Adventures with Geannii

  Stardew Valley Music Has Been Turned Into a Symphony Stardew Valley is this cozy little farming game where people willingly spend hundreds of hours watering pixelated turnips like they’re running a vegetable empire. They chop trees, smash rocks, attend festivals where everyone pretends to be normal, and try not to collapse from exhaustion before the sun sets at 6 p.m. Too stressful for me. I retired after my character nearly died because I was running late from a festival and forgot to check the time. And now someone—some visionary or possibly a madman—decided to turn this into a symphony. A full orchestra. Violins. Cellos. French horns. Suddenly my little pixel farm feels very serious. But the real question haunting me was: who exactly attends a Stardew Valley symphony? Gamers, presumably. Do they know symphonies traditionally involve formalwear, good posture, and pretending you understand what the conductor is doing with his little stick? Or do they arrive in pajama pants and h...

 Robin, my daughter-in-love, invited me to join them and her brothers for the Stardew Valley Symphony. I’ve never been to a symphony before. I had questions — lots of questions. In my mind, a symphony is pure elegance: white-gloved ushers guiding guests to velvet seats, soft golden lighting warming the room, formal gowns and tuxedos drifting through the aisles, and music that promises sophistication before the first note even plays. BUT — and I do mean a big but — these are gamers. Do they know what a real symphony is? Do I know what a real one is?   I’d seen symphonies on television and once attended a very proper choir performance in Cincinnati. We dressed nicely for that. Shoes were involved. So naturally, I wondered if we should shop. They arrived all the way from Hobbs, New Mexico, and we all met at their grandmother Shirley’s house. The kids didn’t even take time to unload at the motel — they were starving, we were starving, everybody was starving. “Just follow me to Hef...