The Donut Guy Blog

ConkliOdd – Donuts, Games and Life

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  • When One Door Closes

    A View From Admissions and Enrollment

    I consider myself an educator. Sometimes it’s harder to find where you fit into education when you work in admissions and enrollment, but I never felt like that was hard for me. I got into it with the idea of helping students figure out the next step in their lives. Sounds a lot like an educator to me.

    When I was working in student development at SUNY Delhi, I was lucky enough to work events for incoming students thinking about the college or celebrating their acceptance. I always found that work meaningful with people who had reasonable questions and needed the help. Upon finishing my master’s degree, the opportunity to enter the field at SUNY Oneonta opened to me.

    I grew so much at Oneonta. I found myself outside of my original ideas in the field, but into something truly meaningful. My skills connecting with people and helping were on display every time I attended a college fair or worked an event. Corresponding with students and families allowed me to grow as a professional, as a writer, and as a well-rounded leader. I was lucky enough to move forward into the graduate side at Oneonta, adding even more experience and connection to another different type of student. I knew that I could keep moving forward to be a responsible leader in admissions and enrollment.

    Eventually, I reached a level where I knew I could take on more responsibility in a place that mattered. This is how I arrived at SUNY Broome Community College. I did not have experience at the community college level, but I knew they were working with students in need of support and really growing across the system. I found a stride in this work; both reaching students who really needed and appreciated the support, and meeting colleagues who were truly devoted to the best for their students and each other.

    I have felt the most rewarded by this work, particularly in what I have seen it mean to students. The work of a community college is meant to provide the best quality education, with a lot of support at a reasonable cost. I feel like we were doing that to the best of our ability, and moving in a direction to do better every day. Like all colleges, it’s not easy, but that’s not why we get into that work. It’s not about indoctrinating the youth, as someone would have you believe. It is giving people tools to find the most success possible and to know someone who is there to back them up.

    Although my journey is at a crossroads, I would not change what got me here. This type of work is truly meaningful, and I say that to all my colleagues still doing it out there. Colleges are worth it and important. It may take work to find the right one for you or your student, but that really is what matters. Having a plan is what matters. I may not be the Director of Admissions right now, but if there is a student out there or family who has a question or needs help, I wouldn’t hesitate.

  • Gen Con 2026 Preview

    The best, however many days in gaming!

    This week is the time of the year that I affectionately call my season finale. Not only is it the end of the cycle of what I do in higher education, but it is also the culmination of the largest gaming convention of the year. Gen Con is the convention that I call Home, as it was my first and remains one of my favorites.

    This year is particularly exciting because I will be taking over the convention’s social media on two different days. I get to focus on my experience, going to Trade Day for the first time and learning more about design and the industry as I want to enter it. I also get to take over the first day of the convention, showing off my experiences with TTRPGs and board games. This is an opportunity that came about because I put myself out there to do it. I have many friends who have been lucky enough to do this over the last few years, and I’m happy that when I reached out, they liked my ideas and what I could do through collaboration.

    Let’s break down some of the most exciting things I get to see at this convention. We will start with TTRPGs, as they are a great connector for so many people. Our first convention day begins with seeing Arcana Unleashed by Wizards of the Coast and seeing what they have in store for the upcoming year. I also get to be at the reveal of Daggerheart’s expansion, Hope and Fear. I’m eager to get my hands on it and, next year, experience more of this system that I haven’t had enough time with. I also get to stop and see new things from great publishers like Hit Point, Evil Genius, Mythworks, Eerie Games, and our friends at Imagining Games. There are so many possibilities across different settings and systems that everybody can find a place where they fit in.

    There are many exciting board games coming out or being demoed at Gen Con for the first time. I’ve already had great experiences with games like DC Brave and Bold, Drakaina, Six Sided Seas, Mountain Goats Legacy, and The Game Makers. All of them are worth a stop if you have a chance to demo them. I really want to find time to play Mythologies, Pirates of the High Teas, Friendly Fishing, Enchanted Ivy, Cola Wars, Class of ’89, and Super Boss Monster 2. With over 600 new titles this year, there is no shortage of things to play.

