A Sendoff for 2010
New Year’s Eve. As fireworks crackle in the distance, Apple and I find ourselves ready to crash early for a good night’s sleep. It’s been a helluva month…or for that matter, a helluva year. With the enormous job of packing our belongings and selling our home now behind us, we move on to new challenges…but they are challenges that I am confident in our ability to meet. This relocation has already taught us much, and I’m sure we’ll learn far more by the time we settle into our next dwelling.
Today was probably one of the most “normal” days I’ve had in over a month, since the whole crazy moving ordeal really kicked into high gear. I got up at the usual time, did my usual job for the usual number of hours, and then Apple and I went out for dinner as we often do on Fridays. As our “sendoff meal” before we hit the road for Texas, we went to Loving Hut, a specialty vegan restaurant which has (as yet) no equal where we’re going. There’s just enough leftover food for our meals tomorrow, and then come Sunday morning, we’ll be off.
We took the GTO out this evening, the car’s last occasion for exercise before I park it in a garage for a month or two and come back for it (or have it shipped) later, after we move in. I was just noticing that I’ve only driven 28 miles on it since I last changed the oil approximately three weeks ago, when the “Service Engine Oil” warning went off for the first time ever. It was accompanied by a musical riff that I can only describe as the GTO’s electronic equivalent of the sad trombone. I’ve been forgetting to reset the computer when I change the oil, so as a final act before storing the car, I did just that. Tomorrow we’ll be wrapping up things here at our “interim home” (which has been very nice, by the way…thanks, Mom and Dad!) and preparing for the big road trip.
While out driving tonight, I found myself wondering if drivers in Frisco are going to be so into tailgating. I get tailgated almost constantly around here — on roads with speed limits of 45, I tend to drive around 50 MPH and watch as huge swaths of people go shooting by easily doing 65 or 70. I haven’t driven that much in Frisco yet, but it seems like the speeds being traveled there are consistently slower. The guys at work tell me that the cops don’t have any qualms about writing speeding tickets for anything more than 5 MPH over the limit. I’m not much a fan of hyper-sensitive law enforcement, but at the same time I’m getting a little tired of not being able to get out of anybody’s way fast enough.
The other day I went up to the post office for the final check of our mail, and as I pulled into the lot I witnessed something insane. An old woman was backing out of a parking space in a late-model Saab 9-3, and just as I was thinking that I was going to take her spot once she got clear, another woman jumps out of a white Mercedes right next to the empty space and goes running at the Saab, screaming “You almost hit my car, you dumb bitch!” She was waving her arms around and getting right in front of the Saab so the older lady couldn’t even move. There was this weird kind of standoff for a few seconds, then the Saab started to slink off and the pissed-off lady roared “Yeah, go on, get out of here!” She made one final lunge at the Saab with both middle fingers extended toward its driver before giving up and letting it go.
I decided to park in the back of the lot instead.
Seriously, the post office parking lot in this otherwise sleepy den of retired citizens has become a war zone in the last few months. This summer, on two separate occasions, I have actually witnessed a car smashing into another as it either exited or entered one of these same parking spaces. I mean, I was just walking up to the mailbox and BANG, an accident happens right in front of me. One time it was some guy’s brand new Buick Lacrosse that got hit as the blind fool next to him backed out and turned the wheel too quickly. I mean, drivers here can’t even park now without destroying things. Please, Texas drivers, have some sense. Please…be better than this!
Apple spent much of the day playing Plants vs. Zombies on our new iPad. I always enjoy seeing her become completely addicted to some game or another, because as a gamer I like to share the wealth with my loved ones. However, extended bouts of marathon gaming leave her pretty exhausted. She’s taking a break now, so I’m going to try my hand at the game once I get done writing this. I’ve gotten about halfway through the XBLA version of Plants vs. Zombies already, but now I want to start fresh. The game really is completely addictive.
That’s going to be it from me for this entry — and this year. Farewell 2010 — hello 2011! It’s symbolically appropriate that the next chapter of our lives can begin with this clean break between calendar years. I hope this New Year’s Day marks the start of a new golden age of success and fond memories — not just for us, but for all of my readers (that’s right, all five of you!) as well.
Sawasdee pee mai!
Oddball 2010: The End of Act 1
As 2010 draws to a close, let’s all take a moment to look back at the Oddball Update’s eighth year on the web and ask, “Whatever happened to that Chief Oddball guy? He never posts anything anymore.” To be honest, sometimes Chief Oddball asks himself that same question. But with just a few days left in the calendar year, I’d like to announce my pledge (or at least sincere desire) to resume posting in earnest as 2011 dawns.
