Time was, we used to game* for days. There was a flophouse apartment, of near the lowest ilk, with a blue mix of shag mess on the floor. It had two floors, and there were beds strewn about. We all worked at crap jobs, and made things like Magic Cookie Bars to share whilst running down kobolds or evil shadow dragons or the like.
Concomitant with this gaming and flopping were the presence of many an oddball. My GM** is the bestest in the world, so she attracted itinerant gamer types. One such fellow traveler was a guy named George, a portly, blonde and bearded soul who clearly was operating a few notches below fourth gear in the old brain box department. He wasn't mentally disabled, so much as just slower than most.
So one day we're sitting around between battles and such, and he whips out an acoustic guitar. "Oh," I think. "Maybe we're going to see where his genius lies." So he starts strumming, saying he's going to play a song he wrote. I agree to listen. After all, my own character was and is a bard herself, so bringing a little music into real never hurt, I thought.
George starts his song, a melancholy yarn, and goes on through several chord changes before singing, "Whyyy.... oh whyyyy" and then going on for many, many more bars before piping up again in song, "Whyyyyy" and then going on for many, many more measures, then "Oh whyyyy" -- more song styling, and finally, the other shoe drops,
"do the birds have to die?"
That was the whole entire song, even though it went on for a few more minutes.
Tonight I was listening to singer/songwriter/guy with guitar vids, and that gentle, avian-loving simpleton came to mind. Bless him, wherever he may be today.
* - play roleplaying games such as D&D, GURPS, Shadowrun, and such
** - Game Master
"I see myself in you. I know you don't want me to."
-- John Daly (not a George but a decent singer/songwriter -- check him out!)