stuff123

How to Handle Poor Attendance in the Workplace

Every teacher has heard this one at one time or another along with a myriad of other lame excuses for not doing what was assigned. If you are going to come up with an excuse, make it more believable than this one. The problem with providing an excuse is that it is ultimately a lie and your forget which lie you used the last time you got in this kind of predicament. Just how many grandparents can one person have? Managers in the business world catch on after a while when you have gone to your 28th funeral for a grandfather, grandmother, uncle, aunt, etc.

Telling the truth is a lot simpler in the long run. You don’t have to remember it because the truth isn’t made up. It’s just simply the truth. Having beeen a manager of people in my working career, I found I got real tired of “the dog ate my homework” approach to poor attendance. One particular case was an employee that made a habit of not showing up for work on Fridays. The truth seems that he would party on Thursday night and not show up to work because he just stayed out too late and didn’t feel up to working. He also drove in a co-worker so now two people wouldn’t be at work on Friday.

So to rectify the situation, I took the approach of the first time was a friendly discussion regarding the importance of showing up for work. The second instance resulted in a verbal warning. The next instance resulted in sending him home along with his ride without pay and a written warning that the next time would be the last.

This may not seem fair to the other worker but the rest of the workers in the department were unhappy with the poor attendance of the first worker and needed to be supported with actions that showed this would not be tolerated in the long run.

So when the culprit showed up on a Monday morning after missing yet another Friday (without calling to say he wouldn’t be in. He even had his mother call in sick for him), he was told by me that he was given plenty of chances to correct the problem and now is no longer an employee of this company and he should leave the premises. Yes, he threatened legal action (which never happened) and he was smart enough to not ask for a reference.

Another person I know (in a completely different business) used this technique when someone called in sick. He would give them two days off with no pay and told them to rest up and get well and come back to work when you are feeling better. The second time this happened he gave them the week off with no pay and very quickly the problem stopped.

There will always be schemers out there trying to avoid work because they just don’t feel like it. The important thing to remember is that you must show those that take their job seriously and have exemplary attendance that they are not mistreated by allowing others to get away with bad business practises. It isn’t cruel. It’s just plain fair and those reliable employees will appreciate it.

According to my research, this is defined as someone who is 100 lbs. (or about 45 kg) in excess of the recommended weight for that individual’s body size. Let me first start by saying I am not a doctor. In my work as a freelance writer, I recently was handed a lot of assignments relating to the medical profession and observed some interesting insight into this field. An individual who is seriously overweight needs to find a way to reduce that weight to more manageable numbers to relieve the strain that this puts on the internal system and chances are they will quite possibly live longer.

One topic I was given was “lap band”. Since the other part of the assignment is to associate this with a U.S. city selected from a predetermined list, I chose New Orleans and came up with a title that said, “Lap Band is not a new Dixieland Jazz Band from Norway”. LAP- BAND® is a product now marketed by Allergan, Inc . and was originally a product of the Inamed Corporation. Allergan claims they acquired Inamed and other sources say it was a merger. No doubt, the lawsuits around silicon breast implants had something to do with Inamed’s demise.

The band is a very interesting concept and is considered minimally invasive surgery. A gastric bypass is much riskier surgery, if you believe the figures of a death rate on the operating table of 250:1 for the bypass and 2,500:1 for the band implant surgery.

Essentially, the band works like a tie-wrap that is wrapped around the oesophagus just above the stomach. Attached to the band is a tube that is connected on the other end to a “pad” that is sutured just below the skin to allow the doctor to inject a saline solution into the tube. The solution will expand the band and, therefore, restrict the flow of food into the stomach. The whole apparatus doesn’t involve a lot of stapling or removal of any part of someone’s anatomy. It can be removed if it is no longer a viable option as it was for one entertainment individual who will remain nameless.

The concept is simply this. The brain and the stomach don’t communicate very well. We tend to eat until we are full. So slowing down the intake of food into the stomach will add time to the process and may allow for less food intake. It can work, but it is also up to the patient to work with it. Otherwise, they just eat longer and don’t lose weight.