    Gen Con feels like Home because it’s also about people. I’ve made so many friends through this convention, and I get to see them again each year. This industry allows you to build incredible friendships with colleagues, and that’s something truly remarkable. Being the largest convention means the most friends are gathered in one place, and if you make the time, you get to spend it with them. Even now, on my drive in, I find myself making plans with friends throughout the week that I truly look forward to. That is what you can do with your current gaming friends—or by simply coming and making new ones.

    The discourse as of late has been whether or not it’s worth going to Gen Con. There has never been a question in my mind after experiencing it and seeing all those people. It may be a ton of people, but there is a reason for that. You can see so much, buy so much, and experience so much that it really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m just lucky enough to have had more than one lifetime here, and that is awesome.

  • The Storm

    There are times in our lives we find ourselves in the middle of a storm. That storm can come in many forms and in many ways. All I know is that the storm can rock you and blow you over if you let it. I should know it well; I have spent the last six months in a storm.

    Now this storm is a a gale of my own making. I won’t paint it any other way as I let loose the winds that blow and roil. I held the rudder and it was my navigation that failed. With no notion of the choppy waters it was my failures that had led this dark water. Into the storm I went, without enough mind to steer away.

    But if. If I had steadied my ship before the trip. If I had looked hard at my charts and reports. If I had saw the piling from bow to stern. If I had followed the charted course. The storm is filled with its and why’s. None of them are painless as the storm crashes waves of them on you. While it’s hard on the sailing to run into them in the storm, they are also the only way out of it.

    So upon crashing on the storm I found myself adrift. The wind and water casting me to and frow, unable to chart a path. It can be many things when you’re drifting in the storm. It even seemed calm as you move through the eye, but still surrounded by turmoil either side. It was those times that I made use of the quiet facade to make a path forward. The first few times I still found myself a drift and after wave upon wave back in the eye. But eventually, I learned and made a course that I could keep.

    Now, I find myself sailing out of the storm. I am wary, and parts are broken. But they can be fixed and even better, I have a plan to do that. Other ships, that of friends and family sail alongside listening to my story. They nod, make me laugh, and are truthful about what they see. I show them my path and what I’m learning, and even helped navigate charts with me. They, much like me wanna see the storm behind and not to wander back in. 

    Looking ahead, I will always remember what I’ve learned and where I’ve sailed. To some, it may be the story of a white whale or some out of tune sea shanty. To me it was life. To me it was the storm.

  • Dunkin Vanilla Cream Donuts Go Missing

    While traveling to PAX Unplugged I met and interviewed the chief creative of 9th Level Games Chris O’Neal. In these situations, I now always ask what a persons favorite donut is. Chris, much to my agreement, chose the white cream donuts from Dunkin. That moment unleashed a mystery in my mind: when is the last time I have seen a Vanilla Cream at Dunkin?

    My go to order at Dunkin typically has included a white cream donut (when I’m not watching my figure). I realize over the last few months this has been nearly impossible. The Dunkin around my house was not carrying them, but that was not new. We went several months to a year without white cream in sight for it to come back magically, with powder instead of glaze. The glaze times were a dark time, but they were better than nothing. But I realize I have not seen vanilla cream in my travels the last few months either.

    Is this a Dunkin decision?  Was there an email to all the franchisees that we are no longer going in a vanilla cream direction? Is it Bavarian or nothing? I don’t find myself in the board rooms or conference calls with the best donut chain in the United States, so these answers are unclear to me. What I do think is that this is a larger thing than the last time that I lost vanilla cream.

    What are we as donut lovers supposed to do with this situation?  Can you put a doughnut picture on a milk carton? Do you make friends with the manager in order to get some of the inside info? Does the company have a hotline to report such mysteries? It is a time to send that tweet (bluesky or threads instead of that dumpster fire are actually)? Even as the donut expert, I don’t have that answer.