And with everything happening in my life right now, there couldn’t be a more opportune time.
Things have been fairly quiet on this blog in the last couple of years, but it’s been nothing compared to the last six months or so. For it was right around that time when my wife and I first visited the new home of my employer in Frisco, TX, and decided that we were going to take the monumental step of relocating there from Florida. That touched off a whirlwind of activity and a roller coaster ride of positive and negative emotions, filling our future (and most of our present) with uncertainty. I all but stopped posting here, if for no other reason than I didn’t want to talk about things that I wasn’t sure would happen. And since it was hard to think about anything but the home sale or our move, there was little else to say anyhow.
My wife Apple and I watched as the long, boring Florida summer season transitioned into the beginnings of another snowbird tourist season with no offers on our house anywhere to be found. As local real estate prices continued to gradually decline, and faced with selling what was apparently one of the least desirable lots in our community, we became numb to the possibility that we wouldn’t be able to move at all. We settled into our routines and tried to forget about it.
And then, out of nowhere, an offer showed up right before the Thanksgiving holiday. The best kind of offer, too; the buyer was an investor and less picky about the property’s details, had cash in hand, and was ready to close in 30 days. The only problem was the offer itself: it was significantly less money than we had hoped for. Had we taken it outright, in fact, we would have owed $5,000 of our own money to the bank just to satisfy our mortgage.
Vent
Update: In case anyone tried to log in and respond to this post, there were some security issues with the blog that prevented this. Those issues have now been resolved. Sorry for the inconvenience. You can thank the &@%# comment spammers.
Although my rants used to be the cornerstone of this blog, I’ve largely let that kind of bloviating fall by the wayside in the past couple of years. Mostly, I just don’t have time to sit around for an hour and type up a hyperbolic complaint that, in the grand scheme of things, does nothing to help solve my problems. However, there are times when I feel like a tirade is in order — lest I go quietly mad. Right now is one of those times.
I’ll start with something nice, though. A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I spent a few days in Michigan, visiting family and friends in my hometown. It was actually a really good trip, filled with pretty decent weather, lots of catching up, some home-cooked meals and a few fun outings. More than anything, it was an opportunity to get some different scenery, drive some different cars, work in a different place and just enjoy the change. My daily routine here at home varies little from day to day, and simply gazing upon new things — even when they weren’t necessarily better things, as aspects of my old neighborhood can be a tad bit depressing at times what with how far they’ve fallen — was just what I needed.
As soon as we got back, though — and I mean literally within hours — the trouble started. It arrived in the form of a letter from a collections agency, which claimed I owed AT&T over $1,000 in unpaid bills for a wireless account that I knew absolutely nothing about. In fact, I’ve maintained every one of my accounts in good standing for my entire life — the idea that I was late on anything was patently absurd. Alarm bells started going off, though, when I realized that the collections agency was the same as one that my parents reported had contacted them at their Michigan address, apparently looking for me there. I decided to just call the creditor, AT&T, and get to the bottom of it.
Bad news: Some ass apparently opened an AT&T account using my name and social security number, then over the course of three months somehow racked up over $800 in charges and paid none of them. Two New York City area number were active on the account, and it had a bill-to address of somewhere in Indianapolis, IN. Interestingly, the account was opened just a matter of days after I noticed an unsolicited Hard Inquiry on my credit report from T-Mobile, another wireless provider. It seems that somebody got hold of my personal information somehow and used it to shop around for wireless service. They apparently did not succeed in getting any from T-Mobile — at least, not to my knowledge! — but perhaps because I was already a current AT&T account holder, the thieves were able to more easily bypass security procedures and open a new account using my data.
Oddball Review: Blade Kitten
Lately, it’s seemed like the name of this blog — and my nickname “Chief Oddball”, even — has become almost a misnomer. For what, exactly, is so odd about most of the stuff I post these days? Just this evening, my wife was saying that I don’t write anywhere near as many rants, tirades or random goofiness about my life as I used to a few years ago. Most of that stuff isn’t really missed, to be honest, nor do I have much interest in even reading it anymore. Today, though, despite the fact that this post is merely a video game review, I think I might be tipping the scales back toward the “odd” end of the spectrum.