Anyone considering this surgery, should obviously discuss this with a medical professional to see if it is right for you. Fashion models might consider themselves candidates for the surgery to control weight but the surgical scar would probably deter them  from considering it because bikini modelling would likely be removed from their list.

I also discovered that the field of radiology is growing in leaps and bounds and that job opportunities are expected to grow by 15% in the United States in the next 5 years or so. There are not many careers out there in this economic environment that can talk about that kind of growth.

I am also not a financial expert, as are most writers. We don’t write for the money because it isn’t that good but save for a very few. But I would have to think that the medical health field will perform better than a lot of segments in the world market because the world population is getting older and everyone is a potential customer for some form of medical treatment.

So if you are in the category of the seriously overweight, looking for a career that will be quite stable and also looking for a place to invest your money, you might want to spend some time investigating medical websites. It is most surprising what you will learn.

No it’s not the name of an old time Motown group. (For interests sake, that is an early picture of The Four Tops that I borrowed from Jango.com and played with a little)

What I’m referring to is an attitude that seems to be out there and something that I think we need to revisit both at school but primarily at home. What triggered the story is a conversation I had with a friend while playing an online game. I refer to him as 109, even though he has let me know his real name, because we had a conversation about warplanes somewhere in the game and he mentioned that the Messerschmidt Me109 was his favourite WWII warplane. The following quote is his comments about the younger crowd out there which we were discussing at the time. It may help to know that 109 is of German descent and living in the USA and is proud of both heritages except for the Nazi war machine.

It just shows you the general mentality of todays society.
“Me, Me, Me!!!!”
Everybody walks through life with their elbows sticking out without regard of whom they might bump out of their way.
I hate it!
It is like that everywhere you turn.
“I am entitled to this and that and forget about the rest.”

Obviously, 109 is referring to the lack of mutual respect that seems to run rampant in today’s society and sadly very prevalent in a lot of  our youth.

And we discussed the need for ways to improve that scenario and that was to reintroduce some basic learning skills primarily at home and not expect the school system to take the place of a child’s primary teacher—the parents.

My advice to any parent would be to stop chasing another Bimmer and spend time with something of value—your children. Help mold them into a worthwhile member of society and keep them aware of how to deal with bad influences like the so-called cool guys hanging out at the local mall.

Take the time to teach them the 4 R’s - Reading ‘Riting ‘Rithmetic and Respect. And some parents take that very seriously and they should be commended for that because their children aren’t making the news for some criminal act or taking something from others that doesn’t belong to them.

To become  a master at anything, you must first learn the basic skills required in that discipline. In this case, the discipline is just called life.

Rochester policeman shot by 15-yr old and his mother claims he is not a monster . If he is not a monster then just what is a 15-yr old doing with a gun and hanging out with other bad kids. He obviously shows no respect for authority. In my day, we showed great respect for all policemen and recognized that they are doing a very difficult job in protecting us from danger.

Mom needs to do a reality check. I only hope the officer will fully recover. It is a tragedy that cannot go unpunished.

After reading the adjusted story, 109 came back with this comment.

When we grew up there was school, homework, chores and then play with friends. If there was any daylight left because once the street lights came on we were supposed to be at home and safe.
I was privileged since one of my chores was walking the dog after he had his supper and in spring fall and winter it was dark at that time.
So I could make the occasional stop at a friends house since I had about an hour time to walk the dog.
When I was 14- 15 years old I build model air plains and mounted blinkers on my bike. If we saw a cop we would greet them and be polite. This was standard. We would greet the people our parents knew even if we did not really know their names. We would make room for older people, hold doors open and asked them if we could help if we saw them struggle with bags at the store or with a stroller on a set of stairs etc.
Never would it cross our minds to speak ill to anyone since word of that would have reached our home before we got there ourselves.
But I guess now I sound like someone from the 50’s even though I am talking about the 70’s.
It is just all to sad that one has to be fearful stopping at a red light in the city not knowing if you get robbed or shot while waiting for the light to change.
Personally I am not one who is worried about such things since I have been in active war zones in my life and dogged many of bullets as well as fired them at individual targets with precision.
However, I am worried about those innocent people who get in the line of fire over turf and drug wars of uneducated (by their own choice) thugs with no respect for life who possess not one ounce of integrity, credibility, honor or self respect.
Sometimes I wish one could be still active on a roof top with a trusted friend fitted with a scope and take care of some of the problems that plague our cities and even now the smaller towns and rural areas.
I know it would be highly illegal to do so, but one can dream without acting on it.
I just feel that people who choose a life of crime have forsaken any and all human rights and or rights in general since they do not respect the rights of their fellow human beings and as such should be dealt with accordingly.
Sorry, I am rambling.

