and days and weeks did I practice hydra-spamming and muta-ling builds.

I am simultaneously overjoyed and immensely saddened by the delay of Starcraft II to 2009. On the one hand, I eagerly await the chance to put the Juggernaught (my new quad processor PC) into action, once more driving through the Koprulu sector with the Fury of the Swarm at my back. On the other hand ... if the game were to be released before next summer, I almost guarantee I would be unable to finish my M.S. degree on my current timeline. The choice between interstellar conquest and stoichiometric mass balances is no choice at all, and money has little value to those who would call themselves Cerebrate.

In the meantime, I shall bide my time. There is little to be done but work to complete this degree so that I might enjoy the luxury of SCII in peace when it finally does arrive. That, and work on brainstorming my SCII call sign for online play. I was thinking perhaps "panamajackjose." It should be fitting, since rumor has it that the new Twilight Archon will have a mana-based attack known only as "Jueves." The command will drive all units in a certain radius into a chaotic bloodlust, satiable only through the grim death of their enemy.

In 2009, I submit my soul to the Will of the Khala. For now, back to work.

Happy Monday.