Third person Thursday: The Telltale Brick

“Can we build it now?”

“We don’t have time right now, Lucas,” he explained to the puppy-eyed eight-year-old across the table, “you have to get to school.”

“Awww.”

“I’ll tell you what though,” he said and popped open one end of the rectangular cardboard box, “we can sort the pieces right now over breakfast and when you get home from school, we’ll build it together then, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy replied and bounced excitedly in his seat.  His father dumped the contents of the Lego set box onto the breakfast table and they alternated between sliding pieces into color-coordinated piles and scooping spoonfuls of Cookie Crisp into their mouths for the next twenty minutes.

Soon it was time to leave.  Lucas’ father had the day off work and after he dropped Lucas off at school he returned home and headed to the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee and contemplate how to best use his free day.

He passed by the table and admired the Lego bricks lying in wait in their neat little piles.  He looked forward to transforming those piles into a Lego Star Wars Y-Wing with his son later.

He poured his coffee and added cream and sugar.  He was staring out the window at the lawn, considering using the morning to mow it and just taking his first, loud sip when he heard it.

Pew-pew-pew!

He cut his sip short and waited to hear the curious sound again.  Nothing came.  He shrugged and took another sip, which he nearly choked on, when the sound came again.

Pew! Pew-pew!  Pew-pew!

Anyone Who Enjoys Lego or Marble Runs Should Take a Look at This. In Other Words, Everyone Pay Attention!

While taking a look at The Brothers Brick blog, I stumbled upon this absolutely amazing, spectacular, mind-blowing...you know what, I'm going to run out of adjectives and adverbs before I can do it justice, so just go ahead and watch the video.  You're going to want to watch the full seven minutes, trust me.  It keeps getting better.



Shhhh, no words.  Let's just enjoy the fact that our worlds are now a little brighter.

TGD Review: PvZ Pinball

My sons and I are nuts about Plants vs. Zombies as I'm pretty sure 90% of the gaming population is.  So when I heard that there was going to be a Plants vs. Zombies table on Zen Pinball 2 (or FX Pinball 2 on the Xbox) I knew I would be downloading it on the first day it was made available on Xbox Live.

I stayed true to my word and last Wednesday, disappointingly one day after it was released on the Play Station Network, I spent 240 Xbox points and made it my own.  Nearly a week after playing it daily, I review it here for you.

TGD is Now Accepting Donations

With my Retro-Gaming Museum now fully functional (and fully awesome!), we here at Transformer Generation Dad just cannot get enough of the old school majesty that was.  My sons have held still to date for several history lessons and have even come to accept the realization that learning their times table via the Atari 2600 is a better option than flashcards.

Now I turn to my loyal readers for help.

Sure, I have collected a good number of classic video games, spanning five different consoles (Atari 2600, NES, SNES, N64 & Gamecube), but for history's sake I am constantly looking to amass even more titles.  I may even be willing to gather some other as yet unrepresented consoles.

Do you have any games you are looking to get rid of?  Would it pain you to think they may end up in a landfill?  How environmentally responsible of you.  Are you hoping to send them to a good home where they can be repurposed for the education of our youth, that they might learn to appreciate the games you used to play as a child?  Are you eager for your old game cartridges to be fired up again for the sake of enlightening future generations of their gaming roots?

The Transformer Generation Dad Retro-Gaming Museum (TGDRGM...yes, that is the official name henceforward) would be happy to accept your donation.  Let us dust off those cartridges, blow gently across their contact surfaces and install them in their rightful place: the reception port of their intended functioning consoles and the halls of gaming history.

Your donation would be greatly appreciated.  While the TGDRGM is not considered a charitable institution (yet), you will receive for your donation our undying gratitude and the promise that, if you are ever in our neck of the woods you might have the honor of watching your cartridge live the remainder of its golden years in a happy home and even partake of a few beers from the nearby fridge.  Who knows, if you donate a significant number of cartridges, perhaps a TGD t-shirt might be in order.  If you are interested, feel free to email me at madcap1417@gmail.com and I would be happy to discuss the details regarding how to donate your piece of gaming history with you.

Here's to we gaming geeks working together to keep our history intact.  Do it for the children...in all of us...but especially in me.

Two Great Things That Go Great Together

It doesn't happen very often, but every now and then, Lego makes a product I'm not entirely excited about.

