Sticking to your guns, do you do it? What I mean is do you play the class/spec that's the flavor of the patch or do you play whatever class/spec combo that you like the best? If you are a Survival Hunter, do you stick to it no matter what your guild leader says? What if you're a Shaman, like me, and want to stay Enhancement even when everyone around you is saying "You should go ranged DPS or switch to Resto. As Resto you can get into any raid, it's awesome".
But what if you don't like healing? Should you allow yourself to be forced to heal for the good of the group? Or should you say to your guild leader "Maybe you should recruit more healers, but I would like to stay DPS".
I haven't done the math, but there are, let's see, 1...2...3...4...oh I give up. There are a lot of different race/class/spec combinations. Enough to go around, that's for sure. Now I hear it often, we need more tanks and healers in the game, DPS is a dime a dozen, can people please roll more tanks and heals?
Why?
So your LFD queue time is instant, just like tanks? Why should you or I give up the class/spec that we enjoy most for the good of the group?
Disclaimer: I'm an American, an individual from a very individualistic society. What's good for the whole isn't our first instinct. That said, I still wonder if we should easily capitulate to outside forces, demanding that our Mage be Arcane in order to top the Recount meters.
Gronthe is my Warlock, but I also have a Shaman at lvl 80. He's Enhance, and will always be. I will heal every now and then, but if I ever have a choice I play my Enhance because that's what I love to play.
If you continue reading I'll tell another story of my childhood, it's pretty good and has a lot to do with what I'm talking about.
This is embarassing, but as a kid I had some "speech impediments", according to experts. Actually, moving from the New England to the Rocky Mountains (for only a few forgetful years) my Maine accent was considered to be a disability. My elementary school forced me into speach therapy to fix my habit of rarely pronouncing my "R's", which most of the time came out sounding like the word "awe".
Heck, even at my high school football games when I moved back to New Hampshire we joked about our team's/city's name, Dover, by chanting:
Gimme a D...O...V...A...H. What's that spell? DOVAH!
One day I was at my friends house in the crisp, clean air of the Rockies, when I looked at a Tonka truck in his driveway, I noticed that there was a hole in the top of the truck that wasn't supposed to be there. Wanting to be a good friend, I tried to point this out by saying that I saw a hole in his truck, and maybe I could help him repair it. But it didn't come out right.
"I sawed a hole in yuh twuck".
He, being quick witted and a bit sarcastic, understood what I was saying but decided it be more fun to play with me.
"What, you sawed a hole into my truck? Why would you do that? Are you going to saw it in half when I'm asleep? Why? Why?"
Then he started to fake a cry. Oh great, he completely misunderstood me, or so I thought. After a couple minutes of teasing me he told me that he understood. We laughed about it and them played the day away.
But back at school I was forced spend the next year in speech therapy learning to forget the "true me" and speak like all the other robots in my shcool. In other words, I learned to pronounce my "R's". Now I can't stop, and to this day I hate my school for thinking there was something wrong with me.
For me this is the same as somebody telling me I need to change my spec because it's not the right fit. Well what if I don't freakin' want to pronounce my "R's" anymore, what if I want to stay Enhancement and not switch to ranged DPS or full time healer. I like who I am, and if you don't well then I'll find somebody who will!!!!!
I wish I could have said that to my speech therapist, but I had a hard time pronouncing his name:
Roger Frankwriter (a.k.a. Wodgah Fwankwightah). He probably thought I was swearing at him all the time.
I know it's not that big of a deal, as many smart guild/raid leaders appreciate and seek for a balance in their raiding teams, but I just had to get this off my chest.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Cents and Centsability
Please do not make fun of me for knowing about Jane Austin. She wrote my wife's favorite book, Pride and Prejudice (& Sense and Sensibility), which has been made into film by many screenwriters over the years. Another author, Leo Tolstoy, wrote stories about Russian aristocracy similar to Jane Austin's novels which often revolve around persons within the elite of British wealth. Both authors offer insight into these worlds, the common thread in their explorations into the human condition is money.
Stay with me, I like to present a backdrop to every story I tell or topic I discuss.
Where was I? Oh yes, money. Another author I wish to highlight is Victor Hugo, well known in the US and around the world as the writer of Les Miserables. Yes, the musical was based off an incredibly famous novel. Hugo was a champion of the poor and miserable of France. He explored the human condition from the other end of the spectrum opposite Tolstoy and Austin. Hugo's works are filled with poor and oppressed individuals and the lives they were often forced to live, from planning a revolution to having to steal bread to live. So as Tolstoy wrote of princes in battle against Napoleon, Hugo wrote of a man who was so lowly that even the dog houses were too good of a place for him to sleep.
