Sorry. Can't let this one pass as just part of the "Cursed Thread". 

Neil Peart, the lyricist and drummer for Rush, passed away on Tuesday - announced on Friday. Geddy, Lee and the rest of his family kept it private for 3 days. A class move to allow Neil's family to grieve in private for at least a little while before the world came crashing in. 

Rush was all about class moves, really - all three of them. Virtuosos, professionals, decent caring human souls all. A true rarity in the business.

I am gutted. Rush is my favorite rock band of all time. They were great from beginning to end. I only saw one show - but it was awesome - I got to see them on their Hold Your Fire tour in 86 (87?).

I was so glad when they finally - FINALLY - got inducted into the Rock and Roll hall of fame in 2013. They were already well-respected by their peers. By the late 90s, Peart was commonly referred to as "The Professor". Not just because of his way with words and lyrics, but because every other drummer in the business could learn something from him. 

He was your favorite drummer's favorite drummer. 

I was semi-gutted when Neal retired from the band - and apparently from drumming - at the end of their last tour in 2015.

Speaking of which. It's a wonder the band didn't die in 1997. When Neil's daughter Selena was killed in a car wreck. His wife died less than a year later of cancer. Neil went on sabbatical. Riding his motorcycle tens of thousands of miles criss-crossing North America trying to make sense of it all and his place in the world. Finally he found his answer. A second love in his life, and a renewed sense of purpose for the band, and he notified Geddy and Alex he was ready to start again. Their next album was released in 2001. As well as a book he wrote called "Ghost Rider" about his travels both physical and emotional. 

I always hoped they might get back together for one last studio album. Even if they never toured.

But drumming DOES take it's toll. He was fighting arthritis. (So was Alex) It's not uncommon for hard-hitting drummers who reach that age. Yeah - no wonder he retired. He'd never accept anything less from himself than absolute perfection - and if he couldn't reach that consistently, it was time to hang it up. Also just being on the road for tours for so long. He wanted to spend more time with his (second) wife and child. And I totally respected that.

Going out on top of your game - well there's an absolute integrity to that.

Neal was always incredibly private. Some fans even thought he was stand-offish. Where Alex and Geddy would willingly entertain the fans gladly. But Neal summed it up - "I cannot pretend a stranger is a long lost friend." He was all about realness and integrity.

Best damn rock drummer ever. And the deepest lyrics master. He also wrote several books beyond Ghost Rider. Which I never got around to reading. I feel obligated to do so now.

We were fortunate to have Rush's music and Neil drove so much of it. And there is SO MUCH OF IT. So many rock musicians and bands only have about a 5-15 year span where they are good before burning out or something else happens.

Rush endured for FORTY-FIVE YEARS. There are 20 albums of original material! About 8-10 Live show albums. Compilations. Videos. 

SO many albums. Every single one of them can be listened to end-to-end and - as far as I'm concerned - not a bad song among them. At their worst - in their very earliest years - they sounded a bit of a Zeppelin knock-off. But then - EVERY band was trying to be the next Zeppelin in the mid-70s.

I think they shook that off when Neil joined them. BOOM. "The Professor" had arrived. And nothing was ever the same again. 

"We are only immortal for a limited time."  I think Neil's immortality may last a little longer than he may have expected. He left a deep mark.

One final note: 

The lyrics of "The Garden"  -  When you read these lyrics. When you listen to this. When you know the context it was written in - the placement of this as the very last song of the very last Rush studio album Clockwork Angels. Well - It simply CAN'T be coincidence. This was Rush's goodbye to their fans. And I can't help but think it was Neil's own personal goodbye. To the fans. To his friends. To his brothers and bandmates. 


THE GARDEN

In this one of many possible worlds, all for the best, or some bizarre test?
It is what it is – and whatever
Time is still the infinite jest

The arrow flies when you dream, the hours tick away – the cells tick away
The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes
The hours tick away – they tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect
So hard to earn, so easily burned
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect

In the rise and the set of the sun
‘Til the stars go spinning – spinning ’round the night
It is what it is – and forever
Each moment a memory in flight

The arrow flies while you breathe, the hours tick away – the cells tick away
The Watchmaker has time up his sleeve
The hours tick away – they tick away

The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect
The way you live, the gifts that you give
In the fullness of time
It’s the only return that you expect

The future disappears into memory
With only a moment between
Forever dwells in that moment
Hope is what remains to be seen

Hey L.A. by Smash Mouth

Originally I intended for the Competitions in this forum to run for about two weeks, then close, after which I'd judge a winner.  And while I tried to do that for the first couple, we really don't have the volume of responses that would make that really the best plan.  And Things have been happening since I started the Competitions that led me to forget or postpone ending the competitions anyway.

