Retrospective Tribute: Steve Reed
Mar. 3rd, 2007 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seawaspFor some reason, today I found myself remembering a lot about one of the men who was most influential in my life. His name was Steven J. Reed, or Steve Reed. It occurred to me that while I've mentioned him from time to time, I never did write down a full tribute to him.
Steve was my friend -- one of my first "older" friends, someone significantly older than I was who treated me as a full equal (he was about 10 years older than me). From a social point of view, Steve would never impress anyone. He was very intelligent, but never ended up in a job or position that would gain much respect from many people. But what he was -- or what he at least allowed most people to see -- was generally cheerful, kind, clever, and capable at what needed to be done. He was tall (about 6'2"), usually on the heavy side, dark haired -- with the kind of black hair that means that you look like you have five o'clock shadow about three minutes after shaving.
He was my roommate -- along with Ed Lord (HI ED!) in my first home away from home. In many ways that was a classic bachelor's pad, with a Geek Twist; RPGing every night, eating very unhealthy foods, etc. But Steve Reed also taught me a lot, without my ever really thinking about it. Not that other people didn't -- and in fact if I had not been raised by people who WERE tolerant and reasonably open-minded, I couldn't have learned much from him or anyone else -- but his example taught me a lot of things, some big, some small.
Steve showed me that it's okay to be happy with stuff that other people wouldn't be. Steve, as I said, never became the CEO of a big company, never became a famous author, never got a high-paying professional job. But he still had FUN. He might be living in a small apartment and saving only a little here and there, but that wasn't a good reason to curse at life. It was a good reason to get as much fun out of the life he had.
Steve was a hell of a RPGer, and I learned a lot of things about gaming -- and, because it's so intimately connected in my case, about writing -- from Steve. He first demonstrated that you could run games on power levels that made other people gag, and still have STORIES. He taught me that a good GM notices when the players aren't happy, and fixes the game without the players even realizing that he's changed anything directly. He pushed me into learning how to really roleplay -- because HE did. He also showed me that the games were really about the people, not about the Stuff -- and it wasn't because he didn't appreciate the Cool Stuff. He could be a quite unashamed munchkin at times, in terms of the incredibly powerful characters he'd play (two of them enshrined on Usenet in my "Most Munchkin Party" thread of some years ago), but he played them as CHARACTERS -- people with very individual personalities, needs, desires, and weaknesses.
He had quite a book collection for someone who usually had very limited funds; it was through his collection that I first walked in Amber, flew with the dragons of Pern, found out about the Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, and many other books. He also encouraged me to build my own world, and helped me realize that the most important thing I could do in that world was to make it LIVE -- as a universe that made its own form of sense. The stories would take care of themselves if the world was real.
Steve also eventually got married to a very nice girl named Laura (about my own age) and had a daughter. And then -- during a time when I had lost track of him -- he suddenly passed away, dying in front of his own little girl, at an age when most guys aren't even seriously considering retirement. I don't even know exactly what day or year. I just know that one day I found out he was gone.
I miss Steve. The memory that triggered my reminisces was recalling the climactic moment of a V&V campaign, where my character -- Thor, God of Thunder -- had been separated from Mjolnir for months (thus, as this was a "Thor" of the original Marvel type, reducing him to his mortal guise), the great Hammer cast into some unknown dimension by my archenemy, the extradimensional god Valameon. But with the aid of the other heroes in the Enforcers, eventually we tracked down the Hammer, broke through the defenses around it, and slew or drove off the aliens who guarded it... and then, standing at the very Nexus of time and space, I reclaimed Mjolnir and the power of the Thunder God, with the single bellow of "VALAMEON!!!" that echoed across the universe...
... and after a tiny pause, in which all reality seemed to hold its breath, a single distant voice was heard: "Oh, SHIT."
Drama and comedy compressed to a perfect single gaming moment.
I wish Steve could have met my kids. Could have read my books. Could have seen that yeah, I did get a real life.
I'm glad I met him. The world is poorer for not having him.
I would like to believe there is an afterlife, because then he might be reading this.
Thanks, Steve.
Steve was my friend -- one of my first "older" friends, someone significantly older than I was who treated me as a full equal (he was about 10 years older than me). From a social point of view, Steve would never impress anyone. He was very intelligent, but never ended up in a job or position that would gain much respect from many people. But what he was -- or what he at least allowed most people to see -- was generally cheerful, kind, clever, and capable at what needed to be done. He was tall (about 6'2"), usually on the heavy side, dark haired -- with the kind of black hair that means that you look like you have five o'clock shadow about three minutes after shaving.
