Time for some more geek pastimes. When I say board games, I’m not talking about Scrabble or Monopoly, although those can be fun at times. When I play a board game, I like (surprise surprise) complex strategy and innovative gameplay. Lately I have a soft spot for European-style Economic strategy games, like the ones in the gallery below. These types of games require you to plan, be either directly or passively affected by opponent choices, and to change strategy; the good games offer multiple paths to victory so that you can change strategy. I really don’t mind long game sessions lasting hours, as long what’s happening isn’t mundane (this is where Monopoly fails: round and round and round until you’re bankrupt? No thank you).

Agricola

Axis and Allies

Carcassonne

The Settlers of Catan

Forbidden Island

Puerto Rico

There are two problems with my board game choices: First, they tend to be expensive; thus I have to know they are really good before I plunk down the money for them, and that limits me. Second (and most important), it’s hard to find other players to play with. Because of the complexity of the games, most of my family members are not interested. (“Games are supposed to be fun, Rob, not work.”) To me, this kind of work is fun, so this just means I haven’t found enough people like me to play regularly. (I say regularly, because there are a number of people I know who will play with me, but if we manage a game twice a year, we’re lucky.)

My lovely wife will play almost any game with me and enjoy it, but we both agree it’s much more fun to play with multiple people. I’ve got half a dozen games in my collection, and I’ve discovered that there is a “complexity continuum” that I use to help decide what we should play whenever new people come over. From easiest (and usually most fun for all) to hardest (only fun for me), they are:

1. Forbidden Island
2. Carcassonne
3. Settlers of Catan
4. Puerto Rico
5. Agricola
6. Axis & Allies

For the record, I haven’t played Axis & Allies in over a decade.

There are a lot of games out there that I would like to play, but I’m smart enough to realize I shouldn’t buy a game that will never get played. I’m thinking my best bet is to create new players: my kids. That’s not the only reason I had them, just one of many. 🙂

So that’s another thing I’d rather be doing now, playing board games.

Along the same lines as yesterday’s Bonsai post, here’s another brief hobby I tried that involved making big things little, and that take a lot of time to get a final result: model shipbuilding. Maybe it was all those years of playing with legos, but for some reason I really like to admire miniaturized things, whether they be models of houses, trains, armies, landscapes, whatever. Maybe it makes me think I’m a big powerful giant or something, I don’t really know. But I consider it art on some level.

With model ships, there’s a unique quality that is different from other miniaturization projects. It’s not just getting the outside to look right, it’s all the parts on through to the inside, too. I tried plastic model cars as a kid, and although I learned a little bit of cars’ components, the ones I attempted were not that educational. The pieces went together so that when you lifted the hood or opened the doors, they looked like a car inside, but you didn’t learn how an engine was built. This isn’t the same with model ships. It seems that a good model ship is designed to be a such a replica of the original that by the end you will know all about every single part of ship. A lot of times you even cover up very detailed things that you’ll probably never see again – but you know it’s there. That’s fascinating to me. Theoretically, I could build a real boat someday just by working on one of these kits.

Ok, that’s probably stretching things a bit. And as someone who’s barely been on a boat, it’s surprising that I even enjoy this. It’s probably the complicated nature of the endeavor, along with the creative aspect, along with the solitary aspect. Once again, I like the idea of it, but the reality of it is beyond my reach right now. Mainly, it’s cost; a good kit starts at $150 minimum. Time is not on my side either because I have other things in my life more important to me, like my family and my writing. Finally, I don’t really have a good work area to keep the work in progress protected in between sessions. But, as I’ve said before and will say again, I hope to someday give this a try again.

The dream ship

So that’s another thing I’d rather be doing now, building model ships.

I can’t remember exactly why I started researching bonsai, but it was probably 7 or 8 years ago when I bought a couple of books, did my homework, got a couple of plants, and gave it a try. The hobby didn’t last long, maybe a year or two.

I think the first time I saw and heard of bonsai was in the move The Karate Kid. Mr. Miyagi was tending bonsai trees when he and Daniel first met. It seemed beautiful, but strange at the same time. Why was it in that shape? How were the leaves so small? It didn’t look like a real tree I had ever seen. Those scissors looked strange too.

It was decades later that I learned that bonsai was not a kind of tree, but the art of making a tree very small. That is fascinating to me, because it means you can “bonsai anything.” Take a maple tree, and make it into a bonsai: it will lose its leaves in the fall, be leafless in the winter, and bud in the spring. You can take a crab apple tree and make it into a bonsai and it will grow tiny little crab apples. How amazing is that?

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But the hard part is the waiting. They take years to grow into a shape. They take even more years to prune, prune and prune some more, before the leaves start coming in smaller and smaller and start looking proportionally correct, like little trees. And all you can do in between is water them (not too little, not too much), and take good care of their delicateness. They are beautiful to look at, but they don’t do much else.

