A Real Man

Well it's been a while. Months, even, since I've sent out a newsletter. Hard Reset has really been more of a soft reset, hasn't it? Which honestly doesn't sound as appealing as a newsletter title. So I figured I should probably pick this back up and put the Hard back in Hard Reset. Or the Reset back in at least. It's been very difficult for me to write lately for a lot of reasons that I'll probably write about here at some point. So at the advice of my friend Megan (who runs the amazing Side Quest newsletter which you should subscribe to if you haven't yet), I've decided to try brain dumping in order to get the writing juices (eww) flowing.

The day that I'm writing this happens to be Veteran's Day in the United States. This is always an emotional day for me. I forgot how emotional it was until I made the mistake of posting about it on Bluesky this morning and making myself cry uncontrollably. This is the day I tend to think about my grandfather. He was a World War II veteran who served in the Air Force as a navigator. His plane was shot down, he survived but was taken prisoner and tortured by the Nazis.

I actually think about my grandfather a lot but not for his service as a military officer. Rather for the kind of person he was in my life. He was the kindest, most loving man I have ever met in my life. He loved his country, probably more than anyone I've ever known. He would cry when he'd hear the national anthem at Memorial Day parades. And he'd salute every American flag that passed. As much as he loved his country, he loved his family above all. When I think about him, I remember most strongly his warmth. His kindness. I always wanted to be the kind of person that he was.

I was fortunate to have grown up on the same street, and even the same block as my grandparents. I could walk to their house in less than 20 seconds, and often did, to visit and talk with them. My grandfather—Poppy, we called him—would tell me his war stories sometimes when I'd go see him.

But more often we would talk about computers. He loved telling his war stories, but he loved talking computers and technology even more. He always tried to stay ahead of the curve when it came to consumer electronics. He had so many computers in his house. He was an absolute nerd when it came to them. He also loved computer games. He always had the latest copy of whatever game was out and would often share them with me.

In the early 90s he got heavy into shareware. He would get shareware catalogs in the mail (because this was pre-internet) and would peruse through them, ordering every last copy of every game in them. He would copy them for me so I could try them too. There was one game in particular that he loved and was more excited to share with me than any other.

That game was Wolfenstein 3D. You can probably see where I'm going with this. Normally he would wait until I visited to give me copies of whatever shareware games he had at that time. But I have a distinct memory of him walking down the street to my house with it in his hand. He was walking a lot faster than usual so I could tell he was excited. He handed me the floppy disk, told me to install it and play it immediately, then left with no further words.

The reason he loved this game so much is because in it you are shooting Nazis. And he fucking hated Nazis.

Which is why I believe that he would be beyond saddened to see a new rise in fascism in the world. And he'd be horrified to see it rising up in his own country. The country he nearly died, watched his friends die, and endured endless torture to defend. To defend it from the very same type of fascism that threatened it all those decades ago.

When the election results started coming in I started feeling more and more sick. I knew there was a chance it was going to go the way it did, but I had convinced myself that the message of hope and a brighter future for America was going to win over the vile, hate-filled message of the other side. But it didn't. And while I don't totally understand the reasons why it didn't, given the margins by which the election was won, I can only conclude that it's what this country wants.

That's what makes me feel worst of all. That the country I am living in right now isn't the same country that it was when I was a kid. A country where there was a chance that hope could win an election by a landslide and push progress further. And that whatever country I am in right now isn't where I belong. We had the benefit of having possibly the clearest choice between good and evil than ever in history and we fucked it up. On purpose, seemingly.

And so today I've found myself wondering what my grandfather would do if he were alive to witness this. And just as soon as I started wondering, I knew exactly what he would do. He would be kind. He would be gentle. He would be loving and compassionate. He would talk about computers. He would play Wolfenstein.

And he would fight.