Ravings of a Textual Deviant

In which the TransAmerica Team at last moves on from Atlanta, and into less comfortable circumstances.

When last we left Our Heroes, they had entirely failed to reclaim their luggage, although a mysterious gentleman in the freight depot had told them to enquire after their bags after sunset at a disreputable dockside tavern, the Foaling Nag. Mr. Karl and Miss Kingston again availed themselves of disguises, while Mrs. Anderson looked for a convenient spot to cover her compatriots. (See “Quote of the Game,” below.) Fortunately, other than a few sailors propositioning Miss Kingston, there was no difficulty in recovering at least some of the luggage. Mr. Karl’s and Mrs. Atwood’s bags were nowhere to be found, unfortunately. (Mrs. Atwood lamented the loss of her best hat; the one with the stuffed dove on it.) The others recovered their belongings—or most of them. All of the cases had obviously been gone through. Both Mrs. Anderson and Miss Kingston discovered (much to their dismay) that their unmentionables had disappeared. Speculation as to their whereabouts led the gentlemen to beat a hasty retreat to hotel bar.

While the group was at dinner, they heard a commotion outside the hotel dining-room window. At the stroke of 9:00 PM, the magical barrier, which had surrounded Atlanta since the theft of General Lee’s sword, came down. There was an immediate rush to get out of town, and Our Heroes prudently decided to simply continue on their way aboard the Crimson Star. Mr. Laughton attempted to advise the team’s sponsor, Mr. Guggenheim, of their predicament, but a crush at the telegraph office prevented him. He prevailed upon his cousin, Philip, who resides in Atlanta, to send the telegraph for him, but alas, circumstances did not allow. (Mrs. Atwood had previously telegraphed Mr. Guggenheim with a request for additional funds, but the inquiry went unanswered as Mr. Laughton had neglected to advise the sponsor of the names of the other TransAmerica Team members.)

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Shortly after leaving the harbor, (Atlanta occupies the approximate position of Savannah in our universe) the Crimson Star encountered one of the two supernatural storms that circle the globe. These storms are, essentially, arcane hurricanes. In addition to the usual rain, wind, and storm waves, the storm featured green lightning, massive amounts of static electricity in the air, and raw magical power the likes of which few spellcasters can resist. The ladies again succumbed to mal de mer, and Dr. Hu had to sedate himself before he did something magical and regrettable. Mr. Laughton failed to show similar restraint, after the deck of cards with which he was playing solitaire began to arrange itself into divinatory patterns. He tried to “help it along,” and the cards acquired a powerful magical aura that gave him the equivalent of a nasty electrical shock. At the height of the storm, green sparks streaked through the air in mystical patterns; winds screamed like souls in purgatory; enormous, ominous, dark shapes appeared to surround the ship underwater. Mr. Karl noticed that the only person in the sitting room other than himself and Mr. Laughton a) had been drinking a shot every five minutes for the past three hours without emptying his bottle, and b) was transparent. Mr. Laughton recklessly acknowledged the incorporeal gentleman, who appeared to have glowing orange eyes. Before conversation could transpire, the ghostly figure disappeared in a blinding flash as the storm peaked. A green-blue glow appeared from over the horizon in the general direction of Atlanta.

The Crimson Star limped into the port of Miami two days late, but afloat. Our Heroes have disembarked and made travel arrangements for the next leg of the trip, which will take them to Panama City, the starting point of the Ellipse, by way of Havana and Colón. Trading comfort for speed, the TransAmerica Team exchanged prepaid tickets on the passenger ship that would take them around the eastern Caribbean for a direct ship to Havana, and bunks on a freighter from Havana to Colón. They also discovered that the crowd at the telegraph office in Atlanta had destroyed the equipment, and messages had to be sent by rail to other towns, thereby causing great delay and consternation. As we dropped the curtain, the weary travelers had just made arrangements for lodging at the Bay View House, in Miami.

Quote of the Game: (The Scene: Our Heroes are outside a run-down, seedy dockside tavern, and Mrs. Anderson is looking for a spot in which to conceal herself about the building.) “Does it have foundation plantings?”

My mother is a professional dancer, actress, and choreographer. When I was a kid, she worked for the local ballet company and also did a lot of community theater. I often got to go to work with mom, and I like to say that I grew up backstage. Before too long, going to work with mom turned into auditioning for the same shows. One of the shows I did was The Nutcracker; in fact, I was in the show three times before I was eleven. (Just as an aside, I highly recommend going to any local ballet company’s production of The Nutcracker; usually it’s the company’s major fundraiser. Support your local arts and artists!)

One of those years, I got to play a mouse. Part of the scene with the mice involves a Christmas tree that grows (stage magic!). I was inescapably reminded of the magical growing Christmas tree this morning as I went through the lobby of the building where I work. The lobby ceilings are over two stories high, and the Christmas tree in the lobby is proportional. There are ornaments on that tree that are over half my height.

Squeak!