The reason is because the game I’m reviewing today, the Xbox Live Arcade platformer Blade Kitten, is almost universally hated by everyone. At best, the mainstream reviews and opinions I’ve found online view the game as mediocre. At worst, they consider Blade Kitten a mess, filled with clunky and unresponsive controls, horrible and clichéd voice acting, and an an over-the-top art style that rips off every anime stereotype in the most obvious, Western-centric way possible.
What’s odd is that I, meanwhile, find the game colorful, charming and way more fun than it apparently has any right to be — to the point where I’ve put AAA titles like Halo: Reach on hold to bask in its mega fun-ness.
Begin obligatory infodump: Blade Kitten is a 3D sidescrolling platformer, vaguely similar to Super Mario Bros (for you old hats) and Shadow Complex. Based on a webcomic of the same name that was created by one “Space Captain Steve,” its futuristic sci-fi setting follows the exploits of a partially-human, partially-feline woman named Kit Ballard who is like a sort of galactic bounty hunter. The game is partially about hacking and slashing enemies with your floating Darque Blade, but mostly it’s about collecting Hex, better known as money. (Or coins, again for you old hats.)
Violations
I received a call from my parents this afternoon to inform me that their house had been broken into while they were out. Apparently, a couple of guys smashed down one of the doors, went inside and calmly carted out their widescreen TV, laptops and myriad other electronics in broad daylight during the middle of the day. Although a very cool neighbor (a former military man) called the cops and even got the perps’ license plate number as it happened, the stuff has not been recovered and, as of right now, there is no resolution. Just a whole lot of broken glass, missing stuff and frayed nerves.
This is a huge shock not only to them, but to me as well. I grew up in that house, after all. The neighborhood isn’t the greatest in the world, but it’s hardly a war zone. In fact, the accepted stereotype of the area where my parents live is probably a lot worse than it actually is; in all the years I’ve lived there we’ve never had anybody break into the house. Once, in the early ’80s, our car was stolen out of our driveway overnight; even then, we got it back in near-perfect condition in a few days. But nothing like this, that I can recall, has ever occurred.
As a result, I don’t have much personal experience to draw on when trying to evaluate how I should feel. I don’t even live there anymore, and I feel like my own personal space has been violated. Now I have a better idea of how my friend Forster must have felt a few months back when a prowler broke into his truck and made off with some personal effects. What disturbed him and his wife most wasn’t the missing stuff or the broken truck window, but the mere idea that some ne’er-do-well was right outside their house while they slept. I think I can empathize with those feelings a bit more today.
Coincidentally, it was just yesterday evening that my wife and I booked tickets to visit my parents later this year. The thought of staying in that house now, in that neighborhood, is no longer quite so pleasant. It’s a sad way to feel about the place where you grew up, even though statistically I’d guess that the likelihood of this happening again to the same home anytime soon is infinitesimal.
The current economic situation is probably acting as a strong catalyst for this kind of behavior all over the country. As the victim of such a crime, there’s little else to do but repair the damage, beef up doors and locks where you’re able, replace the stolen goods and get on with your life. You’re doing pretty well if you can take an incident like this and turn it into an opportunity to make improvements that might prevent future break-ins, or make the recovery process easier.
Speaking of which, I’m already doing some thinking for our own benefit here, particularly with regard to safeguarding data. At first it looked like the thieves might have taken every computer and every backup drive in my parents’ house, and since my dad works from home, that would have meant that all of his work data would have been gone. As it turns out, his backup drive wasn’t taken, so he should be able to get some of his data back once his computer can be recovered or replaced. But I work from home too, and mere idea of total data loss really gave me pause. I have local backups on external drives and discs in case of failure, but what about thefts, fire or other incidents where all of those things may be lost as well? I may need to look into an online backup solution. Right now I’m evaluating Mozy, but if anyone has specific recommendations, leave a comment below.
World’s full of crazy shit, that’s for sure. Sometimes it’s just easier than others to ignore it.
Reaching
I started this day thinking that maybe I’d go to Gameslop Gamestop and pre-order the Halo: Reach Limited Edition. Then I started thinking that maybe I should throw down a ton of money and get the Halo: Reach limited edition console. It would allow me to upgrade to the new, slimmer, quieter Xbox 360 design with its built-in Wireless-N and dedicated Kinect port, not to mention that cool Halo-themed silver design that’s right up my alley.
After crunching the numbers, checking stock (Gamestop’s sold completely out of anything Halo) and making some calls, I finished the day with a pre-order of nothing at all.