Money is one of the most powerful forces on earth, in the real world at least. While in games, even though it has its power and influences, it does not rival its real world impact on people. As I have played WoW there have been times of great wealth (for me) and times of sheer poverty. I remember trying to start up a new character, my first toon, with zero money. No copper, no silver, no gold. Those were difficult times, but I learned quickly to sell products that other people used a lot. Eventually I would earn enough to fuel all of my gaming activities.
Now there are nearly as many different attitudes about in-game currency as there are people. Some value the challenge of making thousands of gold a day, while others only get money from what they loot or the trash they sell. And some don't know that they can even sell trash, poor souls. Some people buy expensive mounts while others buy stuff off the AH just to flip it and get even more money.
Is there a right and wrong attitude for the money we make and spend? If I am not interested in hitting the gold cap, does that mean that I have no vision or am an idiot? I think the only thing it means is that I don't value that activity, not that I'm incapable or too stupid to accomplish it. Conversly, if my main activity on WoW is to make money at all costs, does that mean that I'm necessarily greedy and a goldmonger? Not at all. It could simply mean that you want to attempt the challenge of being the richest player in WoW.
However, there are players who are not very quick or understand the dynamics of economies. Some because they have either never had the opportunity to learn or have neglected it. Others simply due to age.
I have two kids (ages 7 & 9) that I allow to play sometimes, both are terrible at making money and I'm always having to finance their activities. Their inability to make money is not because they are slackers or idiots (by the way, I love my kids, so if you call them stupid there is a very good chance I will hunt you down and hurt you), they don't make money because they just don't care. They want to slay dragons and even raise baby murlocs in a good home. Swinging a sword is fun for them, not spending hours upon hours at the auction house. My kids don't understand economies, and that's ok. They have different values, and for them that is enough.
If we learn anything from great world authors is that there are redeeming qualities in both the uber-wealthy and the starving-poor. Yet there are also some who exibit the qualities of Iago in Shakespeare's Othello. Those are the dangerous ones, they will literally lie, cheat and steal in order to get more gold. They will paint a picture to the world while silently weaving webs of mistrust and betrayal. They promise you one thing only to hack your account and take everything your character has. For whatever reason they value theft and dishonesty. I think these individuals are a special case and don't fit well into the topic at hand.
Whatever people do for/with money in-game is their choice, most of the time. It's based on what they value and what types of activities they consider "fun" (which is subjective and varying). I think it's great that just as there is a choice between PvP and PvE we can make a choice between caring about the WoW economy and virtual gold and not caring. However, there is one thing that is similar to virtual economies and real life, in both cases money is needed at some point to progress or survive. So no matter what your attitude, sooner or later you're gonna need it. Tolstoy, Austin and Hugo understood this perfectly.
Stay with me, I like to present a backdrop to every story I tell or topic I discuss.
Where was I? Oh yes, money. Another author I wish to highlight is Victor Hugo, well known in the US and around the world as the writer of Les Miserables. Yes, the musical was based off an incredibly famous novel. Hugo was a champion of the poor and miserable of France. He explored the human condition from the other end of the spectrum opposite Tolstoy and Austin. Hugo's works are filled with poor and oppressed individuals and the lives they were often forced to live, from planning a revolution to having to steal bread to live. So as Tolstoy wrote of princes in battle against Napoleon, Hugo wrote of a man who was so lowly that even the dog houses were too good of a place for him to sleep.
Money is one of the most powerful forces on earth, in the real world at least. While in games, even though it has its power and influences, it does not rival its real world impact on people. As I have played WoW there have been times of great wealth (for me) and times of sheer poverty. I remember trying to start up a new character, my first toon, with zero money. No copper, no silver, no gold. Those were difficult times, but I learned quickly to sell products that other people used a lot. Eventually I would earn enough to fuel all of my gaming activities.
Now there are nearly as many different attitudes about in-game currency as there are people. Some value the challenge of making thousands of gold a day, while others only get money from what they loot or the trash they sell. And some don't know that they can even sell trash, poor souls. Some people buy expensive mounts while others buy stuff off the AH just to flip it and get even more money.
Is there a right and wrong attitude for the money we make and spend? If I am not interested in hitting the gold cap, does that mean that I have no vision or am an idiot? I think the only thing it means is that I don't value that activity, not that I'm incapable or too stupid to accomplish it. Conversly, if my main activity on WoW is to make money at all costs, does that mean that I'm necessarily greedy and a goldmonger? Not at all. It could simply mean that you want to attempt the challenge of being the richest player in WoW.
However, there are players who are not very quick or understand the dynamics of economies. Some because they have either never had the opportunity to learn or have neglected it. Others simply due to age.