Take, for instance, the whole line of Ninjago sets.  I readily accept that they are popular.  They continue producing sets, adding new ninjas (or the same ninjas in new outfits) and have a successful cartoon based upon them currently on television.  When the minifigures were first released and it looked to be more of a card/role-playing game where you could construct your own ninja weaponry, I thought it had potential.  Fast forward several months to ninja jets, tanks and motorcycles and you've lost me.

Occasional flops aside, Lego does a pretty stellar job of choosing wisely which products make it to the toy store shelves.  Today, while checking out the Lego CUUSOO site for the first time in a while, I was reminded of just how savvy the world's greatest toy company is at selecting other franchises with which to affiliate itself.

Lego Star Wars might very well be the greatest sequence of three words every uttered.  The sets are phenomenal with all the overwhelming down-to-the-last-detail of the original Star Wars toys from the seventies and eighties (remember thinking "Was that character even in the movie?" when you saw the blister pack with the action figure on the rack and always finding out that, yes, he was in the movie?).  The video games have been some of the best produced I have ever seen, not to mention the closest things you can get to actually playing through the two trilogies.  They even make Episodes I-III relevant.

The Lego superhero lines have also been a success.  The DC versions are heavy on Batman, but I'm not complaining (stick with the date that brought you to the dance, I say).  The Marvel sets have some of the best minifigures in recent memory.  I'm waiting for the Lego Avengers video game to be developed.

Lego Lord of the Rings sets have already hit the stores and each trip I make to Target allows me to claim I'm letting my sons take a stroll through the toy aisle when really I just want another opportunity to linger in front of the Battle of Helm's Deep (#9474) set for a few moments and drool.  I secretly wonder if there is a handle on the Gimli minifig so that minifig Aragorn can throw him at the Uruk-hai.  Speaking of waiting for a video game, I've heard rumor this one is already in the works (fingers crossed).

And today I realized that the long awaited Lego Minecraft Micro-world set has already been released.  When I first heard about this, I thought it was a great idea, but my sons and I had not had the luxury of becoming completely and hopelessly addicted to Minecraft yet.  Now that we have traveled down that very shaft in what has resulted in a much more indoor summer than I originally planned, we are all just waiting for the set to become available again.  Wouldn't you know, it's sold out.

Overall, Lego has their stuff together when it comes to choosing their relationships.  They pick winners to collaborate with.  In fact I believe that Lego's official press release regarding such projects reads something like, "We are awesome and we know it.  Still we recognize that there are other awesome things out there and if you want to make sweet corporate love with us and see what our offspring look like, give us a call."

Of course, I'm sure that while every company with any kind of toy product out there is salivating over the chance to get in Lego's corporate pants (I know the anology is getting a little racy, but stay with me, I'm almost done), it must be pretty intimidating to think you might have a shot with the brick giant.  Which is why the rest of the statement reads, "But, again, we know just how awesome we are, so if you think you can hang, hot shot, you had better be sure that you are awesome.  And we don't just mean awesome, we mean really f***ing awesome."

Of course, I'm paraphrasing, but you get the picture.

Wordless Wednesday: Lego Christian Bale Becomes Lego Adam West Right Before Your Eyes

Wordless Wednesday: Ice Cream PSA

I apologize for breaking the rules of Wordless Wednesday, in fact another post with two pictures and no words (I promise) will be posted a little later, but this is a serious matter.  In fact this is pratically a public service announcement.

Observe if you will the above photograph.  You may recognize that this is a Dairy Queen soft serve ice cream cone.  What you may not recognize, unfortunately, is the topping on this particular cone.  If you have the extreme displeasure of being located near a Dairy Queen that does not carry "Crunch Coat" this is what you are missing.


Alas, for years many people near the offending Dairy Queen locations have not known what I was talking about when I requested my cone be rolled in Crunch Coat on several occasions.  This is a tragedy and I seek that all Dairy Queen patrons be treated equally and have accessibility to this amazing taste sensation.  Alert the manager at your Dairy Queen immediately and demand that they make this crunchy, peanut-ty option available to you without delay.


The more you know...

How Sweet It Is

It has been a long baseball season.  Practices and games galore have left little free time for my usual pastimes of writing blog posts, drinking beer and playing video games.  To add to the frustration of the commitment I made at the beginning of the season to coach my sons’ team, the time and effort put in has not always yielded results.  During sixteen games this season, we won only two.

