*Poof* Goes the Conversation

Well, that hurt.

Years ago, Google, of which Blogger is a subsidiary, urged me to host the comments for Trollbones on G+. And that seemed like a fine idea at the time. I was very active on G+ so it meant my social networking and blogging would dovetail nicely. Yeah for corporate integration!

Jump ahead to 2018, and G+ is being shutdown on an ever accelerating schedule. The developers behind Blogger and Google are disdainfully non-forthcoming with a way to migrate Plus-posted blog comments to the traditional system, and the longer I hold out for that, the more new comments are made that will just vanish come April.

So, metaphorically ripping off the band-aid, I've just flipped the switch back to the default comments system. I had hoped the old comments would still be preserved in my regular G+ stream, which can be downloaded before the termination date .... but no, they're just gone. Years of insight and suggestions, criticism and insults ... gone. 

To Hell with corporate integration. Particularly, to Hell with Google. I'm seriously considering migrating this blog to Wordpress, or Dreamwidth.

So it Began

Talking with folk at last weekend's DieCon, I was reminded that my initiation into tabletop roleplaying seems to be atypical of most others in the OSR audience.

As a kid in the 1980's, I didn't have a an older brother or wargaming uncle (or venerable SF-fandom aunt) to show me how to throw my first d20, nor a hobby/SF/Computer/AV club to hang out with. Growing up literally isolated in the hills, I didn't have many friends to hang out with at all, so if there were kids caught up in the (by that point waning) D&D fad in my area, I never met them. What I did have though was a TV and a heedless dedication to adventure cartoons. So my introduction to "Dungeons & Dragons" was the eponymous Saturday morning show. And that show was amazing back then (actually, it still holds up pretty well even today). 

Episode 16 The City at the Edge of Midnight

Of course, though it was great entertainment, the cartoon wasn't at all good at conveying what D&D actually was. Somehow, probably general pop-culture osmosis, I got the insight that D&D was originally a game ... but at the time and at that age, "games" meant to me either boring old boardgames like Monopoly and Scrabble, or hot exciting computer games (mostly in arcades), and I had never seen Dungeons & Dragons in either of those contexts. Eventually however, I caught the right ad and I finally knew what D&D really was: a bulky squawking castle-shaped plastic slab that you moved an adventurer around trying to find the treasure before the dragon got you and the buzzer went off.

Yes, that was what little-me thought the show (and all those D&D action figures and comics and coloring books) was based on.

But wait, it gets even goofier: the first roleplaying book I ever bought was the 1st edition Monster Manual, but only in an act of complete misapprehension. Through the 80's, parapsychology was still a fad, and "non-fiction" books listing monsters and ghosts were common, particularly illustrated ones written in list-format directed at kids like myself. So when I found the Monster Manual in a hobby shop, I took it for another encyclopedia of monsters for its own sake, albeit with spectacularly involved stat spreads (sorta like baseball cards). As for the "D&D" branding on the cover ... well, it was a time of Battlestar Galactica beach towels and Kool-Aid video games; trade dress often had nothing to do with function. 

Really, with that great cover image, it's surprising I ever got around to even reading the title.

Eventually enough clues piled up that I figured out, "oh, this is a paper & pencil version of Rogue ... I can play it without a computer!" Like I said, I'd met computer games first, and played uncounted hours of the ASCII dungeon-crwler Rogue on a for-the-time cutting edge "386" desktop (which both gave me a head-start on a lot of D&D's concepts but a lot of incorrect notions about others). 

Still prefer Rogue to NetHack; that little dog is a pain.

Entranced by the boundless possibilities, next birthday I asked for the Red Box Basic set, much to my father's chagrin. He was distressed at my persistent interest in monsters and science fiction and fantasy, things he thought I had to grow away from in order to become a real man (he was already annoyed I'd wasted all that time on the computer playing Rogue instead of learning how to make spreadsheets). So I was disappointed but not surprised when the celebratory day came and went without the requested gift. 

Until the next day, when my mother conspiratorially handed me a brand new Red Box. She said they just forgot to bring it out with other presents, but I suspect there was a behind-the-scenes showdown and late visit to the hobby store in defiance of the old man's gruff. Thanks mom, you're the best.

So there it is, I'm a testament to successful media licensing.

Where it all started ... eventually.