And I would have to disagree with the mention of rambling. I think that is called caring. 109 obviously is very passionate about the subject. He wasn’t at a loss for words, now was he.

I know he is not alone in his thinking regarding the use of force to match force, the punishment must fit the crime and other deterrents for major crimes. We have also become too forgiving for our own good and there are many out there taking advantage of that kindness.

They need to understand that this will no longer be the case. Go directly to jail or some other place that is always quite warm.

I am a big fan of World War II warplanes like 109, but I can’t decide if the P51 Mustang or the old beast of the P-47 would be my favourite. If you believe in a previous life, I would think that I could have been a pilot in that terrible war. The planes have always fascinated me starting with building models in my youth. Maybe that is part of learning respect at an early age.

Hobbies taught me things of importance that set a pretty good foundation for me later in life. I guess technology is part of the problem but only because of how we use it. The Internet can be a valuable teaching tool. Maybe you could sit down with you children and learn something together. Start with the song, Respect—Aretha or Otis. They are both classics.

SM has such weird dreams sometimes! Just doesn’t make sense most of the time

That is the notation under SM’s Facebook status today.

We all have awoken in the middle of the night and said to ourselves “What was that all about?” in response to some strange dream that we just had. It might not even be considered a nightmare because scary probably isn’t correct, while weird is probably much closer to the truth.

Some of my more memorable ones involve being in numerous places wearing just my birthday suit and find myself trying to figure out why am I in this place. Another one that seems to be repeated is where I park my car in some mall parking lot or somewhere in the centre of a big city and walk around aimlessly looking for that stupid car. It isn’t too far from reality at times.

Of course, I get out of bed and look outside to see if the car is still there and, of course, it is just fine. I have only had the misfortune of having one car stolen in my life. I will never understand the thief’s thinking. The undercover policeman bought the 6-month old car for $250 from a drug pusher.

The dreams I feel are just how we handle the anxieties and frustrations that we create for ourselves. I like to think that it is how we keep our sanity. If you found yourself worrying about every possible thing that could go wrong you will eventually end up in the rubber room. If you try to figure them out like Tim Allen wrestling to understand the bigger questions you will only end up hurting yourself.

A copy of Tim’s book I’m Not Really Here sits on the floor in my favourite reading room opened at page 110 reminding me that I wanted to here Tim’s musings about stuff, much like the fence classes he had with Wilson Wilson Jr. in Home Improvement.

Instead he got into Quantum Physics and the bigger questions. He was attempting to resolve his dreams in the book, in my opinion. He said it best in the book “The chances of an answer – much less a coherent one – are about as slim as bumping into Mother Teresa at a Madonna concert.”

Do yourself a favour. Just roll over and go back to bed. It’s just your mind flushing the trash bin.SM might consider not eating that peanut butter sandwich or that tasty chocolate bar before going to bed. It’s very normal and you are going to have more of them in your long life.

Another thing not to do with dreams is assume that a good idea comes out of them and you should keep a notepad or voice recording device (no one uses a tape recorder anymore do they?) next to the bed. Have you ever tried to write in the dark and if you listen to the tape, you leave yourself wondering who was that talking and what is all that jibberish about plaid golf balls and motorized donkeys.

I still find that my best ideas seem to come ffrom a trigger in the real world like SM’s Facebook status that comes as a news feed on my homepage. SM accepted me as a friend and because her security setting is set to viewed by Friends, that information appears on all Friends news feed. It is harmless stuff, but it reminds us that some things should not be made available so freely like telephone numbers and addresses. Use personal messages to relay that information just like you would in a face-to-face encounter.

The best advice on how to handle dreams that don’t make a whole lot of sense might come form Mick Dundee.

No worries mate.