As a pee-wee coach, my responsibility has been to place the progression of my young players above all else, including winning.  I explained this to all of my players early on and have repeated it over and over.  While they watched as their peers on other teams celebrated wins, my players consoled themselves with the reassurance that they were learning.  While kids said openly, “You guys stink, we creamed you last time,” my players muttered to themselves, “These games don’t count.”  While one team pitched the same three kids all season long, every kid on our team who wanted to pitch got an opportunity.  While that same team held their kids at static positions, our players were rotating in and out of the infield and getting valuable experience, even at the risk of their own personal safety and the potential of taking a line drive to the noggin while they scribbled their own name into the infield dirt.

Action Figures, Assemble!

Back before The Avengers were in the coolest movie since Star Wars, yours truly already had an obsession with them.  That obsession manifested itself as I began collecting memorabilia whenever I could sneak some in the house.


I was subscribing to the comic books, slowly "accidentally" breaking the stylish glassware from our cabinets and replacing them with Marvel character tumblers and buying action figures here and there under the guise that they were for my sons.  Needless to say, I was prepared to have my sons supplied with plenty of Avengers swag before any of their friends realized how awesome it was.


But the prize items in my collection stayed on the shelf in my office, out of their reach.  The flagship of my Avengers love, although un-boxed (because I can't help myself) remained in mint condition where my sons knew they dare not reach lest they invoke my wrath.  Thanks to eBay and a few closing toy store who knew not what they had in stock, I have managed to collect the four major characters from the film in 12-inch legendary action figure form over the years and I reveal them to you now, posed in my best attempt to recreate the movie poster:

Yes, I know.  Drink it in and be not jealous, true believers.  Assembling such a mighty group was no simple task.


Even more difficult has been keeping it from the hands of my sons and I have finally broken down and allowed them to play with them in an effort to cultivate their love of all things Marvel.  But the rules have allowed no friends to touch them and no smashing them against anything.  Also, they are to wipe them down with a damp cloth and mild soap after each session.


Most importantly, I always get dibs on Captain America.

Proper Attire

My tickets have been purchased for the Thursday night midnight premier of The Avengers.  Gift certificates for popcorn and pretzel bites have been procured.  I have the extra wide mouth Gatorade bottle prepared to avoid bathroom breaks.


Now, only one question remains.  I will not be attending in costume, but which t-shirt shall I wear?  Captain America?  Thor?  A mash-up shirt?


So hard to chose.  I am open to suggestions.

Third Person Thursday: The Most Popular Kid at School

“That shirt is so awesome.”

“Thanks, Billy,” he responded, looking down to admire it on his own torso.  “It’s one of my favorite t-shirts.  Probably in my top three, definitely in my top five.”

“I like how Thor is holding the hammer,” Billy elaborated, mimicking it with his hand held aloft over his own head.

“Yeah, he looks pretty cool, right?”

“He’s, like one of the strongest super heroes,” Billy informed him.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but Hulk is even stronger.  He’s like the strongest one there is.”

“Are you gonna see the Avengers when it comes out?”

“Totally.”

“Did you see the commercials?” asked Billy, excitedly.

“I’m wearing a Thor t-shirt but I haven’t seen the commercials for the Avengers?  C’mon, Billy.”

“Wanna know what my favorite part is?” Billy asked then continued without waiting for an answer.  “It’s when the Hulk jumps and hits the building and then he’s like, WHAM!” Billy swung his fist through the air.  “Then he’s all like, WHAM!”  He swung his fist back the other way.

“Oh yeah, and he’s all, FOOSH, and smashes that bad guy against the building?  That’s so awesome.  And did you see the part where that giant thing is chasing Iron Man and he’s all like, ‘I’m bringing the party to you,’ and they look up and they’re all like, ‘Whoa,’ ‘cause that huge machine thing is like right behind him and chasing him past the building?”

“Yeah,” Billy shouted, “and it hits the side of the building all like, WHOOOOSH, SMASH!  I love that part!”

“Billy!"  The call came from across the parking lot.  Billy turned to see his mother waving to him.  “It’s time to go!”

“Go ahead, Billy, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” said Billy and turned to run.  “Nice talking to you Mr. Benedict,” he called over his shoulder and ran to meet his mother.

“Dad,” said the small voice next to Mr. Benedict.  “What was Billy talking to you about?”

“Hi Colin,” Mr. Benedict said and tousled his son’s hair.  “He likes daddy’s t-shirt.”