I have two kids (ages 7 & 9) that I allow to play sometimes, both are terrible at making money and I'm always having to finance their activities. Their inability to make money is not because they are slackers or idiots (by the way, I love my kids, so if you call them stupid there is a very good chance I will hunt you down and hurt you), they don't make money because they just don't care. They want to slay dragons and even raise baby murlocs in a good home. Swinging a sword is fun for them, not spending hours upon hours at the auction house. My kids don't understand economies, and that's ok. They have different values, and for them that is enough.
If we learn anything from great world authors is that there are redeeming qualities in both the uber-wealthy and the starving-poor. Yet there are also some who exibit the qualities of Iago in Shakespeare's Othello. Those are the dangerous ones, they will literally lie, cheat and steal in order to get more gold. They will paint a picture to the world while silently weaving webs of mistrust and betrayal. They promise you one thing only to hack your account and take everything your character has. For whatever reason they value theft and dishonesty. I think these individuals are a special case and don't fit well into the topic at hand.
Whatever people do for/with money in-game is their choice, most of the time. It's based on what they value and what types of activities they consider "fun" (which is subjective and varying). I think it's great that just as there is a choice between PvP and PvE we can make a choice between caring about the WoW economy and virtual gold and not caring. However, there is one thing that is similar to virtual economies and real life, in both cases money is needed at some point to progress or survive. So no matter what your attitude, sooner or later you're gonna need it. Tolstoy, Austin and Hugo understood this perfectly.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Part 3...Unveiling of Motive
Let me get something straight, two days ago I said that I would write one post a day until I completed 3 posts that would ultimately unveil what my motives for playing WoW are. Well yesterday I was so unbelievably sick that I just couldn't post. Then Larisa the Innkeeper decided to chime in, waiting for my post, but it wasn't there. I felt terrible, just terrible, so I decided to post part one and two. Maybe it's my medicine, maybe it's just luck, but I feel well enough now to write, and not knowing how I'll feel tomorrow I'm going to post part 3 now (I also don't want to lose such a wonderful reader as Larisa).
If you haven't read part one or two I suggest you do, it gives the backdrop to the story I am telling.
Part 3...Unveiling of Motive
Cute girls? /Laugh. They are a thing of the past. Only one woman matters to me today, not 3 bent on devastaion and destruction of my skull. Music is still a part of my life, as are sports (but only in the viewing sense). I work professionally in business and still have the dream of owning my own theater one day. I believe in culture, I believe that a community is enriched by music and dance and theater. But moving on...
Two years ago I was involved in an accident at work, an accident that left me unable to walk for a couple weeks. I can walk today, but I live with a tremendous amount of pain. It's difficult to keep a steady job because I miss so much work due to my condition. Every avenue to help me feel better and fix my condition has been denied by both workers compensation law and private insurance companies. Nobody wants to put up the money necessary to help me, and I am not wealthy enough to do it without financial support.
So where am I? Stuck. The system has spit me out and stomped on my head (or back, since it's my back that's injured). I'm frustrated and scared. I've done nothing illegal, I only seek medical help, yet the law in my state, and many states in the US does not protect the worker but the businesses that employ. Law is not always right, we know that, but I find myself only 3 weeks from losing my current job (was just notified of that 2 days ago), I am handicaped, but not in a way that allows me to earn support from local or federal government or private sources of support, and there remain just a few things that I can physically do.
Two things I can do: I can live and I can remember.
The memories of my life are as fresh today as the day they all occured. It's a result of having a lot of time to think by myself, unhindered by a stern boss or nagging wife (just to be clear, my wife doesn't nag, she's perfect). Memories of my past have helped me put my present into perspective. Memories have helped me to not repeat past mistakes and search for new experiences. Memories keep me sane, in part.
I live life the best way I can now. I know I said I'm angry but I still hold out hope for a solution. I would love to be able to teach my kids how to throw a baseball or shoot a basketball, but those activities have been put on hold. Outside of work I live in two worlds, my church and my family (not necessarily in that order). Every day when I get home I have my family there waiting for me, smiling and happy to see their husband or dad get home from a hard and painful day at work. They bring me a light and a joy that I once thought I would find in cute girls, sports, music or business.
But I've learned none of those things were truly important to me. My family is what gives me life now. But I'm limited, and that makes my kids sad sometimes, and in turn leads me to tears. But a little more than a year ago while serfing the net I came accross an add for a free ten day trial for some World of Warcraft or something or other. I couldn't do a lot physically, but my eyes and fingers still worked just fine. So I tried it out.
