A Dialog: SPB, D&D, Software Development and Mr. F

For new readers of this blog, please read the first post before reading the rest.

The Farmer household during the late 70s was a special place to many people. There are several foci of shared interest that bound a small community together with our family (and left us with ties that are bound for a lifetime.) Some of these are: My sisters, SPB (a text-only space battle game I co-authored), Dungeons and Dragons, and the nascent software development industry. What follows is an email exchange between myself and Howard (Howie) Scheer one of the many lives touched by Frank Richard Farmer.

This dialog is in multiple parts, with each reply posted as comment, Click here to see the entire story on one page.

From: Howard Scheer
Date: 09-03-2004
Subject: Condolences
To: The Farmers

I was very sorry to hear about the passing of your Dad. He was a great guy, and held a very special place in my heart.

I have often looked back at my Life, and thankfully remarked that there were various eras that were very, very special. Of all the great eras I've been lucky enough to experience, without question, the best was the "SPB/D&D" era. And you and your family were instrumental in that era.

I often wonder where I'd be today if it wasn't for SPB and COM. Through those programs, I met some really great people. Not the least of which were you and your Dad.

Me and the guys - John and Dave - really took to your family, and took great pleasure in pulling pranks on you guys. But one of the key reasons we kept coming back was your Dad. No matter how funny any prank we pulled was, he would never laugh. We took this as a PERSONAL challenge, so each time he'd deny us the "ultimate pleasure", we were bound and determined to pull an EVEN BETTER prank so the NEXT TIME we'd make him laugh.

And then he wouldn't laugh at THAT one. So we'd plan one that was EVEN BETTER.

So it became a challenge: How can we make that old Bastard laugh? If we came over as Buddhist (complete with a gong) and he didn't laugh, well then the next time we'd come over with tape recorders at night and play sound effects. If that didn't make him laugh, then we'd come over as the Mafia and try to sell you guys insurance. When THAT didn't make him laugh, the NEXT time we camped on your front lawn as Boy Scouts.

We finally got him to laugh when Dave and I came over with our 9-foot monster costume.

I realize that you probably had a different perspective of him than I did. You were part of the family; I was an outsider. However, I wanted to tell you what I saw, just so maybe you could see another perspective of your Dad.

For me, your Dad was a combination of both a father figure and a good buddy. Someone who was like a Dad, but couldn't get you in trouble, or send you to your room, or make you clean the garage. Someone you could have fun with, but who had the additional wisdom and experience of additional years.

I can remember many times when John or Dave would piss me off, and I'd call your Dad and say I wanted to play SPB. He'd sense I was pissed, ask me what the problem was, and I'd say "Dave." He'd say, "Ah.... 'Nuf said. Let's play." And we'd play and I could forget about Life for a while.

Sometimes you can tell how well loved someone is by how many nicknames they had.

• Mr. F
  
• FRF2
  
• Old Coot
  
• The Geritol Kid
  
• Harry Hobbit
  
• I.R. Pershing
  
• Dick Van Dyke (...we joked that Jim Curley just called him "Dick". HAHAHH!)
  

Sometimes you can tell by how much people imitate them.

• Walking around your house here in Michigan limping by
  never letting our right heel touch the ground (the patented "Mr. F Limp")
  
• Using phrases like "HI GUY", or "AAAYYYYYEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!", or "U TURKEY", or "TEE HEE".
  
• Speaking in three-syllable phrases and using horrible abbreviations for them when sending email, like "U TURKEY", "TIME 2 P", "NOW U DIE", "R U THERE?"
  

Or by how much you tease them.

• Putting a "For Sale" sign on your front lawn.
  
• Coming over as Buddhists.
  
• The Antonionionio's (our Mafia hit).
  
• Going up to Lakeside, near the skating rink, in July, getting some snow that they scraped off the rink, and coming over and attacking you guys with snowballs...in the middle of July. (Heh, heh....so you wouldn't have any ammo....)
  
• The 1st Annual Boy Scout Labor Day Jamboree.
  
• Playing sound effects outside your windows one night (When your Dad figured out it was us, he limped to the front door, calmly leaned out, non-chalantly said "ASSSSSSSSSS HOLESSSSSSSSSSSS!" in a deep, loud voice, and then simply went back inside and sat down.).
  
• Tons of stuff we did over the computer to annoy and tease all of you guys....
  
• Loading your cigarettes (boy....THAT ONE pissed your Dad off....).
  
• Adding "items" to the shopping lists on the white board in your kitchen.
  
• Stopping by your house, and unexpectedly taking your folks out to dinner one night ('cause they'd fed us so many times).
  
• The 9-foot monster costume.
  
• Dave took a D&D lead figure of a hobbit, and carved it and painted it to look like your Dad...complete with an SPB t-shirt, so he'd have a Harry Hobbit lead figure.
  
• Dave and I driving from Sacramento to Novato unannounced, dressed as D&D players, and invading your folk's apartment (without knocking....you NEVER knocked when you went over the Farmers' house!) like we were exploring a dungeon.
  
• When your Dad had his leg amputated, sending him a plaque with a Romulan ship on it with one engine missing and a wooden peg in it's place, which all the guys signed (...John wrote "Well, it never worked right anyway." - HAHAHAH!!).
  