They began their walk to the car.

“Can Billy come over and play later today?” asked Colin.

“Of course,” said Mr. Benedict.  “He seems like a nice kid.”

Kids These Days

When I pick up my sons from school, I often find myself overwhelmed by the swarming crowds of children pouring from the institution like locusts descending upon a field of grain.  Walking along the sidewalk, I feel as if we have become engulfed in a river of adolescent fervor and I fear being swept away by the current of preteen hormone fueled mass.  At that point, I grip my sons’ hands tightly for dear life, which probably makes them uncomfortable because they are at the cusp of the age when such things will begin to embarrass them, especially while surrounded by an ocean of their friends.

But this is a natural reaction to crowds for me.  I avoid them whenever possible, but there’s only so much you can do when your seven and nine year olds need a ride home, so I tolerate it the best I can.

Over several years, I find that the aspect of this afterschool madness which has come to bother me the most is not the crowd itself.  I am somewhat capable of staying in touch with my own childhood (maybe you’ve noticed) and can understand the excitement of being released from your day long holding cell while surrounded by a like-minded mob.  What grates on me is the complete disregard of any grown-ups in the crowd.

I have watched kids shove one another with adults in the midst of the crowd.  Sometimes the shoving victim runs into one of the parents, including me.  Kids will spit, swear and fight all without the slightest concern that a nearby adult will grab them by the ear and shout, “Knock it off!”

Perhaps this is an indication that I am getting older.  This may be a back-in-my-day moment, but I don’t think it is.  More likely, I feel it is disgust at the sloppiness of the current generation’s misbehavior.

They're Heeee-ere

OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG, O...M...G!!!!!


(deep breath)


(exhale)


Ahem...what I meant to say was that today is a day to celebrate.  Today, the Marvel Super Heroes Lego sets have become available.  As I write this, the main page for the sets still reads "Coming Soon," but I assure you that at the Lego Shop page, they are listed as available.


The thing that caught me off guard was that I was expecting sets tied into next month's Avengers film.  I had already seen the minifigure versions of Thor, Cap, Iron Man, Hulk, etc.  What I did not expect was an X-Men set that included minifigure versions of Wolverine, Deadpool and Magneto.  Cool!


Now if you'll excuse me, research needs to be done here in the Transformer Generation Dad household.  If I am to properly manipulate my sons into using their Easter money to purchase a few of these sets, I need to maximize the minifigures that will be acquired.

Hungry for Entertainment?

The Hunger Games is out in theaters today and there is a great deal of chatter about it to say the least.  Fans of the books have been excited for weeks, counting down the days to its release.  Hollywood insiders are speculating this series will be far more popular than the Twilight movies and possibly on par with the Harry Potter films (go ahead and note my juxtaposition of the terms "movie" and "film" in that last sentence because it was intentional).


The Hunger Games books have action, suspense, drama, humor, violence and romance.  This is one of the reasons why they appeal to youth and adults.  What's not to like?


But this has also led to a number of people suggesting that the trend of adults fawning over young adult fiction indicates we, as a society, are becoming dumber.  What's next, wonders this critic, a dramatic film trilogy based on the Hardy Boys?  Perhaps adults will start buying chunky board books with soft, touchable bunny tails on the pages that they can stroke between their thumb and forefinger.  Maybe the next big movie-based-on-a-book that adults will be anticipating will be James Cameron's big budget production of The Velveteen Rabbit (spoiler alert: I hear the stuffed rabbit makes the kid really regret tossing him aside).

What a Waste?

Time gets away from people.


You talk too long to an old friend on the phone.  You get caught up reading an extra chapter or eight of the book you're really into.  You check the status updates of each and every Facebook friend.  You sort through your email inbox and finally clear out those junk messages, including the several hundred promoting male enhancement (which I swear I never signed up to learn anything about).


Regardless of which activity grabs you by the brain and makes you forget the rest of the world around you exists, it happens to all of us.  The true value of the time spent in whatever vortex of distraction happened to suck you in lies with how you feel about it afterward.

What Have I Wrought?

From the time they were old enough to play with Lego bricks without my having to check their stool for days after to make sure swallowed pieces were passed, my sons have received sets in celebration pretty much every holiday, birthday and special event.  They get so many, in fact, that they often cannot build them fast enough.  This time of year in particular, a few sets remain stacked in their boxes, waiting to be built.