I was engaged from the fist step I took into the Northsire Abby. What came flooding back to me were all the memories I had as a kid, playing games because I was too injured to participate in what other "normal" people were doing. In High School my games were singing and dancing, a diversion afforded to me because of physical injury and limitations. Now as an adult I am injured once more, and out of all things to divert me for brief moments at night I have a game that millions of others are playing all around the world. A MMO, a term I had never before heard of...why would I?
Soon after starting my kids saw this game and have rarely left my side since. Every day we play together, me and my boys. I've let them create a few characters of their own to explore Azeroth, and it makes me happy to see them excited because they enjoy the time we spend together.
I'm not a horrible father, however, I still talk to them, read to them, and help them with shcool projects and their cub scout stuff, but we still love to play WoW together every night.
All my life I've made plans, and it's always been some physical injury that has changed the course of my life. Those injuries have forced me to find other hobbies, other activities to engage in. Before my injury as an adult I spent time with my kids just like any other dad, perhaps better even. But now I spend a lot of time with them, and playing Wow together has simply given me more time to do even more stuff with them, even though I'm limited phycially.
I started to play WoW because, well, I could. There were no limitations on me physically. But more than that it was a lifetime of memories flowing back to greet me, to welcome me back into the world of games and fantasy. A new path that appeared out of trial.
I still play because it's one more thing to do to spend time with my kids, it makes us happy. I continue to play because it allows me to rest from the difficulites of my day, the pain. I know it's just a game, and I know that one day something new will open up in my life, but I'm going to ride this train as long as it's at the station.
If a motive is something (need or desire) that causes a person to act, my motive was my desire to feel relief. I'm relieved I can do something with my kids without them resenting me for not being able to walk or play outside with them. I'm relieved that there is a fun and fascinating diversion in my life that lets me be myself without interference from the world. I needed relief, and for now I've found it, and it's nice.
If you haven't read part one or two I suggest you do, it gives the backdrop to the story I am telling.
Part 3...Unveiling of Motive
Cute girls? /Laugh. They are a thing of the past. Only one woman matters to me today, not 3 bent on devastaion and destruction of my skull. Music is still a part of my life, as are sports (but only in the viewing sense). I work professionally in business and still have the dream of owning my own theater one day. I believe in culture, I believe that a community is enriched by music and dance and theater. But moving on...
Two years ago I was involved in an accident at work, an accident that left me unable to walk for a couple weeks. I can walk today, but I live with a tremendous amount of pain. It's difficult to keep a steady job because I miss so much work due to my condition. Every avenue to help me feel better and fix my condition has been denied by both workers compensation law and private insurance companies. Nobody wants to put up the money necessary to help me, and I am not wealthy enough to do it without financial support.
So where am I? Stuck. The system has spit me out and stomped on my head (or back, since it's my back that's injured). I'm frustrated and scared. I've done nothing illegal, I only seek medical help, yet the law in my state, and many states in the US does not protect the worker but the businesses that employ. Law is not always right, we know that, but I find myself only 3 weeks from losing my current job (was just notified of that 2 days ago), I am handicaped, but not in a way that allows me to earn support from local or federal government or private sources of support, and there remain just a few things that I can physically do.
Two things I can do: I can live and I can remember.
The memories of my life are as fresh today as the day they all occured. It's a result of having a lot of time to think by myself, unhindered by a stern boss or nagging wife (just to be clear, my wife doesn't nag, she's perfect). Memories of my past have helped me put my present into perspective. Memories have helped me to not repeat past mistakes and search for new experiences. Memories keep me sane, in part.
I live life the best way I can now. I know I said I'm angry but I still hold out hope for a solution. I would love to be able to teach my kids how to throw a baseball or shoot a basketball, but those activities have been put on hold. Outside of work I live in two worlds, my church and my family (not necessarily in that order). Every day when I get home I have my family there waiting for me, smiling and happy to see their husband or dad get home from a hard and painful day at work. They bring me a light and a joy that I once thought I would find in cute girls, sports, music or business.
But I've learned none of those things were truly important to me. My family is what gives me life now. But I'm limited, and that makes my kids sad sometimes, and in turn leads me to tears. But a little more than a year ago while serfing the net I came accross an add for a free ten day trial for some World of Warcraft or something or other. I couldn't do a lot physically, but my eyes and fingers still worked just fine. So I tried it out.
I was engaged from the fist step I took into the Northsire Abby. What came flooding back to me were all the memories I had as a kid, playing games because I was too injured to participate in what other "normal" people were doing. In High School my games were singing and dancing, a diversion afforded to me because of physical injury and limitations. Now as an adult I am injured once more, and out of all things to divert me for brief moments at night I have a game that millions of others are playing all around the world. A MMO, a term I had never before heard of...why would I?