He was my roommate -- along with Ed Lord (HI ED!) in my first home away from home. In many ways that was a classic bachelor's pad, with a Geek Twist; RPGing every night, eating very unhealthy foods, etc. But Steve Reed also taught me a lot, without my ever really thinking about it. Not that other people didn't -- and in fact if I had not been raised by people who WERE tolerant and reasonably open-minded, I couldn't have learned much from him or anyone else -- but his example taught me a lot of things, some big, some small.
Steve showed me that it's okay to be happy with stuff that other people wouldn't be. Steve, as I said, never became the CEO of a big company, never became a famous author, never got a high-paying professional job. But he still had FUN. He might be living in a small apartment and saving only a little here and there, but that wasn't a good reason to curse at life. It was a good reason to get as much fun out of the life he had.
Steve was a hell of a RPGer, and I learned a lot of things about gaming -- and, because it's so intimately connected in my case, about writing -- from Steve. He first demonstrated that you could run games on power levels that made other people gag, and still have STORIES. He taught me that a good GM notices when the players aren't happy, and fixes the game without the players even realizing that he's changed anything directly. He pushed me into learning how to really roleplay -- because HE did. He also showed me that the games were really about the people, not about the Stuff -- and it wasn't because he didn't appreciate the Cool Stuff. He could be a quite unashamed munchkin at times, in terms of the incredibly powerful characters he'd play (two of them enshrined on Usenet in my "Most Munchkin Party" thread of some years ago), but he played them as CHARACTERS -- people with very individual personalities, needs, desires, and weaknesses.
He had quite a book collection for someone who usually had very limited funds; it was through his collection that I first walked in Amber, flew with the dragons of Pern, found out about the Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, and many other books. He also encouraged me to build my own world, and helped me realize that the most important thing I could do in that world was to make it LIVE -- as a universe that made its own form of sense. The stories would take care of themselves if the world was real.
Steve also eventually got married to a very nice girl named Laura (about my own age) and had a daughter. And then -- during a time when I had lost track of him -- he suddenly passed away, dying in front of his own little girl, at an age when most guys aren't even seriously considering retirement. I don't even know exactly what day or year. I just know that one day I found out he was gone.
I miss Steve. The memory that triggered my reminisces was recalling the climactic moment of a V&V campaign, where my character -- Thor, God of Thunder -- had been separated from Mjolnir for months (thus, as this was a "Thor" of the original Marvel type, reducing him to his mortal guise), the great Hammer cast into some unknown dimension by my archenemy, the extradimensional god Valameon. But with the aid of the other heroes in the Enforcers, eventually we tracked down the Hammer, broke through the defenses around it, and slew or drove off the aliens who guarded it... and then, standing at the very Nexus of time and space, I reclaimed Mjolnir and the power of the Thunder God, with the single bellow of "VALAMEON!!!" that echoed across the universe...
... and after a tiny pause, in which all reality seemed to hold its breath, a single distant voice was heard: "Oh, SHIT."
Drama and comedy compressed to a perfect single gaming moment.
I wish Steve could have met my kids. Could have read my books. Could have seen that yeah, I did get a real life.
I'm glad I met him. The world is poorer for not having him.
I would like to believe there is an afterlife, because then he might be reading this.
Thanks, Steve.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 05:08 am (UTC)I was fortunate to have my father's father see me get my black belt, and share one of my favorite last Christmas's with my fathers mother. TO me they have become immortal and a part of me, and like you with Steve, I miss them terribly
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 07:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 12:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 04:28 pm (UTC)If you want to know and don't have a more direct way of finding out, one good place to check is the Social Security Death Index.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-09 09:27 pm (UTC)better rememberance of him then this. I remember that apartment on Eastern
Ave ( the old lady that lifted gruel and ate barbells , lol Mrs Mosher i think her name was) and the games pretty much everynight like you said , and the food?? I don't think any of us had a single healthy meal there , but we sure as hell had fun there. Can you believe its about 26 years already since Steve , You and me were all in there together ???? Steve would've liked your kids and Kathleen too , I know that for sure , my old friend :)
Ed
Hey Ryk
Date: 2007-03-15 01:25 pm (UTC)Re: Hey Ryk
Date: 2007-03-16 02:23 pm (UTC)seawasp
at
sgeinc
dot
com
(that should confuse the auto-email harvesters...)
Memory
Date: 2007-03-21 07:48 pm (UTC)Heh I do confess to raw envy when MY V&V character had trouble fixing a busted sidewalk while others were off doing super things ((till my triple roll power kicked in))