    What I do have is a plan to understand and I need your help. If you are reading this from somewhere else in the country, I would love for you to tell me if you still have vanilla cream donuts at Dunkin without chocolate. This will help me understand the scope of what we’re dealing with and then where to take it from there. Or, if you have some pull at the company that America runs on then reach out with information or support. The donut loving community needs you.

  • Writing and Time

    I may have too many things going.

    The scene around me is surreal. The house is filled with boxes from clearance hauls and Christmas prep. Games are strewn everywhere—from convention finds to review copies. Dishes are piled up, and the cats are running amuck. In moments like this, time feels like a distant concept.

    I’ve talked at length about how hard it is to find time to do anything. One thing I realized early on was that communicating like this—writing, sharing, reflecting—was going to take time. Even so, I’ve been excited to share thoughts about games and other things that catch my interest.

    It all sounds so good in your head when you say it out loud. What people don’t tell you is that writing comes with the same mental load and anxiety as any other creative work. When life got busier and harder, the anxiety around what I was creating—and how long it took—grew right alongside it.

    The system I set up for myself was (and still is) pretty solid. I write on my commute or late at night when the day has finally quieted down. What I didn’t anticipate was how much I was already using those times without thinking about it. Maybe I put on a video to unwind. Maybe I needed that time to call pediatrician offices or argue with the phone company. When you take away the time you didn’t realize you were spending on those things, all that work has to go somewhere.

    So yes, you may have noticed I haven’t written in quite a while. The post from earlier today has been sitting in my queue for months, and so much has changed since I wrote it. I’ll share more about what’s nudged me back onto the positive side of the motivation train soon, but for now I want to start by recognizing the little things we do with our time. I may not come out swinging with ambitious writing goals, at least not yet, but I’ve got a clearer understanding of when and how I’ll write alongside everything else.

    And when in doubt, I’ll just go grab a doughnut.

  • Tilt N Shout Game Review

    Tilting and Shouting

    Some games have movement that just speaks to you. You see someone tilting pieces around or the game shifting on its own, and suddenly you’re hooked by the motion alone. Tilt N Shout did exactly that—both for me and my kids, separately, which honestly says something. When we all have the same “Okay, that looks cool” reaction, you know the game is doing something right.

    I don’t pretend my internal algorithm works anything like my children’s, but it’s rare when we all spot a game and get equally curious about how fun it could be. Thankfully, Big Potato Games reached out with a review copy and we got to test that curiosity together. Spoiler: the frenetic gameplay and the laughter weren’t just for show. Watching others try it was just as entertaining.

    The instructions are wonderfully simple—so simple you can basically teach the whole game using the back of the box. Setup is quick, too. (Pro tip: snap the marble board in place before you start tilting it like you’re trying to win a carnival prize.) The whole idea is to say something in the given category and then tilt the board so the marble heads your way. The back-and-forth becomes its own little duel as you try to think fast, avoid repeats, and not crack up.

    I played with my daughter first, and we quickly discovered how easily both of us could stumble, start laughing, and lose the round. The categories are genuinely fun, and the mechanic hits that sweet spot of simple-but-chaotic. Big Potato definitely has something that works for groups or for a quick head-to-head showdown.

    This feels like a game we’ll break out with friends when we need something engaging that doesn’t demand deep strategy—just quick thinking and the ability to keep a straight face. Honestly, some days those are the best kinds of games and the best memories.

    Overall, on our rating scale, I give this an 8 out of 10. It’s absolutely worth picking up to play with a group you vibe with. Just make sure everyone understands that Snuffleupagus is not an animal and is, in fact, a puppet. Don’t ask my daughter about it—we might still be recovering from that specific disagreement. I’m sure she’ll get over it before the next round.

  • The Donuts That Raised Me


    How sweet mornings with my grandparents shaped my love for comfort food and connection.

