“I want to tell you a little story,

Because it makes me warm inside.

It’s about some friends growing up,

And all the things they tried.”

Letting Go: I was planning to write a companion post to last week’s review of 2023, but I have one more thing to close the books on.

I played in a band in the mid ‘90s. It started on an afternoon when I was bored so I headed down to Schoolkids Records and ran into someone I knew. Things move quickly when you’re eighteen, and within a few days, I was in the band, they played their first show without me, and we played a second one soon after that. It ended four years later after shows scattered across the Midwest and east coast, a proper tour of Europe, and multiple records, including a couple releases on my label.

We did a few reunions over the years. The first was a year or two after breaking up, and I think there was another a few years after that. We did two in 2010 and they were a good time, but I started seeing less people I recognized in the crowd. Two more followed years later, and I hardly knew anyone. Those last ones had a couple of guys filling in for band members who had declined to take part, and it didn’t feel right. I figured that was the end of that.

It almost was. This summer, one of the guys got a hold of me. We hadn’t talked in years and spent some time catching up. Then, right at the end, came the pitch: one more show. I said I had to sleep on it. I did, and decided to decline for myriad reasons, most of which I kept to myself. And once again, I figured that was that.

Except it wasn’t, or I wouldn’t be writing this. A few months later, a friend asked me if we were playing the big local holiday show. I said I wasn’t, and I didn’t know anything else about it. The other guy in my old band went ahead and assembled a new line up and sure enough, they played a few days ago. The Instagram clips make it look like they were tighter than we were last time around. I spent that evening at home with my kids, puppy sitting and getting to bed at a sensible hour. I’m fine with that.

Playing in a band can be as intense as any other relationship. In our case, like so many others, it was a creative dynamic generated by male adolescent energy oscillating between the poles of conflict and cooperation. That’s never built to last. On our last tour, I threw a plastic fork backwards over my headrest in the van without looking, and in return, our drummer threw a power transformer at me. It could have killed me if it would have hit me in the head, but it only hit the back of my seat. We’re still friends despite that and have reconnected over the years.

But when we broke up in 1998, I no longer wanted to play music for people to beat each other up to. Our local scene was taking an ugly turn and I didn’t want to be a part of that. Watching the Insta clips, there was a huge horseshoe in front of the stage, behind the row of people who wanted to sing along. The horseshoe was empty except for a dozen people swinging their arms and kicking their legs, and everyone else was pushed to the sides. I enjoy a particular variety of physical chaos, but I’m just not interested in that sort, and I never really was.

When you do a band that intensely, it defines a period of your life. It sticks with you, and can be hard to shake. The ‘90s were like that for me. When I found the first ‘90s hardcore nostalgia blog, I had intense, upsetting dreams for a week. Those years were all about our music and our friends, hanging out constantly and trying to accomplish something. We didn’t achieve anything like the MC5, but the things they said in the True Testimonial documentary resonated with me. The conflicts between the members over their ambitious visions, the drummer still dreaming about the band every night, the feeling of failing to make it all the way. It’s intensely personal.

And so I’ve never quite let go, despite not wanting to ever do it again. But I think the cord may have finally been cut. While I was poking around, I discovered one of the guys put two of our records on Spotify and other streaming platforms. At first I felt a twinge of violation. I put out these records. I contributed to writing the songs, and booking the shows, and playing live. But you know what? Something about that threw a switch. I don’t want it anymore, and if he does, he can have it. I’m letting go.

“Someday, we’ll look back and laugh.” (-Minor Threat, of course)

Looking Ahead at 2024: The last time I saw Negative Approach, I had a distinct moment of realization while they were playing Nothing. The singer yowled, “I’ve got nothing I can look forward to…” and I thought, “I have lots of things to look forward to.” And that was the last time I ever went to see them, it clearly wasn’t for me anymore. So, looking ahead…

I’m running an adventure at Winter Fantasy in Ft Wayne, Indiana, called A Long Night At The Yawning Portal. It’s a reimagining of the first chapter of Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, and takes inspiration from the social conflicts of the classic Warhammer Fantasy RPG module A Rough Night At The Three Feathers, except with more dungeon delving. I’m only running it in the Thursday and Friday morning and afternoon slots before I head back home for my daughter’s birthday, so sign up if it sounds interesting to you.

I intend to write that up and release it on the DMsGuild. I don’t have any work contracted at the moment, but I do have a long list of other ideas to work on (156 at present count, but who knows what I meant by things like “shredder rogue” and “illithid drow lovers necromancer”). I intend to use regular blogging to get me into the habit of writing so that it’s easier to transition into design work as needed.

I’m not particularly excited about the D&D 5e revision (someone recently called it 5.24, and I think that’s the best one yet). I don’t expect it to solve any of my personal quibbles with the game, and from the looks of it, it promises an annoying degree of power creep and complication. Whatever, it will be fine. I already have more 5e material than I have time to play, and I could happily move into the OSE and/or Shadowdark design spaces. I’ll echo Mike Shea’s take and hope that the revision of 5e continues to serve as a beacon to draw people into the hobby.

I’m not sure what conventions I’ll be at after Winter Fantasy. Emerald City Comic Con is a possibility for work, but PAX East is not, due to a family obligation. GaryCon is more or less sold out, and I’m not sure I want to go all that way to run Adventurers League games for two days. I might drop by for the first half of Adepticon. I’ve never been to that one and I would like to go. Origins is a big maybe, I really don’t know about that one.

I’d like to work or attend GenCon, but it might butt up against our regional Burn, Lakes of Fire. I had to cancel going to Lakes in 2023 at the last minute so it’s a high priority for me this year. Our S’moresbord happened without me, but Japanese Punk and Beer hour did not, and clearly there could be one or two other people who would appreciate that brief respite from EDM, and I want to gift that to them (and myself!).

We bought a dirt bike for my son this year, so I need to get one for myself so that we can go ride and camp once the weather warms up. I’d like to do more backpacking after going to Isle Royale last year. That experience really stuck with me even if we didn’t get to see any of the island’s famous moose or wolves.

I’m overdue for a trip back to Japan, but my kids are old enough to accompany me so that could be a much bigger undertaking. I should really start planning while the exchange rate is so favorable.

Between that and the rest of life, I think that should be enough to fill out twelve months. I opened this post with some Minor Threat lyrics, so at the risk of sounding trite, I’ll close with Embrace:

“It’s the end of a year…

There’s another one coming.”