Behind the Garage

I grew up in a middle class neighborhood of single-family homes with detached garages. It was built as a development, but it didn't feel like one. While there are many homes in that town that are similar to the one I grew up in, it's a big town, the streets are mostly laid out in a grid, and it's got a town center. And while houses may have a similar layout, there's enough variation that you don't feel like you're walking through a development.

But everybody has the detached garage, and all the garages seemed to have the same bump-out. In the 1950's when cars got bigger, people had to extend their garages. I guess at that time everyone kept the car in the garage. By the 1970's and 80's, nobody kept a car in the garage. It was the custom in my neighborhood to park one car at the curb in front of your house, and the other at the end of the driveway. We had rather long driveways, so that left plenty of room for playing ball (or whatever) at the back of the driveway, near the garage. The garage was for storage, and where you hung your basketball hoop.

Because of those bump-outs, each garage had a short, roofed section sticking out the back. At some point, Brother figured out that they were easy to climb onto, and they became our hangouts. One was a secret clubhouse for spies. Another was where we hid our imaginary diaries at pretend camp. Two houses down, we had a big hole behind the garage where our action figures had mega-battles.

Behind our garage was an extra bonus. We had a grape vine. Nobody knew where it came from--probably somebody spit some seeds back there at some point in history. But every year we had grapes. They were purple on the outside, with a thick skin that was probably full of tannens or something. I don't know because we never ate the skins. Somebody decided that the skins were probably dirty, but the grapes would be okay to eat without washing if we didn't eat the peels. So we'd squeeze the thick skins until the sweet insides squirted into our mouths, seeds and all. For a while, I was convinced that a grape vine was going to grow in my stomach.

It seems like we rediscovered that vine every year. We'd be minding our own business, playing spies or camp or fish store, and we'd have to go behind the garage, and there they'd be, forgotten from last year. I can taste them even now, and I wonder if the kids living on my street today have discovered them yet. There was nothing better on a hot day than to discover a sweet snack that didn't require going back to the Land of Grownups.

Snow

When I was a kid we had a big storm that resulted in a foot or more of snow. My parents were shoveling our front walk and our driveway while my brother and I played in the snow. Mom and Dad had created two huge mounds of snow near the street, and Brother got the idea to tunnel through it to make a shelter we could crawl into. We built a fence in front of it too.

I was terrified to go inside the shelter--afraid that the whole mound of snow (which I remember as being taller than my dad) would collapse on me while I was inside. I can't remember whether I got up the courage to go inside or not.

The tunnel Brother dug was big enough for Dad to go inside--I remember him being in there.

I also stood on top of the mound. I remember the thrill of being up high and looking down at my parents while they worked at their shoveling.

You never forget your first

I feel like I should be writing about what it's like to be a Jew and a Humanist on Christmas--why do they get the lights, when ours is the Festival of Lights? Axial tilt is the reason for the season!--but I'm kind of stuck on this geek thing so that's what you're getting.

Today, at a Christmas party, we'll be giving Boo her first set of gaming dice. For my less geeky friends, those are the special dice one uses for playing D&D and other role playing games (RPGs.) For the random elements of the game, you need dice ranging from 4-sided (d4) to 20-sided (d20) and if you're gaming with friends, the dice tend to get mixed up, so it's helpful to have your own distinctive set so that you can sort them out again when the game is finished. Gamers get really attached to some of their dice. Hopper still has two of his original dice. They're worn down at the corners, but he proudly showed them to Boo the other day, because he's had them for 30 years. They're not in the bag with his favorite dice, but he's not going to throw them out, either.

But this moment won't be the same for Boo as it was for Hopper. Hopper discovered D&D on his own--he heard about it from friends, or saw the books somewhere, and decided to try it. He saved up his allowance to buy that first set of dice, because without them, he couldn't play. And he and his friends pored over the rule books--learning, discussing, debating--they figured out how to play together, because nobody they knew had done it before.

Boo rolled her first character using Hopper's dice. She'll be playing her first campaign with her parents, with her dad as the DM. She's a native.

I suppose there were native geeks when we were young--folks whose parents were so excited about a new Star Trek that they let their young children watch, or re-enactors who brought their sons to battles, or Creative Anachronists--but somehow this feels different.

......
I ran out of yesterday, so I'm finishing this on Christmas, just after watching Rise of the Guardians, which I thoroughly endorse and recommend.

We gave Boo the dice. She opened them, and said, "Dungeons and Dragons dice! Now I can roll them as much as I want and you won't yell at me!" "You're playing?" said my brother, "I might have a present for you..."

And the moment was gone...swept away in a blur of presents and children and Christmas.

But later on, in a moment of quiet, he appeared from upstairs, holding his first edition manuals and a couple of old modules. "You can borrow these for as long as you want," Brother said to Boo. "But when you're done with them, make sure you give them back to me, okay?"

"Do you understand," I asked, "You can keep them, but don't ever throw them out or give them away, okay? If you get tired of them, Uncle Brother wants them back."

Boo nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

I tried to engage Brother in a conversation about D&D then, but he couldn't do it. The details of the rules are blurry to him, for he has moved on from gaming.

Just make sure you don't throw away his manuals.