Soon after starting my kids saw this game and have rarely left my side since. Every day we play together, me and my boys. I've let them create a few characters of their own to explore Azeroth, and it makes me happy to see them excited because they enjoy the time we spend together.
I'm not a horrible father, however, I still talk to them, read to them, and help them with shcool projects and their cub scout stuff, but we still love to play WoW together every night.
All my life I've made plans, and it's always been some physical injury that has changed the course of my life. Those injuries have forced me to find other hobbies, other activities to engage in. Before my injury as an adult I spent time with my kids just like any other dad, perhaps better even. But now I spend a lot of time with them, and playing Wow together has simply given me more time to do even more stuff with them, even though I'm limited phycially.
I started to play WoW because, well, I could. There were no limitations on me physically. But more than that it was a lifetime of memories flowing back to greet me, to welcome me back into the world of games and fantasy. A new path that appeared out of trial.
I still play because it's one more thing to do to spend time with my kids, it makes us happy. I continue to play because it allows me to rest from the difficulites of my day, the pain. I know it's just a game, and I know that one day something new will open up in my life, but I'm going to ride this train as long as it's at the station.
If a motive is something (need or desire) that causes a person to act, my motive was my desire to feel relief. I'm relieved I can do something with my kids without them resenting me for not being able to walk or play outside with them. I'm relieved that there is a fun and fascinating diversion in my life that lets me be myself without interference from the world. I needed relief, and for now I've found it, and it's nice.
Part 2...Adolescence
If you have not yet read part 1, please do it first then read part 2. Thanks.
So with the sirens of the roller-skating rink firmly in my past, I set my sights forward to a bright and hopeful future. I thought I would be playing games every day of my life, but then 6th grade came, age 12, and life changed once again.
Long past were the Atari days of playing Asteroids, a new game system had exploded onto the market, the Nintendo something or other. I didn't have enough money to buy it, and at my partents urging I became more active in after-school activities with real, live, human beings.
I learned that I could play basketball. The first game I played in 6th grade was against our cross-town, bitter rival of the South side. Us North-siders had an air of superiority in us, no doubt, but I always tried to remain humble. I was still very shy and did not like to show off, that is until that first basketball game. The first 10 times that the other team had the ball I promptly stole it and dribbled down to our basket to lay the ball up and in. We ended up winning something like 56-6. And I think I scored 50 of our points.
I had no idea I was this good. I was alwasy bigger and stronger and faster than everyone else my age, I just never thought of using it against people. But I did...and it was great.
Obviously we made it to the championship game against the schoole we first beat 56-6, butunfortunately the game was only presided over by our coach and one other adult somewhere in the gym. The other team's coach wasn't even at the game and kids from their school were running the scoreboard. They played fiercly that game, trying to do everything they could to stay way from me and my Rogue-like hands of thievery. But every now and then I would look up at the scoreboard in the middle of a play and see a point or two added here and there.
I kept mentioning it to people but nobody wanted to listen. By the time we were done we had lost by 4 points. We should have beaten them by 10, at least, but the scoreboard showed that we lost. They got the trophy, and we were shamed.
I was mad, I still am, and I soon channeled that anger into my work to get better and sports. Games fell by the wayside, I became an All-State baseball and baskektball player by my junior year of high school. Everything was falling into place, I was on the verge of college athletic scholorships and all-around notariety.
Then I went to basketball camp in the summer of my junior year. During a scrimmage game on the outdoor courts I was pushed into the pole that holds up the backboard and heard a "CRACK". Yes, that was my kneecap hitting the solid, very sturdy, metal pole. Water built up in my knee within the hour, a crack formed in my patella, it was a very serious injury.
Having to leave early I came home dejected and sad at what that could mean for my Senior season. But fate stepped in once again. A friend who took pity on my situation spent day after day talking to me and helping me to cope with the possibility of not being able to play basketball that year. One night at her house we started to sign a Boyz-2-Men song in her living room, we were that comfortable with each other, and Bozy-2-Men were the hottest thing on the planet at the time. She said that I had a nice voice and should try out for the school choir. After much thought I dropped my physics class and took up singing. I couldn't play sports because I couldn't walk straight for 8 months. So I sang.
By the time I was done with High School I had gone from a gamer, to a jock, to a musician. I had sang in musicals and played in AAU competition. My life in the gaming world was non-existant. I also had an opportunity to live and study in South America, learn to speak fluent Castellano (that's the Spanish spoken in Argentina). My life chagned completely, games were a thing of childhood, trivial and time consuming. A waste.
My life was set, I started to study commercial real estate with the hopes of buying and owing my own community theater one day. I met a beautiful woman, once again employing all my powers of cuteness on here, and we married and had two perfect boys. Then things changed again, I grew up, and Part 3 of my journey commenced.
Stay tuned.