Back to plan A: Sit back, do nothing, see if there’s any leftover stock that gets marked down.
Edit: Went with plan A(2): Preordered the Limited Edition from Amazon with release-day delivery for only $0.99 extra. Received a $20 game credit for my trouble. Amazon just kicked Gameslop’s ass.
Always Bet On Duke.
The unthinkable has finally happened. Duke Nukem Forever, 13 years in the making, butt-end of every “vaporware” joke on the Internet for at least the last eight of those 13, is really on its way. It was revealed, resurrected from the ashes of 3D Realms’ demise, this past Friday at the Penny Arcade Expo (PAX) in Seattle. Not only was it revealed, but a demo build was playable on the show floor.
This is real and we are not shitting you.
Some people saw this coming. Predicted it. Perhaps it was ex-3DR chief George Broussard’s cryptic Twitter post from a couple weeks ago, containing nothing but a picture of pigs flying. Maybe it was inspired by the recent rumors that Gearbox Software, makers of Borderlands, had stepped in to finish the abandoned Duke Nukem Forever. Come Friday morning, the hints were coming fast and furious: Jon St. John, voice of Duke Nukem, was giving a keynote at PAX. Randy Pitchford of Gearbox Software was wearing a real, 1996-vintage Duke Nukem 3D T-shirt. Broussard was tweeting things like “I wanna see two things today. #dukenukem trending and crashed servers.”
And then these photos showed up, and we knew it was real. Duke Nukem was back.
Many years past, it was George Broussard who famously said “Always bet on Duke.” Over the years, many people have scoffed at that remark. But yesterday, he was proven right.
Oddball Review: Lara Croft and the Guardian of Light
When I first heard about Lara Croft and the Guardian of Light, the new Xbox Live Arcade title from Crystal Dynamics, I didn’t think it was going to be that good. Although my enjoyment of the Tomb Raider franchise is well documented — with one exception — this isn’t technically a Tomb Raider game. See, the words don’t even appear in the title and stuff.
More importantly, though, this game departs from the usual retail disc experience of Tomb Raider as well as the core gameplay foundation that its fans have become used to. Rather than a single-player adventure game that has you jumping, climbing and cavorting your way through exotic locations in search of some ancient artifact, Lara Croft: GoL is an isometic action game that focuses much more on combat. Because combat has traditionally been one of the weakest features of the Tomb Raider series, I was not hopeful.
I was also, as it turns out, wrong.
This is a really good game — in fact, I see it as the 2010 Summer of Arcade equivalent of last year’s Shadow Complex, which I also loved and discussed here. It is, in fact, the first time I’ve ever actually enjoyed the hell out of combat in a game starring Lara Croft. You’ll notice I didn’t say “in a Tomb Raider game”, because as I’ve noted, this technically isn’t one. (Hee…you see what Crystal Dynamics did there?)
Furthermore, GoL departs from the single-player roots that traditionally underpin the adventures of Ms. Croft. This is a game with an entire cooperative element fully baked in, where you and a friend each take a leading role — one playing Lara, and the other playing Totec, the Guardian of Light himself. Totec is an Aztec god who was awakened by some greedy bad guys when they attempted to steal the ancient Mirror of Smoke, in which the evil god Xolotl was imprisoned. Xolotl escaped and began to summon his horde of evil from the Negaverse abyss, and it’s Lara and Totec’s job to rein him in again.
The Snitch
During our walk to the post office today, we spotted a guy who can only be…The Snitch.™
Not to be confused with The Stig, The Snitch is believed responsible for the variety of violation letters that the HOA sends out to the community residents. He was riding a basket-equipped bicycle, carrying a thick stack of papers scribbled with myriad arcane notes in one hand and a can of beer in the other. He would stop at random points on the street, pull up in a driveway and appear to be adding further notes to his paperwork.
It’s possible that the HOA hires this guy — or he volunteers his time with them — to catch people with driveways that are too dirty, walls that are starting to show mold, etc. Although this thought may be worthy of an eye-roll, even worse is the idea that The Snitch does all of this at the behest of no one because he enjoys sounding the alarm over every perceived fault.
You are requested to lock your doors, shutter your windows and shield your women and children from the watchful eye of…The Snitch.
(On a side note, the “Who’s Online” feature of this blog is broken after yet another plugin upgrade, so I’ve written that functionality out of the site because I no longer have the patience for the continuous fuckery it requires. A eulogy for this fallen functionality will commence at half past never. Thank you.)