Or how many stories people tell about them.

Is there any question on the number of stories?!

Do you have any idea how many people you guys never met that know of "The Farmers"? HA! You'd be amazed.... Every prank I listed above has been told and retold countless times. There are many, many people who know of this phantom character with a salt-and-pepper beard, vaguely looking like Dick Van Dyke, wearing cut-off blue-jean shorts and an SPB t-shirt, who walks with a exaggerated limp, and says "AAAYYEEEEEEEE!!!!!", or "ASSSSSSS HOLESSSSSSSSS!!!!" a lot.

If the length of the lists above are any indication, you Dad was genuinely loved.

Time moves on, regardless of how much we try not to notice.

Things change.

Eras end. It's a fact of Life, and a sad one. We often try to cling to the good times of the past, and can do so by reminiscing with the
people we spent those time with.

Sadly, one special link to that wonderful past is now gone.

Anyway, the bottom line is there are a number of people who, like me, really miss your Dad, and have you and your sisters and your Mom in our thoughts and prayers.

Howie
---
All contact lost with I.R. Pershing.
(sad sigh......)


[The dialog continues in the comments section.]

1975-1981 Life Lessons from the House with an Unlocked Door

For new readers of this blog, please read the first post before reading the rest.

From Gary Dorband:

A great man once told me "Never lose your inner child because the day that you do is the day that you grow old."

I have had the opportunity to repeat that sentence a few times during conversation over the years.

One particular instance stands out. A few years ago I was having a conversation with a fellow that I worked with and I told him those words- the look in his eye was profound. A week or so later on a Monday morning an apprentice, that worked for me at the time, came in with an unusually happy look in his eye. When I made a comment to him about his obviously happy demeanor, he told me of his very inspiring Sunday morning church service that was entirely about not "losing your inner child." What I did not know is that the person that I told this to was a deacon at his church and he had repeated these words to his pastor who, in turn, created an entire service around it.

Great words from a great man continue to do great things.

I have unfortunately missed my opportunity to tell Mr. F a few things -another important lesson here - that I have always needed to say to him in person.
As to not miss another opportunity, an open letter to Mr. F:

Mr. Farmer,

First off, I am doing fine!! I am married to a wonderful girl and have an awesome daughter, you would like them both. I am currently a system administrator at a tool and die shop in Detroit which happens to be only a mile or two away from Pershing High School [Frank's High School]. Life has been very good to me so far. I am sorry that I lost contact with you and the gang, have tried over the years to find someway to get in touch and until just recently was unsuccessful. Really, I just needed to let you know that I am ok. There are a few things that you have given me that I have not been able to thank you for.

First off, thanks for telling me that I was a terrible SPB player....hehehe....but more importantly for taking me under your wing and teaching me that I am capable of doing whatever it is I set my mind to do. You saw something in me that I never knew existed - confidence and ability - as of today there has yet to be a hill to high or a challenge to great. Your confidence in me has fueled a great part of my life.

You accepted me as I was into your home, your family, your heart - the gift here is that there is always room for one more - a fairly common saying in my home today.

"The House"....the people the place the events.....from the day I walked in, literally just walked in as I was instructed not to knock, I have never felt so welcome and accepted. The cast of characters were extraordinary, the best of the best, I am so honored and humbled to be associated with people like this. There was an online chat last night in your honor and if you didn't know better you would swear we were all standing in your kitchen 20 years ago. One of things that I heard last night was the next generation carrying on this great tradition.

And of course the lesson of not losing my inner child....I am still known to get wide eyed "WOW that was cool!".....it is funny as I can see your face and hear your voice as I type this. There was talk last night on the "selling ice cubes to Eskimos". It did not occur to me until that moment that was also a gift. That wide eyed excited attitude when selling a new idea....there is a certain gleam that I get in my eye.....I don't know if it is just a feeling or if anyone else can actually notice it....just last night I realized that gleam is you....

Oh and last but not least, thanks for letting me sleep with your oldest daughter after the new years eve party. I was fully dressed and passed out on the floor but I usually don't tell that part of the story.....hahaha.....oh, and thanks for waking me up for work and making coffee the next morning.....

Thank you for all that you have done for me, your impact on my life goes far beyond the words. I will continue to use all that you have taught me and will continue to hold your memory near my heart. I look forward to the day that we can fly together again.

Long Live the Pershing!
Gary, I.R. Andromeda

Goodbye Dad

Frank Richard Farmer was my father.

Today would have been his 64th birthday, if he hadn't passed away of lung cancer last summer.

He is survived by my two sisters, myself, and our mother along with many others who loved him dearly.

I'll write more about my father later, but I wanted to start this blog as a memorial to the most important man in my life. I want to encourage people to send me contributions of text, drawings, pictures, audio files for sharing on this blog, where a memory of Frank will live forever. Of course, all posts will be open for comments by the public.

He touched many lives, and several events are planned for the coming days:

1. Today 7:30pm EST a live memorial chat using Teamspeak
2. Ad-Hoc: Matt Decker is hosting an SPB server for old-times sake
3. Saturday is a special online memorial adventure hosted by Joe Simko and Howie Scheer

If you knew Frank, and any of this is news to you, just drop me a line via email and I'll send you the details.

randy.farmer [at] pobox [dot] com