It’s winter in Canada so the days are shorter and it always reminds me that human beings are just another animal on this planet and maybe not the smartest one either. I think the big bear comes out in me at this time of year. Although I think my “hibernation” is more a reaction to staying in out of the cold because I don’t ski or play hockey like I used to.

So it seems you still get tired and a good nap is in order to recharge the batteries. For the last three nights I have had the perfect accompaniment for this nap. It’s professional hockey’s all star break so there was the NHL All Star game, the AHL All Star game and tonight the Leafs are back playing. They all were more like shinny games we played at the local open air rink as kids. Lots of scoring and no defence.

There is something about the crowd noise and the announcers voices that is comforting. It’s almost like your mother’s tranquilizing voice singing a soothing lullaby. I guess for Canadians, that’s not too far from the truth. It is our game although others argue that lacrosse is more correctly our national game. They both have very strong routes here, there can be no doubt of that.

The preamble to the AHL game was doubly embarrassing when a former American Idol finalist butchered both the Canadian and American national anthems. And somehow Toronto was part of the Planet World Team and got booted out of Canada because Milwaukee, Hershey, Scranton and Worcester all got transplanted to Canada for the game. So I didn’t miss anything there either. When did Wisconsin get a navy—The Milwaukee Admirals?

And the Leaf game. Last time I looked it was 6-1 for the Minnesota Whatevers in those awful red and green uniforms—Minnesota Wild? I remember two teams in Minnesota—the North Stars and the Fighting Saints (NHL & WHA). Once again Wiki came to the rescue when I couldn’t recall the Saints team colours even though I was working in team sales for Cooper at the time. The last two seasons had a notation that I thought was only reserved for car racing—DNF (Did not finish). They folded the team twice in the dying years of the World Hockey Association.

The WHA had two teams with the same team colours—Edmonton and San Diego. Made the equipment managers earn their keep after a fight. It added a new meaning to delaying the game. I guess San Diego Hamburgers in a brown and red uniform wouldn’t work. Ray Croc of McDonald’s fame was the owner.

Oh yeah and the DNF thing. That reminds me, NASCAR will be starting soon. Sunday afternoon will be nap time again. Nothing like the drone of 43 engines on steroids to lull you to sleep.

Those are power naps!!

It was for this guy.

And if you don’t know who Dale Earnhardt Sr. was, you should get out of your cave more often. Yes I am joking, but he is perhaps the most famous race car driver that ever lived and sadly, he died doing what he loved to do, race stock cars.

In the field of auto racing the number 3 is Senior’s for eternity. No one wants to use it in the upper ranks of the sport because it would be considered a sign of disrespect to a fallen comrade. The only acceptable person to take this number might be his son Dale Earnhardt, Jr. but I don’t think he would accept it willingly. I think Junior would prefer to be number 8 but, due to contractual agreements, he has to settle on 88. It is more important to him that he be part of a motivated and forward thinking team than to just stay someplace where he could keep the number 8.

When I think of 3 in other contexts, here’s some of the things that came to mind.

• 3 Coins In A Fountain
• 3 Men & A Baby
• Three Dog Night
• The Three Musketeers

So I looked up the number 3 in a numerology related website—starlightnumerology. A lot of the things they said were true of my personality, but so were 4 and 8 and 11. I think that is part of getting older. You become more well-rounded in your personality because you have experienced more and you learn how to apply the new stuff you learned.

It’s Ernie the accountant at work again. He’s never satisfied if he can’t put something in a box—left column, right column, black, white, 6, nationality, etc. etc. It’s very much the same in psychology where they try to place you into only 4 boxes—thinker, relater, socializer, director. Thank goodness people aren’t that simple!

And only 3 coins means it’s a really new fountain, and 7 dogs would make it a much colder night than 3 and I’d feel a whole lot better going into battle with 4,302 Musketeers. The book and movie would be a lot longer, of course.

The significance of the number 3 in the lead of this story is not the number. It is the man that sat in the seat that drove that car on many Sundays in racetracks throughout the world. My only wish is that he wasn’t so stuck in his ways and wore his restraint system properly. He might have been able to share another magical moment with his son like he did when Junior won his first big race. Junior might one day become a father too and Grandpa won’t be there to spoil the dickens out of the little beater.