November 16th: Last of the Halloween and Thanksgiving merchandise gone from grocery store; all seasonal merchandise is Christmas-related.

November 19th: Malls fully decked. Neighbors begin putting up Christmas decorations.

November 24th: Dad’s birthday.

November 25th: Thanksgiving. First snow of the year. Supermarket decorated for Christmas. Christmas trees spotted on top of large office buildings.

November 26th: Brother-in-law’s family puts up Christmas tree. First inflatable snowman sighting (Face down; so much for that guy-wire).

November 27th: Dad’s birthday observed.

I know I said I wasn’t going to plan anything, but at a certain point, one has to break down and make a few notes if anything’s going to get done. My parents are, unexepctedly, in town for Thanksgiving. As Ed and I already had plans, we’re having dinner with them today. Or more accurately, they are having dinner with us; as I explain it to my friends, my mother is a pretty good cook when she’s inclined—which is almost never, while my dad is an enthusiastic but occasionally disastrous cook. It’s safer for everyone if I do the cooking. Also, my dad’s birthday was the day before Thanksgiving, and we’re getting two celebrations for the cooking of one, so I can’t really complain.

I thought it was silly to make a turkey for only four people; I like it, but not enough to eat it until New Year’s. Instead, I got Cornish game hens, or as the supermarket checker called them, “mini-chickens.” Also on the menu:

It certainly looks like we’ll be eating leftovers ’til Doomsday…except for my clever plan. Normally, the American Ellipse is played on Thursday nights. As that’s not practical this week, we’ve rescheduled for Sunday afternoon. Here’s the clever plan part—before we play, we’re having a bring-your-leftovers potluck lunch, as most if not all of us cooked for family and friends this year. I hope that Alisa, Anne, Ben, Brian, Evan and Sean are hungry.

Update: Make that really hungry. I’ve got leftovers out the proverbial orifice of choice—everything except the hors d’oeuvres and game hens.

I had an amaretto sour for the first time yesterday, as concocted by my brother-in-law. If the engineering thing doesn’t work out, he’s got a great future as a bartender. He was kind enough to share the receipe, which I am pleased to present to the Drinking Public.

Mix it up, pour it over ice, and drop the cherry in. If you’re too lazy to deal with lemon juice and sugar syrup, you can use overpriced commercial sweet/sour mix.

One of the difficulties encountered by American historians is that George Washington left very few personal papers. This has probably contributed to the mythologizing of his life and accomplishments more than any other factor. Joseph Ellis’s most recent biography attemtps to compensate for the lack by placing Washington in context of the zeitgesit of his times and analyzing trends in behavior.

Ellis’s presentation of Washington is of a man who is first and foremost a pragmatist. More often than not, Ellis argues, Washington’s successes were a result of his ability to spot an opportunity and follow through on it. Examples include his marriage to Martha Custis and his insistence upon having the Continental Army innoculated against smallpox. Furthermore, Ellis concludes that conflict between Washington’s economic needs and his revolutionary ideals (as well as a legal complication) are what prevented him from freeing his slaves during his lifetime.

Washington’s Presidency is also examined in great detail; like many of his successors, Washington experienced difficulties during his second term, and was genuinely pleased to see it come to an end. The author makes a point of showing his audience that Washington’s most impressive revolutionary credential was his decision to step away from power—unlike Lenin, Mao, or near-contemporary Napoleon. Overall, it’s a reasonable and rational look at a subject who rarely gets such treatment.

I have to say that as much as I like Paul’s take on the JFK Assassination as game, I would probably go one step further. Instead of having the players make sure that history proceeds as we know it, I would probably have something really wacky happen, like Oswald getting hit by a bus on the way to the Book Repository, and make the players fill in as needed. This is why my players call me evil and devious. Among other things.

I’m posting this week’s poll a day early, as one or two of you may have extensive plans for Thursday.

What’s the strangest character you’ve ever played?

For me, the hands-down winner was the drug-addicted, intelligence-enhanced, megalomaniacal, practical-joking, bomb-finding dolphin who was “on loan” from the U. S. Navy. Curiously enough, the character wasn’t one I came up with on my own. It was pre-generated for a one-shot game that Doug ran. It was also the only character in that game that truly appealed to me. Normally, I’m against talking animals on the grounds that everyone wants to make them cutesy. Given that I was providing the voice, though, that did not happen. I set out to play the character with one of my favorite Douglas Adams quotes in mind—”Man [has] always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much-the wheel, New York, wars and so on-while all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man-for precisely the same reason.”

I woke up very upset with Ed, because in the dream I’d just had, he went out to buy circus equipment without bothering to put on pants. Fortunately for me, in the waking world, Ed tends to find that sort of thing entertaining. Of course, the fact that he’s got a psychology degree probably puts an entirely different spin on it. At least he isn’t a strict Freudian…

Sometimes I remember my dreams; sometimes not. I really wish I could remember the one that prompted me to grab Ed and shake him awake while telling him “Don’t make the pancakes!”