Bob Dylan sang:
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.
To help deal with change, I split my life up into epochs in timelines like plotlines in an Icar campaign. Partly to help me remember when things were (my memory is made from epic fail) but also to help stave off impending mid-life disappointment by remembering that I haven't wasted any of it so far. Due to the odd parallel quadrality my life has, any given group of people only see one sliver - one plot line in the campaign as a whole. Therefore, at any given time, it's laborious to explain anything as talking to any given person requires copious background. A background I'd like to share but not on Lack-Of but in a pub, over a beer/coke.
Epochs might include (in overlapping order): "Before Fish", "LTTPOOSF (First proper Icar campaign)", "Cadets start", "Gliding School start", "The Gap Year", "Undergrad", "Nicky", "Radstock", "Catherine", "Icar v3", "Clubbing avec Pete", "Post Byrn", "Buy guitar", "First Command", "Highmead", "Post Grad", "Kanako", "Desert Realm", "Chom Isis", "Sophie", "Work", "Earley Squadron", "Year of tarting about", "Kate", "Thesis commute", "Post crash year", "Married", "End of clubbing", "Resign commission", "Chom Isis 3", "Senior Instructor", "Lower Earley DMZ", "The Vigilantes", "Free RPG Blog" and "My son".
For twenty years, I've been in the Air Cadets in a range of duties from cadet, to Squadron Commander and Senior gliding Instructor. I've lead parades through London, I've given eulogies, been bollocked by Wing Commanders and a Group Captain (twice), run camps with 50 cadets and crashed an aeroplane. On the 1st of August is my 616 Gliding Squadron leaving party and the last thread between me and the ATC will be cut. It is probably wise, the last few weekends, my confidence in my ability to not let the trainee kill us both has been waning and I've begun to actually fear their flying rather than let them make the mistakes.
People at the Squadron think I'm mad to leave but my priorities are a changin. The VGS has been a staggering commitment and one that cannot yield. You either do it properly or not at all. With it, I will be leaving the Viglantes, the now defunct Squadron popular beat combo. I enjoy playing with a band and will miss it, it's be something I'll look to take back up in the future. Our last gig will be my leaving do.
I'm also ending my Icar campaign and going to take a longish break from GMing. I can't pretend to know what fatherhood is going to do to me so I think it's best to have a crescendo (might be tomorrow) and put it to bed. Looks like it's going to be an exciting finish - I have the players to thank for that, they want a good end as much as I. Fortunately, I have two other GMs in my group (Iain and Wallace) so it won't be hard to step back. Of course, I say that but I know I've been a troubled player before. Wallace has kindly volunteered to step up the plate and run some super cyberpunky Corporation.
This sounds a little doom and gloom so far but it's really about consolidating energy. There is a misconception that as soon as a child is born, the couple disappear. I would argue that I've not been around fully in the last few years anyway, so anything I do can only really be an improvement! I've had to shy away from infrequent game sessions and organising days out to various places in the SE/SW. I have never had a free weekend as weekends not gliding are spent catching up.
The reason this is coming to a head is that July is the month of endings. My last gig. My last duty this weekend. My last Icar session in this campaign. The end of the 24 hour RPG competition.
I will have to ask for your patience though, as the sprog might well feature at parties, games days, picnics in the Chilterns, DVD nights and all the other things I fancy doing with my "newfound freedom". I might just have to impose upon you to become Uncles all. This won't involve nappies by default but instead teaching him rude words, setting fire to stuff and how to mock his father.