So a number is a number. You use it to measure something relative to something else. Human beings are what counts.

I learned that the other day while taking an actual long walk and a lot of other things that I didn’t know about myself or maybe that I just need to be reminded of from time to time. Nothing like a good whack on the side of the head.

The Long Walk is about the cheapest thing you can do for maintaining good health—both physical and mental. I used to jog a lot but it was a lot harder than walking on some things like the knees and back and the pocket book. Good running shoes aren’t cheap and you have to wear good ones or you get shin splints and make it even harder on your knees and back.

So part of getting older is the getting wiser thing. You are reminded of the old doctor joke. You know the one. “Doc, it hurts when I go like this.” And the doctor replies with “So don’t go like that.” (For me, it’s always in the voice of Mel Brooks aka Melvin Kaminsky. He takes some really interesting routes on his walks)

And you have to try to remove the things that might confuse you in the Long Walk like I did with my multi-focal’s. They kept changing my focal point so much that I actually felt off balance. So next time, I will try the actual Long Walk with my glasses tucked inside my pocket.

And so I walk a lot more now. The actual long walk is something I need to do more often, but here are some of the other ways I take long walks.

Writing is a long walk. I try it in different “settings” so that it doesn’t get stale. Sometimes I write at night with only the light of the computer screen glaring back at me. Sometimes I have the television turned on but it is more like a radio because I haven’t moved it into a better viewing position. The television is talking to an empty couch a lot more these days.

And sometimes I have iTunes or Jango playing in the background because music will take you to places you haven’t been or have just forgotten. And sometimes, I slide the patio door open to hear the sounds of the world around me. And other times, I lay down on the couch with no radio or television playing and just plug in the recharger like I do so often with mouse batteries. (Use rechargeable batteries. “Mum” will thank you for it. see Listen…)

And I know I will discover more ways to take a Long Walk. Certainly the Internet is a really big one along with games that I play on the computer, especially the ones I make up for myself.

And other times the Long Walk is a short walk just outside my front door. I talk with my neighbours or a stranger that is at my door. They both probably think I’m maybe kinda’ little strange like I’m on something.

Yep, it’s called life. I’m understanding it better now. And like all long walks, it feels good.

Sometimes people think that there must be something wrong with you when you act that way. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that they haven’t experienced that sensation in life yet.

And I don’t get so discouraged when people don’t respond to my emails or Facebook messages or telephone calls. You see they are on their own Long Walks. Eventually, our paths will cross. When they’re ready, or maybe you could go on a walk and try to find them. Just a thought.

Winter’s recently have been a reminder to me that I don’t get out and do enough stuff for my own good. Back in the day I would go skiing or jog or even bicycle ride sometimes. You just had to dress properly. Most of the time the roads and sidewalks didn’t have that much snow on them.

Well the car wouldn’t start the other day and I had to go to the bank to sign some stuff for a retirement plan that I was transferring from another financial institution that only sends me an obligatory update once a year. The trip would be mostly down hill and I could take a cab back if I can find one. There aren’t too many in a town this size.

So I decide I’ll just dress for it and walk. It felt really good and I didn’t have to apologize to the sidewalks for pounding the stuffing out of them like I did when I jogged. I used to wear out a pair of good jogging shoes every two months. And my knees used to complain a lot because most of the time you had to run on concrete especially in the winter. I hated running on tracks. It was too easy to quit.

Jogging through a neighbourhood or park was much more interesting and you had to find your way back so I only resorted to walking when I needed to rest. Once sufficiently recovered you just started jogging again. It gives you time to think and relieves a lot of built up tension, not to mention all the cardiovascular benefits.

Well guess what walking does that too. And the old brain doesn’t take time off in a walk either. In fact I think it takes over. The only negative is that multi-focal glasses aren’t real good for a walk because you are changing your focus point so often. I actually felt off balance. Next time I think I’ll just put them in my pocket and see what happens.

And on the walk I met Striker, a 4-yr. old lab, who was just as interested in me as I was in her. Her master was really a nice person too. He was very pleasant and had no problem talking to strangers.

