A friend of mine posted this on a mutual messageboard a couple days ago under the title: How Dave and I Came to Be.
Wish I could say it’s entirely inaccurate, I was a huge D&D dork when I was a kid. Not that that’s particularly surprising, given my penchant for building scale models of fantasy battles out of candy.
I still don’t know who made this diagram, but shit do I want to shake his hand.
Yes I’m sure it was a guy.
It’s been so long since I’ve talked about it with anyone who’s unfamiliar with the game… when I was young it was something my brother, myself and some friends had a forbidden love with. We hid the books, character sheets and dice from schoolmates because it was considered such an uncool taboo. We stashed them while at home under our mattresses, because my mother, who was at the time going through a severe case of the religion, thought they were evil or something.
First of all, neither of those make sense. If you’ve never played the game I’ll describe it in a series of Tao-like fragments. D&D is whatever you want it to be. The only rules of D&D is that you can make whatever rules you want. You are yourself and someone else.
Not to make it sound mystical or anything, but those are the essential truths I took away from growing up, “on the dice” as I came to call it. The sky’s the limit. Be whatever you want. Your only boundaries are your own imagination. It was the gaming equivalent of a big blank sheet of paper and a box of two hundred and fifty five crayons.
How is it either uncool or evil to flex the most important muscle you’ll ever have?
Since I’ve grown up, I’ve become brazen about my once hidden fascination. When I’m bored I’ll return to the world’s we created and let my mind wander on the backs of mythical creatures, sword in hand. What I’d once kept locked up like a little Anne Frank of embarrassment I now kick around like a badge of past geekdom.
But I still don’t mention it on first dates. I doubt any lady would be interested in the workings of the Deck of Many Things, or 2d10 rolls on the treasure table in the back of Dungeon Master’s Guide. Nor would I want to, the indoctrination of secrecy holds a little too strong perhaps.
Or maybe there needs to be another box on that diagram, a little dotted line from around the entire thing that leads to a big green rectangle entitled, “reconciliation of the equal importance of all things, imaginary and real.”
Which would then lead straight to that big red circle of girls.