So with the sirens of the roller-skating rink firmly in my past, I set my sights forward to a bright and hopeful future. I thought I would be playing games every day of my life, but then 6th grade came, age 12, and life changed once again.
Long past were the Atari days of playing Asteroids, a new game system had exploded onto the market, the Nintendo something or other. I didn't have enough money to buy it, and at my partents urging I became more active in after-school activities with real, live, human beings.
I learned that I could play basketball. The first game I played in 6th grade was against our cross-town, bitter rival of the South side. Us North-siders had an air of superiority in us, no doubt, but I always tried to remain humble. I was still very shy and did not like to show off, that is until that first basketball game. The first 10 times that the other team had the ball I promptly stole it and dribbled down to our basket to lay the ball up and in. We ended up winning something like 56-6. And I think I scored 50 of our points.
I had no idea I was this good. I was alwasy bigger and stronger and faster than everyone else my age, I just never thought of using it against people. But I did...and it was great.
Obviously we made it to the championship game against the schoole we first beat 56-6, butunfortunately the game was only presided over by our coach and one other adult somewhere in the gym. The other team's coach wasn't even at the game and kids from their school were running the scoreboard. They played fiercly that game, trying to do everything they could to stay way from me and my Rogue-like hands of thievery. But every now and then I would look up at the scoreboard in the middle of a play and see a point or two added here and there.
I kept mentioning it to people but nobody wanted to listen. By the time we were done we had lost by 4 points. We should have beaten them by 10, at least, but the scoreboard showed that we lost. They got the trophy, and we were shamed.
I was mad, I still am, and I soon channeled that anger into my work to get better and sports. Games fell by the wayside, I became an All-State baseball and baskektball player by my junior year of high school. Everything was falling into place, I was on the verge of college athletic scholorships and all-around notariety.
Then I went to basketball camp in the summer of my junior year. During a scrimmage game on the outdoor courts I was pushed into the pole that holds up the backboard and heard a "CRACK". Yes, that was my kneecap hitting the solid, very sturdy, metal pole. Water built up in my knee within the hour, a crack formed in my patella, it was a very serious injury.
Having to leave early I came home dejected and sad at what that could mean for my Senior season. But fate stepped in once again. A friend who took pity on my situation spent day after day talking to me and helping me to cope with the possibility of not being able to play basketball that year. One night at her house we started to sign a Boyz-2-Men song in her living room, we were that comfortable with each other, and Bozy-2-Men were the hottest thing on the planet at the time. She said that I had a nice voice and should try out for the school choir. After much thought I dropped my physics class and took up singing. I couldn't play sports because I couldn't walk straight for 8 months. So I sang.
By the time I was done with High School I had gone from a gamer, to a jock, to a musician. I had sang in musicals and played in AAU competition. My life in the gaming world was non-existant. I also had an opportunity to live and study in South America, learn to speak fluent Castellano (that's the Spanish spoken in Argentina). My life chagned completely, games were a thing of childhood, trivial and time consuming. A waste.
My life was set, I started to study commercial real estate with the hopes of buying and owing my own community theater one day. I met a beautiful woman, once again employing all my powers of cuteness on here, and we married and had two perfect boys. Then things changed again, I grew up, and Part 3 of my journey commenced.
Stay tuned.
Part 1...Childhood
Every 7 year old is cute. Well, not every one, I knew this kid once, well, I won't get into that. Let's just say that he never showered.
But I was cute, a real heartbreaker. I had every girl my age at school eating out of the palm of my hand. It was great. I can't say I was a player, I was too shy for that, but in my mind I understood the power I had over girls at that age. And I wielded that power with grace and cunning.
The best part about growing up was the summer, duh, but we had a roller-skating funhouse in our town and were given free passes from our school to skate there every day if we were so inclined. It was a great way for parents to keep their kids busy, and for some kids it was a place to actually "get busy". (Just kissing, nothing more)
I saw Michael Jackson's "Thriller" for the first time while roller-skating there, it was by far the biggest event of the day when it was played on the 80 inch movie screen in the corner. That was a rush.
The biggest event of the day, however, was when the lights were turned down and the slow, romantic music permiated every into corner of rink. On alternate days you would see one of the following: 1) Girls sitting on the pony wall along the north side holding out there hands just waiting for a boy to grab them and pull them into the rink of love to enjoy a skate and a glance, and maybe, just maybe, even hand-holding. /gasp! 2) Boys holding out there hands hoping that nobody would touch them, but it was mandatory, so we had to.
