Servo 12:2
Servo 12:2
We toiled for what seemed endless hours. And when finished, there were two walls about three feet high, ten feet long, and a foot or so thick. They were spaced about twenty feet apart. During our labors, Dagwood explained the process of a snowball fight. Apparently we were to make dozens—no, hundreds of baseball-sized snow balls and keep them behind the wall. Our opponent would do the same—although I’m not sure who the opponent would be. Upon a signal, we were supposed to throw the balls at our opponent, aiming to strike them. The rest of the rules were totally ambiguous. I made one last snowball and placed it on the growing pile. “Dagwood?”“Yeah?”“Just who is our opponent?”“Oh, tomorrow Otto will be coming over. He’s your opponent.”“Just him?”“Well, I guess to be fair, him and me.”“So, Rory and I will be trying to hit you and Otto?”“Yup!”“And this is fun?”“You bet!”I looked at the massive snow-works we’d built. “And this was supposed to be fun making these big walls?”“It’s part of the game. If we’re lucky, they’ll freeze overnight and be harder in the morning.”“For what purpose?”“Protecting against the snowballs.”“Ah.”Dagwood trotted behind the other wall and picked up a snowball. “The name of the game is not to get hit.” He cranked his arm back and let fly. The snowball headed right for me. With what little instinctive reflexes I had, I ducked, letting the clod of snow sail right over my head. Dagwood chortled. “There ya go! Now throw one at me!”I picked up a ball and cupped it in my hands, firming the snow a bit more. Taking aim, I reared back and threw it with all my might. It wasn’t enough. The wad of frozen precipitation impacted the berm a few inches from the top. Dagwood slapped his thigh and guffawed loudly.Now angered at my ineptness, I grabbed another and let fly. This one managed to hit him square in the chest. His laughter stopped as he was surprised by my actions. “Hey, you hit me!”“Isn’t that the object of the game?” I folded my arms smugly.“Well, yeah. But after that first one—”“What?”“You threw like a girl!”“Might I remind you that I have never thrown a snowball before.”“It’s just the same as throwing a ball, silly!”Before either of us could say anything, Rory launched a snowball at Dagwood. It flew right past him. My friend returned fire. Rory took a hit in the right shoulder. I laughed, finding it amusing to see my brother spitting out snow that had splattered all over him. Soon, volleys of snowballs were flying back and forth. The sound of laughter filled the area. Yes, we were having fun. All the hours in the freezing cold building everything, and now we were having fun. I peered above our wall and saw Grandpa looking out the window at us. It was hard to tell, but I think I saw a smile on his face. By late afternoon, our massed piles of snowballs had been exhausted, and so were we. All of us had laughed so much, it felt good. Dagwood came from his battlement and joined us in reloading our stock. “Did you have fun?” he asked.I nodded. “Yes.”“See, you don’t need computers to have fun.”“No, I suppose you don’t.”“How goes the work on the bot?”“Well, I’m having problems with the memory core.”“Maybe Otto can take a look when he comes over.”“I’d like that. He has more experience with these older bots. Dad and I used to work on the newest models available. Old technology is a stumbling block to me.” “I’m sure Otto can figure it out.”
We toiled for what seemed endless hours. And when finished, there were two walls about three feet high, ten feet long, and a foot or so thick. They were spaced about twenty feet apart. During our labors, Dagwood explained the process of a snowball fight. Apparently we were to make dozens—no, hundreds of baseball-sized snow balls and keep them behind the wall. Our opponent would do the same—although I’m not sure who the opponent would be. Upon a signal, we were supposed to throw the balls at our opponent, aiming to strike them. The rest of the rules were totally ambiguous. I made one last snowball and placed it on the growing pile. “Dagwood?”“Yeah?”“Just who is our opponent?”“Oh, tomorrow Otto will be coming over. He’s your opponent.”“Just him?”“Well, I guess to be fair, him and me.”“So, Rory and I will be trying to hit you and Otto?”“Yup!”“And this is fun?”“You bet!”I looked at the massive snow-works we’d built. “And this was supposed to be fun making these big walls?”“It’s part of the game. If we’re lucky, they’ll freeze overnight and be harder in the morning.”“For what purpose?”“Protecting against the snowballs.”“Ah.”Dagwood trotted behind the other wall and picked up a snowball. “The name of the game is not to get hit.” He cranked his arm back and let fly. The snowball headed right for me. With what little instinctive reflexes I had, I ducked, letting the clod of snow sail right over my head. Dagwood chortled. “There ya go! Now throw one at me!”I picked up a ball and cupped it in my hands, firming the snow a bit more. Taking aim, I reared back and threw it with all my might. It wasn’t enough. The wad of frozen precipitation impacted the berm a few inches from the top. Dagwood slapped his thigh and guffawed loudly.Now angered at my ineptness, I grabbed another and let fly. This one managed to hit him square in the chest. His laughter stopped as he was surprised by my actions. “Hey, you hit me!”“Isn’t that the object of the game?” I folded my arms smugly.“Well, yeah. But after that first one—”“What?”“You threw like a girl!”“Might I remind you that I have never thrown a snowball before.”“It’s just the same as throwing a ball, silly!”Before either of us could say anything, Rory launched a snowball at Dagwood. It flew right past him. My friend returned fire. Rory took a hit in the right shoulder. I laughed, finding it amusing to see my brother spitting out snow that had splattered all over him. Soon, volleys of snowballs were flying back and forth. The sound of laughter filled the area. Yes, we were having fun. All the hours in the freezing cold building everything, and now we were having fun. I peered above our wall and saw Grandpa looking out the window at us. It was hard to tell, but I think I saw a smile on his face. By late afternoon, our massed piles of snowballs had been exhausted, and so were we. All of us had laughed so much, it felt good. Dagwood came from his battlement and joined us in reloading our stock. “Did you have fun?” he asked.I nodded. “Yes.”“See, you don’t need computers to have fun.”“No, I suppose you don’t.”“How goes the work on the bot?”“Well, I’m having problems with the memory core.”“Maybe Otto can take a look when he comes over.”“I’d like that. He has more experience with these older bots. Dad and I used to work on the newest models available. Old technology is a stumbling block to me.” “I’m sure Otto can figure it out.”
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