When their Lego fascination was in its early stages, it was an absolute necessity that I build on their behalf.  Of course, I didn't mine this.  In fact, I looked as forward to their receiving Lego sets as they did because I knew the onus of construction would fall to my capable fingers.  The first time I awoke on a weekend to find that they had completed a small set on their own while I slept in, I was heartbroken.

Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the...Night

Somewhere along the line, I'm guessing around the same time period when my hangover recovery time lengthened, my taste for oatmeal developed and my ability to fall asleep in the middle of a crowded movie theater while watching an action film complete with explosions developed, I became a morning person.  I realized this today as my sons stumbled around the house, bleary-eyed and bed-headed, and whined about having to go to school.



For a few moments, I had no sympathy.  "They slept for at least ten hours," my adult mind rationalized.  "I would kill for that much sleep."


I threatened to put them in bed at sundown for the remainder of the winter if they didn't get moving.  Video games were this close to being taken away for the week and I was stomping around the house, untying knots in shoelaces and sternly announcing with clenched teeth, "You can take it off when you get to school, but you are putting that sweater on before you leave this house or so help me, God..."  This must have been a real treat for my wife, whom I so graciously allowed to (try to) get some extra sleep.

I'll Save You, Princesszzzzzzzzz

It disgusts me to admit it, but I have become a casual gamer.  Once a twelve-year-old who possessed a near perfect Tecmo Bowl record, crushed Dr. Wily and all his nefarious creations and always (yes, always) scored 5000 points on the pre-castle flagpole jump, I have grown into a man with a video game learning curve larger than the turning radius on a semi truck.


The sad state that my gaming has fallen into was made evident today as I made an attempt to get back on a horse that desperately tried to throw me.


I relinquished ultimate control of the Wii console to my sons back when their friends started coming over daily to play.  This decision was made easier by my brother's purchase of an Xbox console for me and my wife (yeah, right!) as a combined Christmas and birthday gift one year.  For a while I was dedicated.  I purchased relatively new games and even downloaded an occasional title, some that I love (like Mega Man 10 or Limbo) and some that I regret (the original arcade version of Tron).  The point is, I made an effort.  I was on year five of my Madden franchise, had beaten several titles form beginning to end and had struggled to become a step above complete embarrassment during online MW2 matches.


When my work schedule changed drastically at the start of 2011, sleep became a much higher priority than gaming on any console.  It shouldn't be that way and it never had been before in my life, but my aging physiology deemed it so.


Thus, jealousy would rage inside me as I heard my sons gaming in the basement while I tended to other matters that had lapsed during my sleep.  On more than one occasion I had to resist the urge to trip a child I had just let in the door and told, "They're downstairs playing Wii," out of spite.


Then, for Christmas, my wife bought me the new Legend of Zelda game Skyward Sword.  I was determined to start fresh.  If Zelda and her proclivity to fall into perilous danger (seconded only by Princess Peach) could not inspire me to grasp my sinking gaming career with both hands and hoist it from the shadowy void of adulthood, no fictional video game character could.


And so it came to pass that Transformer Generation Dad cleaned the basement of errant Lego bricks, swept up the remnants of popcorn from the floor, positioned his well worn recliner in the dead center of the room, popped in the first Legend of Zelda game he committed to playing since having children...


...and discovered that his Wii remote was not equipped with Motion Plus.


After some encouragement from my wife, I ventured off to quickly, soon expiring coupon in hand to pick up an adaptor.  Several hours and a vivid reminder why I don't enjoy shopping at Best Buy (being given advice from a "specialist" who happens to be an eighteen year old kid with a blank expression on his face and who starts every answer with the phrase, "I'm not really sure, but..." does not make me a confident consumer) later, I returned home with two pizzas, no Wii remote adaptor and a ball of rage in my stomach that I am fairly certain may be the early signs of an ulcer.


The Nintendo gods did not want me back.  My effort to scale to the top of their mountain and pay homage at their temple saw me cast down to the jagged rocks below.  I thought back to my quest to defeat New Super Mario Bros. Wii.  I simply could not defeat Bowser during the final battle and gave up, only to have my seven-year-old defeat it within a few tries while I was gone one day.


There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth as I lamented my falling into disfavor.  It was interrupted only when my wife told me to stop whining and just go buy a whole new remote from a nearby GameStop.


Begrudgingly, I walked in to find no lines, helpful service and a used remote with the necessary adaptor that had technically never been opened.  Within twenty minutes and sitting in my recliner watching the opening sequence of my newly adopted quest.