    I have fond memories of eating donuts. That might sound like a silly statement, and I’m sure others haven’t put as much stock into the times they’ve snacked on sweet treats. But I’ve had so many donuts, in so many places, that most of them blur together. Still, I distinctly remember having donuts with my grandparents each week. I savored the delicious sweetness then, and as an adult, I now relish the memory even more.

    It might seem odd to call eating a donut a canon event, but let me set the scene. I was a kid who spent a lot of time with his grandparents. They watched me regularly, and I went everywhere with them — car shows, funerals, and church events were just part of life. I was their co-pilot, and sometimes the one who actually knew the directions to where we were going. I’m sure they often wondered how to keep me occupied, or how to steer my endless chatter. Sometimes that meant a trip to McDonald’s or counting things as we drove. But often, it meant a stop at our local deli for a donut.

    Being in an area without a regular bakery, our donuts were daily imports from Auburn, New York — from the Cameron Bakery. The style was classic, whether it was a chocolate-covered round or a fried apple fritter. A full case in the morning would be empty by midday. They were known far and wide across town, a sweet treat nobody could pass up.

    I remember walking in with my grandfather, his demeanor much like mine today. He could talk to anyone. I’d sit there and marvel at how he remembered everything about everyone — their families, their stories, their triumphs and troubles. He’d order an apple fritter, then glance at me to see what I was getting that day.

    Walking in with my grandmother wasn’t much different. Her sharp mind made her not only a great talker but also a great listener. As the village clerk, she knew so much about so many. Where my grandfather was a salesman, she was a public servant. Conversations about charities, helping folks in need, or cleaning out someone’s house after they’d passed were always on the menu. Her tastes in donuts varied, but she always ate them carefully — napkin in hand.

    As I get older, I have a harder time recalling the details of our conversations. But certain things never fade: their smiles, their energy, the love they shared with me — and just how good those donuts were. That memory returns every time I take a bite. The taste washes over me, reminding me of some of the best parts of life, and of being the best I could be.

    That’s why donuts are my comfort food. I’m sure I’m also addicted to the sugary goodness, but it’s more than that. Though my grandfather has been gone for many years, I still see his face with an apple fritter in hand. Bless her, my grandmother is 98 now, and I long to bring her a donut to share. It’s why I bring donuts to others — hoping to share a little of the comfort and warmth I feel every time I do.

  • A 1000 Islands Mini-moon

    A wonderful wedding getaway.

    There was a big question in the air about what we’d do the weekend after our wedding. We had the kids set with their own plans, but Jocelyn and I waited until the last minute to decide where we were going. It was Labor Day weekend, so prices were steep, and that added a little apprehension. Still, we knew we wanted time together, just the two of us. After working a wedding in Alexandria Bay earlier this year, I’d been reminded of the simple beauty there and what it meant to me. That settled it: the Thousand Islands would be our place.

    I found the 1000 Islands Hart House online and immediately connected with its owner, Jamie. He clearly cared not only about running a welcoming bed and breakfast but also his guests experience and about Wellesley Island itself. When we arrived Saturday night, we were greeted warmly — well wishes, cold drinks, and plenty of tips for how to spend our time. Each room carried its own theme and character, and the house itself had history. It was once part of Hart Island’s Boldt Castle before the Boldts decided it didn’t fit and moved it across the water. A smart decision, because this place was worth saving.

    Mediterranean Platter

    I made dinner reservations for two restaurants that looked promising both for celebration and for gluten-free options. Our first night we sat outside at The Boat Yard in Clayton. The reviews praised the flavors and atmosphere, and in practice it mostly held up. The staff wasn’t as confident with the gluten-free menu as we’d hoped, but we landed on some great dishes. The Black and Blue Nachos were unique and piled high, the Garlic Chicken hearty, and the Mediterranean Platter had unexpected depth. The star, though, was the platter’s hummus — smoky, rich, and unlike any version I’ve had with Mediterranean food before. The Boat Yard was a great choice for flavor as well as starting to feel the atmosphere around us.