So I've decided, every competition is going to remain open to encourage the creative energies of the board members in perpetuity.  Since there was about as much substance to the award for winning a competition as there was to a Marvel No-Prize, I'm sure that no one will be too upset about there no longer being proper winners.

Of course, if there is disagreement, please feel free to let me know.

Competition #5: The Kangaroo Joke

Quote:A kangaroo walks into a bar and orders a vodka martini. The bartender gives the kangaroo his drink and the kangaroo gives him a $10 bill.

The bartender figures kangaroos don't know anything about money and only gives him $2 back in change, then says, "We don't get many kangaroos in here."

The kangaroo says, "And at eight bucks for a martini you're not going to see very many more!" and walks out.

Muck found himself blowing out a breath of relief as the simulator cockpit opened over him. He forced himself to wait until he could vault out to the deck and eye Gamlin.  He was certain how he’d done, but he also knew that the final verdict was Gamlin’s.



“So, how did I do in your eyes, LT?”



Speaking of said third party, though, it looked like Muck had managed to *TOTALLY* break Lieutenant Gamlin Kizakai, his alleged impartial third party, based on Gamlin’s thoroughly ‘gob-smacked’ look at the moment.  Gamlin looked at Muck, then back at the simulator control console, then back to Muck again.



Muck facepalmed for a moment, the tried again.  “Muck to Gamlin… come in Gamlin!”



Gamlin finally showed some sign of recovery as he held up a palm to Muck.  “D-1 copies your traffic.  Wait one.”  Gamlin otherwise ignored him and leaned forward conversing with the rating running the simulator; looking intently at the data thrown on the screen in response to his request.  As much as Muck wanted Gamlin to confirm what he was sure of, Muck was also sure that rattling Gamlin’s chain at this point would work against Muck instead of in his favor; and so forced himself to wait patiently, even though all his time as what any comic title would call a ‘superhero’ had primed him for instant decisions and reactions.  All of those reactions would be wrong at the moment, though.  Gamlin had the final say, to disturb him at the moment just might cause him to rule against him out of pure spite.



Muck could have know just how long he’d waited, but decided against it when Gamlin finally straightened up and shook himself much like a dog would before looking over at Muck.



“When I was a flight cadet back on Mars, my initial instructor was Milia Jenius. She told me I needed to become one with my mecha, to know everything it was telling me.  This data says you’ve surpassed me in the ship I have the most flight hours in, even though this should be the first time you’ve been in its cockpit?”



“Hell, LT.  Haven’t you figured out I cheat yet?”



“So, your NOT qualified to pilot a VF-17?”



“Oh, I’d say I am.  But the particulars here are not for enlisted ears, LT,” Muck pointed out with a nod at the rating staring at both of them.  “Perhaps someplace where there aren’t little pitchers with big ears?”



Gamlin nodded, grabbing Muck by the arm and pointing the two of them to the hatch.  “I know a place,” he assured, before looking behind the pair.  “Dismissed, sergeant.  I get word you said anything to anyone other than Cap’n Jenius…”



“Sir, understood sir!”



* * * * * * *



Muck sighed after finishing a long draft of the beer in his hand, setting it down on the table between he and Gamlin Kizakai, gazing out the armored glass into deep space.



“So.  Your wondering how the heck I am so proficient as a pilot, Kizakai.  Both of the mark 17 you tested me on as well as my own claim I am, or was, fully qualified in the VF-01, right?”



“Well, that and your claim you cheated, Thunders.”



“Well, Gamlin, that depends on how one defines cheating.  How old do I look to you?”



Gamlin blew out a long breath and contemplated the level of beer in his mug; sadly there was too much left in it to try and use the excuse of ordering a new one as a delaying tactic.



“Somewhere in your late twenties, early thirties, like myself,” Gamlin admitted, to be rewarded by a fairly impressive snort of liquids out of Thunders nose, followed by Muck cursing about how having done so really HURT!



“Add a hundred years of living, and four other fica to that estimate, Kizakai.”



“WHAT?”



“Patience, my Padawan.  You are about to hear all about it as long as you keep seated and listen; well… assuming you can get that cute barmaid to bring us another round.”



