History of Odn

I’m currently sitting in a very nice (synonymous with free internet access) Starbucks style cafe inside an Audi Dealership 50 miles from home base. Just far enough that I can feel the survival instincts of travel become more heightened. Worries about work seem to drop away instantly with increased distance. I think if I move farther up north like… oh I dunno.. Maine, that I might reach a temporary plateau of elation never before reached without chemicals (human or otherwise). Still, it’s nice to be free but even nicer knowing there is someplace you can go home to.

Katrina was surprising when it hit us in Miami. I remember standing outside at one point, marveling at the wind, rain and the misty shapes it created as it interacted with our screened patio. At one point, my admiration was tinged with fear as increasingly insistent guts strained the lightweight metallic screen frame. Parr was the first to recommend a hasty retreat which I was myself contemplating. Perhaps watching endless Rambo, James Bond and Conan movies would have kept me out there without her influence.

I’ve always considered myself a “wind” elemental. Parr, being the complementary person considers herself “water”. Each one is vital for life but only when they are together does life truly prosper. It’s not some earthen religion or new-age belief, just a wonderful imagery for my minds eye. I can easily see myself dressed in a Nordic theme on a wind swept cliff. The wind racing through my long beard as I stare longingly at my ocean lover below.

Hmm, speaking of… at some point I stopped changing my handle. Originally in the BBS days (remember modems kids? No! Not DSL!) I seemed to change my handle every week. Of the many names I remember, Spock, Captain Kirk, Spawn come to mind. While I still love Spock and Kirk I don’t think I could every associate with Spawn anymore. My teenage self didn’t even understand the comic that well, I just latched on to the anger of the character. Anger was something real, I could feel it, knew its cold burning touch.

Eventually I got sick of switching handles and thanks to my English teacher… Odn was chosen.

English class was dull for me. More often than not I would space out, letting my imagination wander free while my body slumped lower and lower into my plastic seat. Tiny cascades of pinpricks dotted my wanderings. A signal that my buttocks were about to fall asleep again. A lower slump would usually fix this until my chin was just above desk level. A quick reset to proper posture and then repeat the procedure. That is of course if I didn’t have something interesting to read like a Star Trek novel tucked into the voluminous pages of some spacious english tome.

The teacher caught me quite a few times but I don’t remember anything bad ever happening. I do remember her low cut undies which were always visible through her pants, the smell of coffee and gin (her favorite mixture) and the corresponding build up and break down sessions. You see, she thought I really wrote well. I mean, really well. She would go on and on about my potential which would inspire me to do my homework for once, turn it in and then get immediately reprimanded because what I had created was utter crap. In most cases, she was absolutely right. Part of it was due to laziness and another larger part was due to the distractions of my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t drag out all those issues in this post.

Anyway, one happy part of the english experience was reading beowulf and delving into nordic tales and religion. I was enamored with Norse religion. Here was a fantastic storyline of gods, demons, betrayal, love and most importantly… a sad ending. To me, the thought that it would all be for naught in the end made their existence all the more precious! Plus, the fact that they themselves knew of this fate but continued on anyway showed the strength of their resolve. For me, this was a recipe for life. I myself was going through many hardships with no end in sight. If it took some fictional gods (I was very aware of this fact) to bolster my failing morale then so be it!

My english teacher brought in a bag of runes inside a brown pouch one day. She explained that the casting of runes was used in the olden days to reveal your personality, the future, weather and really anything you could shake a few bones at. She wanted to reveal personalities that day and looked for a few volunteers. While feverently interested, my low self esteem did not let me raise my hand. The english teacher either by chance or shrewd intuition called me to be the third and final student to draw runes. Each person took three runes from the bag placed them on the teachers desk. In all cases but mine, the students quickly picked whatever three they could easily grab, slapped them on the table and went back to their seats. The teacher would transcribe the symbols onto the board, place all the runes back in the bag and call the next student.

When I arrived at the front of the class, my body was shaking slightly with fear. Being the center of attention, for however brief seemed to bring with it all sorts of physical and mental reactions of panic. I remember reaching inside the brown bag, feeling around, earnestly wanting the rune to be truly random. I grasped something that felt right to me and gingerly removed it from the bag. Just before putting it down I sheepishly asked if it was supposed to place the symbol in a certain direction. My teacher replied that I should place it in whatever fashion I thought was right. I carefully placed the first tile down, then repeated the procedure for the second and third and thankfully returned to my seat. The teacher transcribed my runes to the board along with the other two students and proceeded to explain what they meant.

I waited excitedly as she explained to the other students what their personalities were. I don’t remember the exact answers but most of the class seemed to laugh at the answers. When it came time for me I felt as if everything faded away, it was only me and the gypsy in a tent of a circus long forgotten, reading my fortune.

I remember smiling at first, big unabashed genuine smiling. Then more, then so much I felt my facials muscles protest from lack of use. My reading while random seemed to fit me so well. Whether it would be my true personality or the ideal I would strive for did not matter for I was…

The Peace Maker, the Protector and the Warrior. An order I felt most fitting to my style of behavior when faced with difficult situations. A style I still carry with me today and that I feel justifies my third trait. I will go out of my way to make peace, protect those around me but if pushed too far, will do anything to win. Luckily I have not had to go into Warrior mode for what seems like eons now but when I do think about it, I do not see any limits to the things I would do. Tis a scary part of my persona, an animal instinct slightly elevated by modern concepts but something powerful, secreted away that will help in a time of need. This is who I am, this is who I would become. The peace maker, the protector, the warrior, all part of me.

This got me thinking. Who was I? Who did I want to be? What was* my destiny? All these thoughts melded nicely into my understanding of the Norse stories. Of these, my favorite reoccurring character was Odin. I could see myself giving up an eye for knowledge, it was that important to me. So, my new permanent handle became Odin. Over the years I encountered others with this name and modified mine to the shorter Odn. Perfection ever since.

Now you know my origins and because of this have a bit more sway over me. Knowledge is what I have and continue to seek. The only difference between now and then is that now I want to share what I have learned with others.

Odn, like Odin, feels compelled to protect midgard. Each one has their own tactics of course.

* The word “was” seems the most appropriate because I do believe in destiny and since it will happen, has happened, will happen again…

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