And I went to Alfonso’s garage to set up the repair of that stupid car sitting in the driveway. Went across to the bank and signed the papers and had a nice discussion about bank staffing with my advisor in the bank.

I learned that the bank is like a totally different business during the day when everybody in the branch wants to work those hours. Two staff members greeted me with smiles and another asked the gal sitting in the reception area if I was taken care of and tellers were joking with customers. I had been in this branch 2 nights before and was pretty much ignored and I felt like I was treated like a rag. So I won’t be going to the bank at night or on the weekends anymore.

And I walked another 8 or 9 blocks up and down some big hills, did some grocery shopping and turned back the way I came looking for a cab. None in sight. Might as well start walking and maybe one will appear.

And I passed a complete stranger who looked at me and smiled and said hello and I did the same. Still no cab to be found. No bus service in this town. Ah what the heck, I’ll just truck it all the way home.

Lesson learned today. Hills driven in a car are 10 times longer and 10 times steeper than what you feel while driving. I had to stop a few times and adjust the groceries and slow down the old ticker and breathing, but boy did it feel good when I got home.

I think I’m gonna’ go for a stroll in the old neighbourhood again. I just think I’m going to find a better route than that hill and maybe I’ll use the car to get me close and then walk the rest of the way.

It’s very much like the difference between walking a golf course and riding a cart. You become one with your surroundings. It’s a much better game.

It was like something decided that I was on to them and they stood in front of my mind’s eye so I could identify them more clearly. For me, the game is a metaphor for the rat race that we all have participated in. It’s called the working world. Dog eat dog. Kill or be killed. Too many Bad Bruces. People who said they were your friend but you knew they weren’t to be trusted. They had other plans for your stuff.

I didn’t think too much of the people that were always in a hurry to better their financial position in life at the expense of others. There goals included chasing yet another “Bimmer” and a bigger, fancier box to live in so they could have more space for the meaningless stuff that they would acquire along the way.

Yes that is a George Carlin routine. He just called it stuff (Where do you think I got the name for the blog? Everybody stole from Carlin because he was an orignal thinker. Ask Jerry Seinfeld, he’s the one who shared that story in the New York Times shortly after George’s passing). Eventually, I think George will be remembered as one of the greatest philosophers of our time.

And in the game, other tribes are inviting me to join. The ink is still drying on their requests as they are swiftly refused. I think that what I had built would have beeen the 14th largest tribe on it’s own in the continent.

So Ernesto and I have begun to talk. He sent me a link to a game that the developers of Tribal Wars make. It’s called Tribal Hugs. It misses the point of enemies. We will always have enemies of some kind—terrorists, hunger, disease, cancer, suicide, war, ignorance, crime.

I didn’t load the game because I fear it’s look and feel will be the same as Tribal Wars—cold and lifeless. The games I have played in Facebook are much more interesting from a graphical point of view but that’s not why I play them.

I found an even more rewarding game to play. Many of these games allow you to invite another player into your tribe/horde/team/crew. I look for interesting people (picture, game name, real name(sometimes), country (sometimes)) to invite to my Internet family and I use things that they say and do as triggers for stories.

I have learned many new things about the world that I did not know. I almost had Ernesto playing the find the blind gorilla game, but he gave up—”I can’t find you”. That wasn’t like the Ernesto I first met in the game.

Some of the this out of game communication, happened in Tribal Wars, but it was much to infrequent for my liking so I will leave this land and maybe I’ll come back from time to time to see what has changed.

I will have to talk to tex and Ernesto to find out how to get the villages I built back into the tribe so that they have access to their resources and troops. Stretch seems to have just disappeared.

Good games don’t have an ending, but they should be a rewarding experience. I think the designers need to find a way to put more life into this game if they expect the players to invest the time and money that they are looking for.

I find it interesting that they are trying to sell the company. I think they know the future of the game and now is a good time to sell when it is still perceived as valuable.

It is just a game, but not a very good one, in my opinion. You are welcome to yours.