* * * * * * *



“You realize if a pilot or enlisted told me a story like that I’d send him to the brig for over embellishing his sea story?” Gamlin sighed after hearing Muck’s tale. (1)



Muck nodded.  “And yet, no shit, there I was;” he confirmed, hoisting his drink in the traditional gesture for a toast.



“How the explitives deleted are you still alive?”



“DamnifIknow, Kizakai.”



“But you LIVED it.  How can you NOT know???”



“Kind of my point Kizakai.  I LIVED it.  Things happened way to fast to really get how it was I made it through at times.  Sure, the little things I could probably remember, but breaking down just how I managed to dodge each and every attack during the crazy moments?  I’d argue YOU were the crazy one, Mate.  All I really remember is being expletives deleted glad I was still alive when the dust settled.”

At 4:24 am (PR time) a 6.7 magnitude earthquake struck the southwest of the island.

My family is ok, but there is plenty of damage to roads, buildings and power company.

Please have them in your thoughts prayers today.

https://forums.homecomingservers.com/top...29th-2020/

Just tossing this up here for folks whom are interested in running WST's and need to know what is up each week.

Muck found himself blowing out a breath of relief as the simulator cockpit opened over him. He forced himself to wait until he could vault out to the deck and eye Gamlin.  He was certain how he’d done, but he also knew that the final verdict was that of a third party from outside the engagement simulation.

“So, how did I do in your eyes, LT?”

Speaking of said third party, though, it looked like Muck had managed to *TOTALLY* break Lieutenant Gamlin Kizakai, his alleged impartial third party based on Gamlin’s thoroughly ‘gob-smacked’ look at the moment.  Gamlin looked at Muck, then back at the simulator control console, then back to Muck again.

Muck facepalmed for a moment, the tried again.  “Muck to Gamlin… come in Gamlin!”

Gamlin finally showed some sign of recovery as he held up a palm to Muck.  “D-1 copies your traffic.  Wait one.”  Gamlin otherwise ignored him and leaned forward conversing with the rating running the simulator; looking intently at the data thrown on the screen in response to his request.  As much as Muck wanted Gamlin to confirm what he was sure of, Muck was also sure that rattling Gamlin’s chain at this point would work against him instead of in his favor; and so forced himself to wait patiently, even though all his time as what any comic title would call a ‘superhero’ had primed him for instant decisions and reactions.  All of those reactions would be wrong at the moment, though.  Gamlin had the final say, to disturb him at the moment just might cause him to rule against him out of pure spite.

Muck could have know just how long he’d waited, but decided against it when Gamlin finally straightend up and shook himself much like a dog would before looking over at Muck.

“When I was a flight cadet back on Mars, my initial instructor was Milia Jenius. She told me I needed to become one with my mecha, to know everything it was telling me.  This data says you’ve surpassed me in the ship I have the most flight hours in, even though this should be the first time you’ve been in its cockpit?”

“Hell, LT.  Haven’t you figured out I cheat yet?”

“So, your NOT qualified to pilot a VF-17?”

“Oh, I’d say I am.  But the particulars here are not for enlisted ears, LT,” Muck pointed out with a nod at the rating staring at both of them.  “Perhaps someplace where there aren’t little pitchers with big ears?”

Gamlin nodded, grabbing Muck by the arm and pointing the two of them to the hatch.  “I know a place,” he assured, before looking behind the pair.  “Dismissed, sergeant.  I get word you said anything to anyone other than Cap’n Jenius…”

“Sir, understood sir!”

* * * * * * *

My mother passed away this week at 72, having outlived her doctor's prediction by 4 months.

She died from congestive heart failure, surrounded by her children, having survived from her 51st wedding anniversary through the holidays.

The severity of her CHF was essentially a side effect of her long-term dialysis (10 years worth) while waiting for a kidney transplant. And she was number two on the local waiting list for most of it, as her transplant surgeon... was more concerned with his rep and record of perfect surgeries refusing to operate because of her high BMI, which was... a side-effect of why she needed it. She eventually got her transplant at the Jacksonville Mayo Clinic, and her transplant was still working, it was just her heart couldn't pump the fluids where they needed to go.

Just had to vent.

So, I think it was DW2 that used "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurithmics (and one or two covers for different moods) as the GENOM motif - if not, it still fits well enough that this mashup seems suited to call up a version of one of the buma that Doug arranged to get liberated. How helpful the particular individual is feeling and what they can do may be up to a bit of variation, though...


non-embedded

Though it's not the official title, I like to call it "Sweet Dreams of a Seven Nation Army."