The Nintendo gods had smiled upon me once again.  They had simply meant to test my resolve.  If this prodigal son was to return, his commitment would need to be tested.  Apparently, I passed.


But then I stopped to write this post, go to the bathroom and eat a few cookies.  Now, I must get back to my game before I upset them again.  Goodbye, sunlight.  Hello, Link.

One Brick to Rule Them All

It goes without saying that I am a huge Lego fan, but I said it anyway.


As a kid, I built a Lego town that spanned two, count 'em, two unused dining room tables in my basement.  It had a downtown area with skyscrapers and parking garages.  A train (one of the earliest Lego train models) circled its borders.  It even had a space shuttle launching site.  Thank God I was never trusted with any urban planning because the proximity of the launch pad to the rest of the town would have left it in a heap of melted plastic.


For as into my Lego town as I was, the Lego Star Wars sets would have easily risen above the city sets on my Lego hierarchy.  Alas, I was in what many Lego enthusiasts refer to as the Dark Ages when Lego began making Star Wars sets.  When Episode I was released, I was preparing to finish college and the money I had was still going toward beer and books, not plastic bricks.  I'm sure my parents are glad I had not been purchasing Lego Star Wars sets as well as they would have had an entirely new problem on their hands of Lego starships hanging from their ceiling instead of sitting on a table (note to self: figure out a way to hang the boys' Lego Star Wars ships form the ceiling; convince wife it takes up less space, pun intended).


With this obsession over two awesome things combined to make one even awesomer thing (Lego + Star Wars = Lego Star Wars, or where you not paying attention?) in mind, imagine my excitement when I read the news on The Brothers Brick blog that Lego had acquired the rights to produce Hobbit and Lord of the Rings sets.


I know!


I have been barely able to contain my absolute joy over this.  Each time I converse with someone, it begins with my attempt to analyze whether or not they will be interested in the news.  If there is even the slightest chance that they will be, it slips from my mouth in a slightly higher than intended volume at even the most forced segue opportunity.


"It was awesome, he hit the shot just before the buzzer.  You should have seen it."


"Right before the buzzer?  Wow.  Interesting they would use a buzzer, not a bell.  A buzzer buzzes, but a bell rings.  Speaking of rings, have you heard that Lego is going to start making Lord of the Rings sets?"


But for as willing as I have been to embarrass myself at holiday parties by hijacking conversations, the greatest amount of excitement came when I allowed my brain to come down from its euphoric high of lego and all awesome franchises living in harmony (what's next, Lego Firefly?  Lego Zelda?  Lego Marvel Universe?...I hear that last one really is forthcoming).  Some of my favorite video games over the past decade have been the Lego Star Wars games.  They have allowed for total immersion into the Star Wars films' events better than any other game in my humble opinion.


Now there is certain to be a Lego Lord of the Rings video game.


I know!


At this point, I've had to temper my enthusiasm before it gets the best of me.  I have resigned myself to wait until the game is released.  I will try and put it out of my mind until then.  Once it is out, however, I will play it with my older brother to its completion and the kids can get a crack at it after.

Third Person Thursday: High Seas Distractions

It had been a long, hard day, filled with distractions.  Finally, he sat down at the table with his laptop and intended to get some writing done.


This particular Thursday, the author had envisioned a story about the Elf on the Shelf, the children's book and accompanying, somewhat creepy elf doll that was meant to help keep his sons in line during the Christmas season.  The story had buzzed about in his head all day.  It was simply a matter of taking the time to type the words and that time had finally come.


His fingers hovered momentarily above the keyboard and the story spun through his mind once again.  It would be at once heartwarming and humorous.  Silly and suspenseful.  It was a work of art in his brain only waiting to be set free.


But just before the first keystroke landed, another opportunity presented itself.  He cast aside his writing and dove headlong into the glory of distraction, not stopping until it had run its course and far less time than necessary remained to write the tale of the elf.


After a moment's regret, he looked again to that which had diverted his attention.

Then he mumbled to himself, "Yarr, it be worth every wasted second, it be."


Just then his son came up from the basement to discover his massive Lego set completed.  "It's finished?  Thanks, dad," he exclaimed and gave his father, the author, the builder, a great big hug before starting an imaginary pirate battle.


He was right about it being worth it.  It be.  It most certainly be.