You are Old, Loren Wiseman poem.
What is the Color of Jumpspace?
by Doug Berry
(To: Piano Man by Billy Joel)
The convention opens its doors
There's a gamer walking up to me
Followed by a few dozen more
He says, "Hey man, I've got me a character
I'm sure you'll agree that he rules
But my GM's no fun, took my Ancient-built guns
And the rest of the players are fools"
La la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Chorus:
What is the color of jump space?
Is it a green or a blue?
Well we can't find the answer in canon
And so now we're coming to you
They come to me babbling questions,
For which no answers exist
Do the Aslan wear shoes? Do K'kree bleat or moo?
Does Duke Norris speak with a lisp?
They say, "We have oh so many questions
That we can't figure out on our own
Since you are the one who wrote Traveller
You owe us all that you know"
Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
I get asked about the sex life of Hivers
About the damn Santa Claus hat
And about Imperial Navy, is it coming out maybe?
Will I sign this young woman's back
Teenagers tell me my business
And they haven't been bathed in a year
Yes, it's part of this mad gaming business
But it's a business that I hold so dear
(Chorus)
It's the usual mob at a game con
And the sales staff gives me a smile
'Cause they know that it's me they've been comin' to see
To pick out my brains for a while
And the dealer room looks like a carnival
TMLers, they bring me my beer
And the crowds never end, questions again and again
And there's no place better than here!
Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
(Chorus)
Lyrics ©2003, Doug Berry, used with permission.
Background
This came about when I mentioned on the Traveller Mailing List that I had been inspired to write a filk about the things gaming pros go through at conventions. I posted a couple of lines, some subject matter, and announced that I had made no progress. My few scribblings inspired Traveller fan, TML regular, and filker Doug Berry, who produced the above almost instantly (he said it took him 20 minutes), and I post it here with his kind permission. It pretty much somes up my feelings, especially the last line: “And there's no place better than here!” The chorus comes from the fact that I once, at a large gaming convention, received a call at 3:00 AM from a fan (who was evidently in the midst of running a game) asking “What does jumpspace look like . . . what color is it?” Since I had only just managed to get to sleep by that time, my reaction was less than completely polite. Not all the experiences in the song happened to me . . . Doug embroidered my anecdotes a bit.
I changed only one thing from Doug's original composition — the title was originally “Loren's Lament,” which I felt gave the wrong impression. I hope Doug doesn't mind.
My friend John M. Ford penned this tribute in response to a contest on the Pyramid discussion boards, where gamers were declaring what type of RPG gaming dinosaur they were, and it was suggested that I was one of the DNA molecules of RP games. Sadly, Mike died last year.
Inspired by the classic poem by Lewis Carroll:
"You Are Old, Loren Wiseman"
-
"You are old, Loren Wiseman," the young fan said,
"And your eyes are no longer acute;
And yet you keep painting these figures of lead --
Do you think, at your age, this should suit?"
"In my youth," Mr. Wiseman replied to the lad,
"I was somewhat put off by the smell;
But now they're all pewter, it isn't half bad,
And the paints are acrylic as well."
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown just the slightest bit stout;
Yet I just saw -Europa- spread out on the floor --
Pray, what do you think you're about?"
"In my youth," said the sage, "as a matter of fact,
"Counters kept all my fingers quite loose;
I expend little energy moving a stack --
And I've overrun Moscow, you goose."
"You are aged," said the kid, "and your jaws will not do
For a heavy and strenuous diet;
Yet you finished your steak -- and you finished mine too!
I'm astonished you even would try it."
"In my youth," said old Loren, "I discovered that beer
Is a virtuous, wondrous elixir
When consumed in just quantities, year after year
It's the perfect solution and fixer."
"You are old," said the brat; "and it hardly could be
That your spirits are still in high season;
Yet attractive young ladies come sit on your knee --
What can be the rhyme or the reason?"
"I have answered three questions, and you should be off,"
Said the Gamer; "now turn round and bustle!
Tapping cards on the table has made you go soft,
You should work on a different muscle!"