    The next morning brought a surprise. Over breakfast at the Hart House, Jocelyn spotted a familiar face: one of her kids’ former teachers, staying there with her husband. The four of us ended up laughing through the meal, sharing stories and coffee as though we’d planned it. I looked across the table at my wife, grateful again for the joy she so naturally shares. These are the small moments that remind me how lucky I am.

    Williams Baseball Pinball

    We spent the day exploring, guided by Jamie’s recommendations. Thousand Island Park was our first stop, also the site of our second dinner reservation. Along the way we ducked into The Guzzle, a boutique-style grocery and coffee shop that doubled as a game space and mini arcade. I grew up with pinball machines, so seeing an old baseball-themed pinball game made me light up. Jocelyn, meanwhile, reminded me she’s the real gamer in the family by absolutely crushing me at pool. Places like this — small, quirky, alive with character — are what make travel so memorable.

    Later we drove down the St. Lawrence to a few smaller riverside towns. This was Jocelyn’s suggestion based on her own history. Her grandparents had a place nearby, and she has fond memories of summers spent exploring. Walking through Cape Vincent and Clayton with her as my guide was like stepping into her nostalgia. The shops were small, the people friendly, and even at the end of the season the towns felt vibrant. I love connecting with people when we travel, so that energy gave me a spark.

    We had high hopes for dinner at the Wellesley Hotel. The building itself felt like a piece of history — polished woodwork, simple design, a reminder of a time when grand hotels filled Thousand Island Park. Most of those are gone now, victims of fire or time, but the Wellesley remains as the last in that line. Walking in, it carried the kind of weight that makes you expect something special.

    Pomme Frites

    The start was promising. We shared Truffle Pomme Frites, crisp and fragrant, though we quickly learned each bite needed a good hit of parmesan to really sing. Still, it set the tone for what we thought would be a refined meal.

    Korean Shortrib

    For mains, we ordered steak with Gorgonzola cream sauce and tried the Korean short rib. Both sounded perfect for a celebratory evening. The flavors were there — that sauce in particular was superb — but the execution left us wanting. Her steak wasn’t cooked to order, and the sauce portion was too light to balance the dish. My plate was even more unbalanced: one small rice pancake, a tiny streak of chimichurri, and no vegetable to round it out. It looked elegant, but it simply wasn’t enough to stand as a main course.

    Superb Sauce

    The kitchen clearly had the right ideas on flavor, but the proportions missed the mark. At this price point, and with the elegance the Wellesley represents, we expected more.

    And yet, as we lingered in that old dining room, I found myself less concerned with the meal and more with the company. My bride and I laughed at the mismatched plates, shared what worked, and left with a memory that will last longer than any entrée. The hotel stands as a relic of history, but the real treasure that night was time together.

    Our last morning was quiet. Another breakfast at the Hart House, a few more goodbyes, and then we were on our way. We left knowing this little slice of New York was one we’d return to. The Thousand Islands have a calm and charm that feel exactly right for us. My new bride and I need that, and I can’t wait to share it again — with her, and with those we love.

    A great weekend together

  • Capybara Crush Board Game Review: Smiles, Strategy, and Snuggly Packaging

    Capybaras Get Their Heads in the Game

    Capybaras have been living rent-free in our heads lately. The zeitgeist is strong—you see them in games, posters, and funny videos. I’ve never been the type to hold strong opinions about them, but their simple cuteness is undeniable. That charm serves them well, especially as the foundation for a game.

    Capybara Crush, designed by Dylan Coyle, fits right into the aesthetic of the Charming Games Collective. They’ve built a niche around irresistibly cute titles where the art pulls you in with playful characters. Meeting Dylan, I got the sense that the cuteness isn’t just marketing—it’s part of who he is and how he approaches games. They’ve leaned into it with clever packaging (stuffed animal containers!) and even standalone plushies to snuggle. Spending time with folks from Charming gave off exactly that cozy, joyful vibe.