One day it was my turn to skate around and look at all the little cuties lined up on the wall, hands stretched out in anticipation, and here I am wielding once again my power. What great days those were. Anyway, I saw a group of 3 blond-headed cutesies bunched together. With all the bravado I could muster I skated by them and said on my next pass I'd like to take all three. They giggled at me, then as I skated off said something like "yes, finally" whispered between them. So the next pass I held out my hand ready to grab each in turn when all of a sudden they grabbed me all at once, and so hard did they pull at me (in order to lift themselves off the wall and onto the skating rink) that they pulled me down to the floor where the back of my head hit with the force of ten tanker trucks.
Within the minute a couple adults supervising the skating were at my side administering first aid. My world had come crashing down and those cute little girls were to blame. So much for my hand-holding venture, what a failure. Sure, maybe I was a little to ambitious, but so what, a guy has gotta try, right?
So how in the world does this have anything to do with World of Warcraft and my motives for playing it? Well, as I was resting on the sidelines watching those girls skate away with other, less cute boys, I walked around the arcade part of the building and saw a Miss Pac-Man game calling me. That game had an exploit where you could spin a penny into the coin slot and trick the machine into thinking it was a quarter, it was great. So instead of holding hands with the cutiest girls in school I started playing games that day...and the next, and the next, and the next.
My summer ended with little concern over girls and cuteness, I even felt my power receding into the background. It was still there, believe me, but it remained dormant for a few years. I wasn't ready to wield that power again just yet.
But that day granted me a new hobby. I liked games as much as the next kid, but that day got me started on a path of fun and a lot of time wasted. I later got the new Atari 2600 (at least I think it was that version). I could play all kinds of different games now, and in the comfort of my own, soft-floored, home.
So let me thank those cuties for setting me straight. I don't know what I would be like today if they hadn't nearly split my head in two.
Later brings part two...Adolescence. Ick!
But I was cute, a real heartbreaker. I had every girl my age at school eating out of the palm of my hand. It was great. I can't say I was a player, I was too shy for that, but in my mind I understood the power I had over girls at that age. And I wielded that power with grace and cunning.
The best part about growing up was the summer, duh, but we had a roller-skating funhouse in our town and were given free passes from our school to skate there every day if we were so inclined. It was a great way for parents to keep their kids busy, and for some kids it was a place to actually "get busy". (Just kissing, nothing more)
I saw Michael Jackson's "Thriller" for the first time while roller-skating there, it was by far the biggest event of the day when it was played on the 80 inch movie screen in the corner. That was a rush.
The biggest event of the day, however, was when the lights were turned down and the slow, romantic music permiated every into corner of rink. On alternate days you would see one of the following: 1) Girls sitting on the pony wall along the north side holding out there hands just waiting for a boy to grab them and pull them into the rink of love to enjoy a skate and a glance, and maybe, just maybe, even hand-holding. /gasp! 2) Boys holding out there hands hoping that nobody would touch them, but it was mandatory, so we had to.
One day it was my turn to skate around and look at all the little cuties lined up on the wall, hands stretched out in anticipation, and here I am wielding once again my power. What great days those were. Anyway, I saw a group of 3 blond-headed cutesies bunched together. With all the bravado I could muster I skated by them and said on my next pass I'd like to take all three. They giggled at me, then as I skated off said something like "yes, finally" whispered between them. So the next pass I held out my hand ready to grab each in turn when all of a sudden they grabbed me all at once, and so hard did they pull at me (in order to lift themselves off the wall and onto the skating rink) that they pulled me down to the floor where the back of my head hit with the force of ten tanker trucks.
Within the minute a couple adults supervising the skating were at my side administering first aid. My world had come crashing down and those cute little girls were to blame. So much for my hand-holding venture, what a failure. Sure, maybe I was a little to ambitious, but so what, a guy has gotta try, right?
So how in the world does this have anything to do with World of Warcraft and my motives for playing it? Well, as I was resting on the sidelines watching those girls skate away with other, less cute boys, I walked around the arcade part of the building and saw a Miss Pac-Man game calling me. That game had an exploit where you could spin a penny into the coin slot and trick the machine into thinking it was a quarter, it was great. So instead of holding hands with the cutiest girls in school I started playing games that day...and the next, and the next, and the next.
My summer ended with little concern over girls and cuteness, I even felt my power receding into the background. It was still there, believe me, but it remained dormant for a few years. I wasn't ready to wield that power again just yet.
But that day granted me a new hobby. I liked games as much as the next kid, but that day got me started on a path of fun and a lot of time wasted. I later got the new Atari 2600 (at least I think it was that version). I could play all kinds of different games now, and in the comfort of my own, soft-floored, home.
So let me thank those cuties for setting me straight. I don't know what I would be like today if they hadn't nearly split my head in two.
