Myachi Provides

by Crazy Ivan

By the historical standard of Myachi, we're doing pretty good these days.  None of the Myachi Masters have gotten rich off this thing by any measure, but we're comfortable.  We live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, we eat three squares a day, we have plenty of toys to play with and we can all afford to take a descent vacation once a year or so.

But that wasn't always the case.  Back in the early days we really didn't have any of those things.  We were all essentially homeless unless you count the Myachi Mobile as a home.  We still ate three meals a day but at least two of them were either Pop-Tarts, Ramen Noodles or peanut butter sandwiches.  We still had plenty of toys to play with but they were all Myachis.  As for vacations, well, we did spend our days in an RV touring the country and hanging out on beaches, concerts, street fairs and amusement parks so I suppose we were technically on vacation full time back then.

The one thing we didn't have back then was money.  These days we fly to an event and sell as many Myachis as we can then we fly back to a sure thing like the Myachigon, but back then there were no "sure things" and the big money opportunities were all seasonal (summer or Christmas) so most of the year we were kind of scraping by.  Back then we drove to an event on fumes and had to sell enough Myachis to make gas money to the next event.  If we were lucky, we'd also sell enough to get food along the way.

If not, oxygen sandwiches were a ready substitute.

Most of the time we did well and you can tell by the fact that I'm writing this that we never starved to death or anything.  But a lot of those times we had to find creative ways to obtain the necessities of life.  It was back then that we coined the phrase "Myachi provides".

See, one of thing that we've always had in Myachi is the loyal dedication of lovers of the game.  Money was good, but it was nothing compared to the value of a kind stranger that just decided that Myachi was the coolest thing they'd ever seen.  In those instances, we didn't need money.  Myachis became a currency of their own.

"That'll be two Black Beards and a Royal Tiger, please."

I can't tell you how many meals I've traded Myachis for.  Street vendors were always the best for this.  A person who just spent all day selling roasted peanuts for a buck a bag might be more than willing to shell out his last few bags of the day in a trade for a new Myachi.  A couple slinging grilled cheeses at a concert would usually fill us up for a few Myachis and a quick lesson.  A local concert goer might even offer us a roof and a shower for the night.

I should say that it's been a long time since I "paid my bills" with Myachis.  Since about 2007 the company's been on even enough footing that I get an actual paycheck and pay my bills with actual money, but that's never stopped me from using Myachis in place of money.  When I look around the House of Skills I'm constantly confronted with things that were purchased with Myachi trades.

I have a little collection of toy Yodas, all obtained through various trades.  We've been killing ourselves for weeks trying to master the slack line that Maverick picked up in a trade for 2 DVD packs.  I'm wearing a T-Shirt some designer gave me for two 1.2s at a street festival in Daytona.  When I go out later to walk on the slack line I'll put on a jacket I just picked up for half a dozen 5.0s.

And a stylish jacket it is...

I've gotten free shoes, meals, travel, lodging, clothing, groceries, toys, entertainment and gas from Myachis, but I've also lucked into a lot more than that.  The most important thing that Myachi provides is friendships.  Everywhere I've gone with Myachi I've managed to turn complete strangers into lifelong friends in short order.  The ultimate ice-breaker, Myachi gives me a chance to open a conversation, make someone smile, entertain them and, from time to time, surprise them with their own skill.

The end result is that I have friends all over the country.  If I go to virtually any major city east of the Mississippi there's someone there I've been dying to see.  When I go anywhere by car I always have to travel in these oddball zig-zag lines to hook up with the various friends that live in cities kind of close to my route.  Most of the time I'm just anxious to see them, but a lot of the time I'm still trying to pay them back for free meals they hooked me up with when we were all broke.

All in all I wouldn't trade those times for anything.  For friendships like that, subsisting off of Pop-Tarts for a few years is a small price to pay.