I think it comes down to the fact that I like the idea of bonsai, but the reality is somewhat boring and not very forgiving. That makes me sad, because it’s a part of myself I don’t like: wanting things now instead of waiting. (This is a trend in why my hobbies stop that we’ll see in the coming days. I don’t really know what to do about it, but there it is.)

Someday I’m sure I’ll do it again, probably with my kids. They’re too small now to appreciate it, and they have me running around so much I have a hard time remembering to shower, let alone water a plant. But I think it will be good to instill in them an appreciation for real live beauty.

So that’s another thing I’d rather be doing now, tending bonsai.

First of all, I realize “Watch TV” comes across as sounding lazy, typical American, whatever. And I know it appears as quite a departure from my Day 1 and Day 2 artistic endeavors.  But I assure you it’s not what you think I mean.

I don’t have a cable subscription, and I live in the Lehigh Valley where cable TV was invented; air channels are nearly impossible to receive here. Thus, I don’t really watch a lot of TV unless it’s via DVDs or internet streaming. But when I do, I have very specific things I want to watch, and it’s not mindless stuff. I like my TV viewing (whether actual Television programs or movies) to do one of two things, preferably both: stretch my mind, and stretch my imagination.

The TV shows I watch are lots of Sci Fi and Fantasy programs, like Star Trek, Stargate, Lost, shows that take me to new realms. The movies are usually of the same genre, but I also especially love what I’ll call “artsy” movies that really make you think and reflect upon, like The Fountain, The Tree of Life, or The Thin Red Line. Don’t get me wrong, I like to laugh too, especially “high-brow” comedy like Frasier, or Big Bang Theory. I even watch a “reality” show (via the internet), though not your typical one: Face Off; again, because it stretches my mind and imagination. And let’s not forget documentaries; I really enjoy those too, if they’re done well; I learned more about US history from the History channel’s The Presidents than I did in a whole year of high school social studies.

Having said all that, what really prompted this post is that tonight is family movie night, something we just started, and on the screen tonight is Despicable Me 2. I know the kids don’t get Steve Carell like I do, but I love when they laugh at those minions and times I wouldn’t expect. It shows me their little minds are working and that gives me hope that they see the world like I do, a place of “What if?” TV and cinema – in moderation – is a wonderful art form. What I’m most looking forward to about TV is introducing my children to my favorite films. I have to wait quite a while, because they’re under five, but it will be really interesting to me to see if they have the same kind of wonder that I have when I watch Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, The Dark Crystal, and The NeverEnding Story. They’re too little and could be terrified by these things now, but I’m hoping they’ll love them as much as I do.  Someday they’ll be swinging around lightsabers and pretending to ride the luck dragon Falcor through the city. Looking forward to that day.

So that’s another thing I’d rather be doing now, watching TV.

The summer before grade 11 (20 years ago), I got a letter from my high school saying that they would be putting on a play in February, and tryouts would be held the first week of school in September. If anyone was interested, they should swing by the school during the summer to pick up a script. I did pick one up, and a month later I had the lead role.

I’m still not entirely sure what made me even consider trying out for a play. I can still remember being forced to be in a chorus on stage in the 3rd grade, and I was terrified, and vowed never to do that again.

Many people who know me now, but didn’t know me in my high school days, may be surprised to read this post, because I often say this phrase: I really really don’t like to be “in the spotlight.”

Except, that is, when I’m in a real spotlight.

Huh? How is that different? I think what it comes down to is, although I’m quiet, soft-spoken, and rarely like to draw attention to myself, there is something very fun about pretending to be someone else. And in those cases, it’s not me in the spotlight, it’s the character I’m playing. To put it another way, I would be more comfortable playing the scripted role of a preacher in a skit than actually preaching to a congregation. If that makes any sense.

Photo Credit: ACT Photos via Compfight cc

But like painting, I haven’t done the acting thing in a long time. Three plays in high school, two lead roles, was the height of my “career,” if we could even call it that. I was Newt in Welcome to the Monkey House, I was Antipholus of Syracuse in the Comedy of Errors, and I was the White Knight in Alice in Wonderland. I’ve been in some skits for church here and there, but nothing production-worthy like those high school plays.

14 years ago I watched a good friend of mine play Puck in a Midsummer Night’s Dream in a community theater near his home. I was kind of jealous, and realized I wanted to do it again. When I got back home, I periodically looked through the newspaper ads for auditions for my own local community theater. Soon I found they were holding auditions for Tennessee William’s The Glass Menagerie. I’d never read it before, so I borrowed it from the library. It was interesting, especially Tom Wingfield. I almost went to try out.

Almost. I chickened out, and never went.

A month later I saw a film version of the play staring John Malkovich as Tom. It was brilliant. He played the part in such subtle ways I never caught from reading alone. I wish I had seen the film right after I read the play. I would have certainly tried out then. And I would have gotten that part. And I would have knocked it out of the park.

Oh well.

I still look at the audition calls every now and then. Haven’t found anything I’d try yet. But someday.

So that’s another thing I’d rather be doing now, acting on the stage.