Nate’s back – and I’m ripping sprites, huzzah!
His comment about the nineties: “In the future, the pioneering computer graphics of the 90’s will look as dated as bellbottoms.”
I got a letter from Bart after sending in the Changeling article. I saw it arrive and I was expecting some sort of terse grumble. Doubleclicked it. “Thank You! Thank you! You SAVED me!” I feel like I’m in some sort of skewed codependent editor/writer relationship, this dynamic is all wrong. He asked if I wanted to do a second article – I’m thinking of firing off a scathing review of ‘Spy Fox and Dry Cereal.’
Last night I read ‘Buffalo Girls…’ interesting interesting story. Sad, dark, a little risque. But still, the characters, the interactions – it was a painfully honest (ungh, I use that phrase too often to describe things that would better be classified as depressing… (and I use parentthetic statments too much. (Does it matter?))) portrait of a group of girlfriends in a small wisconsin town with low-class working poor and “old money” families splatted into the same place.
Nate said that he wouldn’t release it as shareware unless it were through Ambrosia: I commented that putting subliminal messages in every sixtieth frame might help sales. He rolled his eeyes as if it were obvious, and said, “Well, that’s why you want to /run/ the thing at sixty frames per second…”
Finished up more spirtes and talked a bit. Headed to Skolniks, and ate well there. There was, at least for me, a growing cloud of uncomfortableness over the whole conversation. The reason being, of course, that time was running short. And as time decreases, the casual pleasantries and sharing that occur seem more and more trivial – the perceived need to say Something Meaningful grows exponentially.
We got home, and Nate was packing up. Took everything out to the car and all that jazz. Ouch. Set his coke can on the roof as we fit everything in, and I said that it had been great working with him these last few weeks. Thanks for introducing me to Gross Pointe (Grosse Point? Pointe? Gross? Whatever) Blank. He chuckled, I said I’d be praying for him, and talk to him later. He said thanks. I said, 'Stay frosty – it’ll take more work in the 70’s, though."
As he started the car, he blinked and opened the door and stood up – and pulled the coke can from the roof. We looked at each other, and said – at the same time – “Raising Arizona.”
And then he was gone.