TW = Tribal Wars

RW = Real World

That’s how the “believers” in this game refer to their life. It’s more like a religion that a bunch of people grouped together to play a game. Tribal Wars requires a person with the right makeup to continue to play. I have learned that I am not one of them. I know that it isn’t fulfilling anymore. I’ve met up with Mr. Frustration and Mr. Anxiety and very recently Mr. Despair. Games are supposed to be about fun and this one isn’t fun for me anymore. One of my tribe mates said “No one ever wins this game.” I don’t think he realizes how profound that statement truly is.

And I came to the realization as to why. I thought it had something to do with the direction our tribal leader was taking us. I’ll call him Ernesto after Ernesto “Che” Guevara, the noted revolutionist. I don’t think its a coincidence that they are both from the same city in Argentina. They both understand the intricacies of destruction and killing. I don’t like to do either. I like to build, to create, to develop things. That’s why writing is a good fit for me.

One of my neighbours in the game is all but 14. He doesn’t understand the game. He wants to build things. And I continued to destroy his building blocks which is a game requirement. At first, he whined and complained and used a name for his village that I thought was offensive—”Hippies Die Here.” How does a 14 year old get these ideas? So I continued to attack “Junior” periodically.

Eventually, he asked why I was doing this to him. And we began to communicate. I told him I didn’t think his village name was respectful and that I would destroy him. I talked to him like the other players do to each other. It felt hollow. I was gaining no satisfaction in the deeds. So he asked what do you think I should call it then. I said you figure that out. I teach snot-nosed little kids like you lessons in life. I was playing the game the way it is intended.

He changed the name to “We Come In Peace”. Out of the mouths of babes.

I didn’t know what to do next. So I started to try and explain that this game is not for you and you need to try something with adventure and learn. He has signed up for Facebook and will join me in the RW to do something that will create and not destroy, as I suggested he should try. He reminds me of another snot-nosed kid I once knew. He thought he had all the answers. He knew nothing. That was me at his age.

So I’m working on my exit strategy for the game. I don’t think I should just walk away from my tribe mates like so many players do once they realize that this game takes a special kind of commitment. I need to leave a legacy. Something that they might remember me by.

Interestingly enough, Mr. Frustration, Mr. Anxiety and Mr.  Despair have all gone away since I have decided on this path.

The tribe hasn’t been challenged much and has grown in leaps and bounds with really nothing new for the tribe to sink their teeth into. So I’m waiting for the right moment. It’s coming soon.We are planning a group attack of some kind. Ernesto has declared our next step. It’s been delayed so I have some time to build up a little more. I don’t know what my silence will do because I no longer respond to any mail including other tribes that know we are going to attack.There’s treachery everywhere.

I’m going to recall any support I have in other tribe mates villages, at that time. They may have some support in my villages but since I haven’t responded to Ernesto’s inquiry, I highly doubt it.

I will send 1 Spear to Ernesto’s main village—it’s called a trip wire.

I will then leave the tribe and then I will commence a series of attacks at one particular target—some/most/all of Ernesto’s villages. I know I cannot survive but I am not concerned about that at all. The tribe will have a new and difficult challenge. What will they do next? I have some trusted friends in the tribe, if they are still playuing. What will their reaction be?

The attacks will be underway as you read this. It won’t be posted till after the campaign is underway. It is suicide, but I need to do it. I need to learn something more from this game experience. I am not suicidal in nature. Suicide only leaves deep scars for those that are left behind. I know this to be true. My father committed suicide at about the time in my life when I was the same age as Ernesto. I hope to gain some further understanding as to why.

And then I will move on and explore and build in the Magical Mystery Tour called Hammerfall. It’s more my style. I think Junior’s new village name triggered my new outlook.

The tribe will learn some valuable lessons from this exercise. They will determine their own fate and I will continue to write about it for a time. I have given them no option. There is no possibility of my return because I choose not to return. I don’t know if this has ever happened in TW before but I doubt anyone will attempt to document it as I plan to do.

The next post will be “TW - It Continues”. Maybe we will both learn something of value from all this killing and destruction. Because we must never forget, this is a game, it isn’t life. Life has value. I can’t see the value in this game.

It’s interesting to me to note that this game is based in Germany. They do have a rather long history of killing and destruction. Not all of them of course, just the arrogant Nazi war machine. What would possess Edsel Ford to mix in those circles?

Money, money,  money