    A Charming Selfie

    The game itself is a card-drafting puzzle where you’re trying to build patterns and sequences for higher scores. The lore sets the stage: the river has flooded, and heroic capybaras are saving other animals by letting them ride along on their heads. River sections can swap out, giving special powers that let you rearrange your tableau, flip cards, or adjust your strategy. If you skip using those powers, they’re worth points at the end. Between drafting choices and power activation, there’s more strategy than first meets the eye. Playing with my son, we found ourselves thinking carefully about those nuances as the board took shape. He summed it up best: Capybara Crush is competitive, but it leaves you with good feelings.

    One thing I appreciated this time was the rulebook. Compared to the last Charming game we played, this one had a much cleaner layout, making the interactions and setup easier to follow. It’s a small detail, but it makes a big difference when you just want to dive in and play.

    Overall, I really like what Dylan and the team are doing—you can see their passion firsthand. Their games fit the family-fun vibe while quietly building skills. For me, the base game earns a solid 8 out of 10. Add in the deluxe edition with its fuzzy container, and I’d give it an extra point. Bring some capybaras to your table and try not to smile.

  • Joy of a Simple Wedding

    Our Wedding With Simple Love

    My partner and I are easily entertained. Over the past few years together, we’ve learned that the simple things make us happiest. Since we’ve both been married before—and we each have kids—we knew we didn’t need a grand production this time around. What we wanted was a celebration: something warm, genuine, and full of the people we love. That’s when I realized something surprising. In our relationship, I’m the Primadonna.

    I work with weddings often, so of course I’ve built up opinions. The first time I got married, I was young and didn’t think much about the details. Now, after officiating and attending so many ceremonies, I knew what I liked, what I didn’t, and where I wanted to land.

    One thing was clear: I didn’t want to elope. I’ve been lucky to meet and love people from all walks of life, and I wanted to share the day with as many of them as possible—without going broke. That meant something bigger than a Vegas Elvis wedding, but still rooted in simplicity.

    We found a venue in Lyn’s hometown, run by people she already trusted. Brooke, Ty and their team at Rustic Ties were incredible—friendly, flexible, and even employing classmates and friends of our kids. We told them the essentials: gluten-free food, no strong opinions about napkins or décor, and a preference for keeping things simple. They rolled with it completely. It helps that their Dolgeville, NY space is naturally beautiful: rustic, warm, and welcoming.

    We didn’t go with a florist or stress about color palettes. Instead, Lyn’s mom—who helps with the local farmers market—connected us to someone selling wildflowers. A quick conversation later, we had everything we needed: bud vases, boutonnieres, and bouquets. I dusted off my old floral training to pull it together, and it felt like hopping back on a bike. One pro tip: don’t hand your bouquet-allergic fiancé too many flowers. They’ll feel better once you stop.

    A Ceremony and a Rick Roll

    Our officiant was Levon, a dear friend, business partner, and brother from another mother. He’s done weddings before, and he struck the perfect balance: heartfelt and hilarious. Yes, we got Rick Rolled in the middle of the ceremony, and no, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

    Every vendor we worked with shared that same spirit of simplicity. Our photographer is a friend and fellow educator who’s captured family photos for years. The music, sound, and karaoke came from a team in Syracuse I’d trusted before. When we met with anyone, we said the same thing: we just want to have fun, we don’t have a lot of specifics. They all rolled with it, exactly as we hoped.

    On the day itself, I couldn’t have asked for more. It was simple, but it overflowed with humor, emotion, and love. Our kids looked as amazing as they are on the inside. My bride took my breath away and made me cry when I saw her in her dress. We danced, we laughed, and we celebrated with the people who mean the most.

    Simple and Lovely

    And really, it can be that simple—if that’s what you want. A wedding can be you and four friends in a park, crying through vows. It can be something more elaborate if that fits you better. But it doesn’t have to be complicated just because tradition says so. As Lyn likes to remind me: “We’re in our forties, so we can do what we want.” I’d argue that’s true at any age. Create the wedding that feels right for you—even if it’s simple.