Later brings part two...Adolescence. Ick!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Motives
Motives are power. They are the raw force that drives us to act. They are a product of thought fueled by knowledge. What actions are ever done without first existed a motive for such action.
Websters defines it as "something (need or desire) that causes a person to act.
In my short and limited exposure to psychology I noticed that Psychologits are hesitant to claim "Causality" as it is very difficult to prove something like "watching reality TV CAUSES stupidity". There are levels of correlation that they are willing to measure, but it's dangerous to say that any one thing CAUSES another.
But our motives are drivers, in a way causing us to act because that's what we think that we need or know that we desire.
What was my motive to start playing World of Warcraft? The story is a long one and I'm afraid I cannot put it all into one post. What I plan to do is write a series of 3 posts that help to give a deeper insight into not only why I started playing but why I continue to do so.
Sorry, this is a cliffhanger!
Feel free to bring both you and yourself back tomorrow for the start of this journey. Hint: It begins in childhood. I hope I can make it entertaining enough to keep you coming back for more.
Websters defines it as "something (need or desire) that causes a person to act.
In my short and limited exposure to psychology I noticed that Psychologits are hesitant to claim "Causality" as it is very difficult to prove something like "watching reality TV CAUSES stupidity". There are levels of correlation that they are willing to measure, but it's dangerous to say that any one thing CAUSES another.
But our motives are drivers, in a way causing us to act because that's what we think that we need or know that we desire.
What was my motive to start playing World of Warcraft? The story is a long one and I'm afraid I cannot put it all into one post. What I plan to do is write a series of 3 posts that help to give a deeper insight into not only why I started playing but why I continue to do so.
Sorry, this is a cliffhanger!
Feel free to bring both you and yourself back tomorrow for the start of this journey. Hint: It begins in childhood. I hope I can make it entertaining enough to keep you coming back for more.
That's Sick!
What I hate about a cold is how foggy it can make you feel. You don't see straight, things can get blurry or fuzzy or you feel dizzy and need to get back into bed. What I hate more than having a cold myself is when a supervisor or manager gets one and they still come to work. I can only figure that it's a statement of toughness and of their inner drive to "get the job done" that they are showing off.
To me they are crazy, all it does is reinforce a social belief that you SHOULD, nay you MUST work while sick, otherwise you're nothing but the lazy person in the office who shows weakness at the first signs of adversity. "You are not management material because you stay home when you are sick, loser."
So what about raiding? Do people give any slack to somebody who is obviously sick and doesn't have all their mental faculties available to them? The other night while doing the weekly raid with a few guildies and some pugged players, we had some trouble because there were two people who were really, really sick. Just so happens that it was the main tank and his healer (me).
I can't say who was in a greater fog, but I'm not sure it mattered. He kept forgetting to use certain abilities that enable tanks to, well, tank. And I was so out of it I never even noticed I was in the fire until I couldn't cast anymore..."Hey, I died, how did that happen?"
The run was a failure, and DPS types were talking to us over vent as if we were complete idiots. We apologized and said that we just needed to get off and let everyone else find a way to succeed without us.
I felt so bad, but also angry. I guess raiding has become a business, or just a job, where there is no mercy shown to those who get sick and no allowed time off without attaching a social stigma to those persons.
Let me phrase my question this way: Are you cold blooded or do you have a heart?
I'm curious. My own experience tells me that many are unforgiving, but my experience is narrow and only mine. What about you? Would you show your understanding or rail against the sickos in cold-blood?
To me they are crazy, all it does is reinforce a social belief that you SHOULD, nay you MUST work while sick, otherwise you're nothing but the lazy person in the office who shows weakness at the first signs of adversity. "You are not management material because you stay home when you are sick, loser."
So what about raiding? Do people give any slack to somebody who is obviously sick and doesn't have all their mental faculties available to them? The other night while doing the weekly raid with a few guildies and some pugged players, we had some trouble because there were two people who were really, really sick. Just so happens that it was the main tank and his healer (me).
I can't say who was in a greater fog, but I'm not sure it mattered. He kept forgetting to use certain abilities that enable tanks to, well, tank. And I was so out of it I never even noticed I was in the fire until I couldn't cast anymore..."Hey, I died, how did that happen?"
The run was a failure, and DPS types were talking to us over vent as if we were complete idiots. We apologized and said that we just needed to get off and let everyone else find a way to succeed without us.
I felt so bad, but also angry. I guess raiding has become a business, or just a job, where there is no mercy shown to those who get sick and no allowed time off without attaching a social stigma to those persons.
Let me phrase my question this way: Are you cold blooded or do you have a heart?
I'm curious. My own experience tells me that many are unforgiving, but my experience is narrow and only mine. What about you? Would you show your understanding or rail against the sickos in cold-blood?
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