The lucky friend
Jan. 3rd, 2005 01:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greybetaWhat’s the definition of lucky? Some might say winning on double zero in roulette. Others think its beating pocket aces with two-seven in Texas hold ‘em. On the other hand, you might just be a second grader lining up to walk across the street. Two people cut in front of you. A few seconds later a semi slams into them full force, killing them. It’s a good thing you stayed where you were.
And that describes my good friend, Andrew James Riester. Andy and first met at this math competition for sixth graders. Our prospective junior high was looking for talented math students for their MathCOUNTS program. Top two got some special Lego prizes. I barely edged him out for second place. He and I turned out to be two of the better products out of that program. However, he never was able to go to the important competitions because he always had some random conflict to keep him away (we might have been able to win state our eighth grade year if he could have come to regionals and state).
Our friendship was forged in Mrs. Smith’s GATE (Gifted and Talented Education) Class in junior high. We remember this class vividly because it was one of the most insane classes ever. Secretly, “gifted” classes are supposed to be blanket A’s that reward creativity. Mrs. Smith didn’t believe in that line of reasoning. She made us do all this inane stuff, excusing it all with “because you’re GATE students”. Riest and I said to heck with that and teamed up on everything. Riest is yet another nickname that just kind of stuck, although I’ve been known to call him Andyman.
Come to think of it, he’s the only one of my high school crew whose parents divorced and remarried other people. In that regard he has unique perspectives on life.
Bespectacled Riest was the guy who introduced me to tournament level Magic. Before, I would just scrum together decks with whatever cards I had. Then I went to the local comic shop where I got my butt handed to me several times by decks that were really good. I slowly learned the ways of casting spells, timing triggers, and all the other good stuff to become a decent player. Now I’m the one who’s gathering the group to go to the bigger tournaments. Out of all the people on my Magic team, he stands out as the one with the most innate skill. He could pick up any deck and understand how to play it.
Warcraft II and Starcraft provided a lot of good memories. There was a time when our skill levels were equal and our games were fun. Then he got too quick for me as he perfected the rush strategy.
Oh yes, I can never forget the nights we spent playing Xenogears. Finding Billy was kind of hard. We fell asleep once in the middle of a conversation.
In high school he displayed some of his other abilities. He had a pretty good bass voice in the choir. In drama, he landed such prestigious roles as the Mayor of Munchkin City, Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, and one of the children in the Sound of Music. His rendition of The Three Little Pigs for storytelling was a welcome addition to the speech team. He even joined me for a few of my more magnificent performances in Quiz Bowl.
We had one class together in high school. Senior level AP English with the slavedriver Mrs. Kropp. We cried and cried and cried but our writing skills amazingly improved during that year.
We would have made awesome roommates…if we had gone to the same school. He got screwed on the chance to become a National Merit Finalist because our counselors didn’t do a great job of stressing how important that PSAT was. He would have gone to Tulsa if it wasn’t so cost prohibitive for him to. He ended up going to his dad’s alma mater, Arkansas. Such a pity.
His mathematical and spatial skills are suited for biological engineering. He’s quite the genius in that aspect.
It’s been said of him that he doesn’t let things faze him. It’s true. The world could be burning and he could shrug it off.
And he’s hilarious to be around. I do believe I’ve picked up his habit of raising my hands up and asking “But why would you do that, why would somebody do that?”
If the army man Maph appeals to my right and illogical side, then the lucky man Riest appeals to my left and logical side.
And that describes my good friend, Andrew James Riester. Andy and first met at this math competition for sixth graders. Our prospective junior high was looking for talented math students for their MathCOUNTS program. Top two got some special Lego prizes. I barely edged him out for second place. He and I turned out to be two of the better products out of that program. However, he never was able to go to the important competitions because he always had some random conflict to keep him away (we might have been able to win state our eighth grade year if he could have come to regionals and state).
Our friendship was forged in Mrs. Smith’s GATE (Gifted and Talented Education) Class in junior high. We remember this class vividly because it was one of the most insane classes ever. Secretly, “gifted” classes are supposed to be blanket A’s that reward creativity. Mrs. Smith didn’t believe in that line of reasoning. She made us do all this inane stuff, excusing it all with “because you’re GATE students”. Riest and I said to heck with that and teamed up on everything. Riest is yet another nickname that just kind of stuck, although I’ve been known to call him Andyman.
Come to think of it, he’s the only one of my high school crew whose parents divorced and remarried other people. In that regard he has unique perspectives on life.
Bespectacled Riest was the guy who introduced me to tournament level Magic. Before, I would just scrum together decks with whatever cards I had. Then I went to the local comic shop where I got my butt handed to me several times by decks that were really good. I slowly learned the ways of casting spells, timing triggers, and all the other good stuff to become a decent player. Now I’m the one who’s gathering the group to go to the bigger tournaments. Out of all the people on my Magic team, he stands out as the one with the most innate skill. He could pick up any deck and understand how to play it.
Warcraft II and Starcraft provided a lot of good memories. There was a time when our skill levels were equal and our games were fun. Then he got too quick for me as he perfected the rush strategy.
Oh yes, I can never forget the nights we spent playing Xenogears. Finding Billy was kind of hard. We fell asleep once in the middle of a conversation.
In high school he displayed some of his other abilities. He had a pretty good bass voice in the choir. In drama, he landed such prestigious roles as the Mayor of Munchkin City, Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, and one of the children in the Sound of Music. His rendition of The Three Little Pigs for storytelling was a welcome addition to the speech team. He even joined me for a few of my more magnificent performances in Quiz Bowl.
We had one class together in high school. Senior level AP English with the slavedriver Mrs. Kropp. We cried and cried and cried but our writing skills amazingly improved during that year.
We would have made awesome roommates…if we had gone to the same school. He got screwed on the chance to become a National Merit Finalist because our counselors didn’t do a great job of stressing how important that PSAT was. He would have gone to Tulsa if it wasn’t so cost prohibitive for him to. He ended up going to his dad’s alma mater, Arkansas. Such a pity.
His mathematical and spatial skills are suited for biological engineering. He’s quite the genius in that aspect.
It’s been said of him that he doesn’t let things faze him. It’s true. The world could be burning and he could shrug it off.
And he’s hilarious to be around. I do believe I’ve picked up his habit of raising my hands up and asking “But why would you do that, why would somebody do that?”
If the army man Maph appeals to my right and illogical side, then the lucky man Riest appeals to my left and logical side.
