Board Games and True Colors

One of my favorite things about playing board games in real life is it reveals so much about who your friends are.  Online does not quite have the same satisfaction.  When things get competitive and the game is on the line, you start to see people's true colors.  The quite friend who brought cookies and is really nice?  She's the one who will be yelling at you about rules violations.  The really nerdy guy who acts like a know it all? He'll crumble under the pressure of Trivial Pursuit.  With all this in mind, here are a list of gamers I've experienced in my life.

THE PURIST

This is the guy who plays Monopoly by the actual rules.  He is willing to sit there forever, and he will often drag the rest of the party with him, in order to insure that the rules are being adhered to.

He can be your best friend if someone is trying to pull a fast one, but he can also be the stingy guy who just can't let it slide.  Someone will say "How about we play to 8 points instead of 10..."  before the words even exit their mouth, The Pursuit springs to life, "BLASPHEMY!!!"  And the room breaks into an uproar.

THE ARROGANT GUY

This guy knows the game.  In fact, he's played it a million times before.  Just ask him.  He is usually the guy who brings a new game to the party because it will be fun, but in reality he plans on decimating everyone with his experienced advantage.

Every group needs an Arrogant Guy.  He is the ideal antagonist.  Sure, winning is a pursuit in itself, but when you are responsible for defeating the guy in the room who has been telling all night how he is going to kick your ass? That's the best feeling.

THE QUIET ONE

Always look out for the quiet one.  They're the one who rarely speaks up or let on what they're strategy is.  They sit quietly, holding their cards, waiting for their turn to strike.  In poker, they have the best poker face.

They're also the one that comes out of the woodwork at the end and crush you.  Even worse, you never saw it coming.  They are a silent assassin.  Keep an eye out for the quiet one at the table.  Just as the Arrogant Guy is built to fall, the quiet one is built to rise.

THE GAMBLER OR DRINKER

This person can often be found flying Coach on their way back from Las Vegas.  He is the one trying to figure out a way to change the game so there is money involved.  Even if there isn't money involved, he'll be the first one to say, "Hey, can we turn this into a drinking game?"

Be careful sitting next to this guy, or you'll be the one conned into plenty of, "I bet so-and-so attacks Kamchatka on their next turn..."  Even if you don't say a word in response, they will still remind you for weeks that you owe them $10 for that bet.

THE QUITTER

This person sucks.  They are the person who realizes they have no chance, so they bail.  Worse yet, they love to make a scene about it.

Everyone could be having a great time, and then the Quitter chimes in with, "This is stupid."  The Quitter will almost always try to coral others into quitting too.  Suck it up people.  You win some, you lose some.  They often do not get along with The Purist.


There are several other permutations of gamers in this world, and I encourage you to go find them out.  Everyone has their quirks when things get competitive, and it's one of the greatest things in the world to discover them.

The Sales Ritual

I work in film, and one of the things I do on a daily basis is pitch ideas.  I pitch ideas for stories. I pitch ideas for actors.  I even have to pitch ideas for crew members.  At the root of it, pitching is purely sales. I walk into a room, and it is my job to sell my idea to everyone else in order for me to get what I want.  Even if I wasn't working in film, sales still exists.  On a Friday night, you and a group of buddies decide to go see a movie.  The instant someone opens up Fandango and starts listing movies, they are selling.  What order do they list them in?  Do they say, "Oooh, this one has so-and-so in it!" Or do they bring up a review they recently read.  In that moment, we are all salesman.

Game Night is no different.  At my house, someone is usually asked to go to the game cupboard an pull out a few games.  This is a big responsibility.  In this moment, that person has their very first chance to sell what game they want to play.  Much like in the American cinema classic Tommy Boy, it takes a little while for everyone to discover their own technique.

THE QUESTIONER GUY

This is the person who will never offer up their own opinion.  When they're asked to grab a board game out of the closet, it is immediately met with, "Well, what do you guys want to play?"

Worse yet, the questioner will remain disappointed by an eventual decision.  When there is a group consensus on the other end, they will finally offer up their own disdain.  It's a double edged sword.  They are often agreeable, but can be a nightmare to negotiate with.

GRABS EVERYTHING GUY

This is the guy who goes to the game closet and comes back with 20 options.  Your first thought is always, "How on earth did he carry all those games?"

Kind of like the questioner, grabs everything guy is incredibly indecisive.  Rather than ask you questions though, he will go through and pitch every. single. game. to the point where you don't even know if you want to play a game anymore.  Though you now have knowledge of 10 game son your shelf you did not know existed.

THERE WILL BE NO OTHER CHOICE GUY

This is the guy who grabs RISK.  He comes back from the game closet, and before you even know it, the pieces are laid out and everything is ready for you to play.  You never had a chance to debate.

The next thing you know, it is seven hours later, and you are still holding fast in Western Australia, praying for the sun to rise and negotiating territories for bathroom breaks.

THE OTHERS

Within each sales technique, there are sub categories.  You'll have the "Always wants to try a new game" guy, or conversely the "Plays exclusively the classics" guy.  You'll have the "Is there a way we can play this for money" guy, and then you'll have the "This is a great learning opportunity" guy.

I'll go into more details on the types of gamers, but this post is all about the sales ritual.  At some point in your life, you will be responsible to sell a game on game night.  What strategy will you use?

Grandma Joins Facebook

I'm not very old.  Not by any real standards unless you're a kindergarten class and I am your substitute teacher.  So, for the most part, everyone I meet is older than me.  But the age gap is a wonderful thing. In this case, by gap I mean chasm, or fjord. I don’t actually know what a fjord is, but the internet says it is a steep valley carved by glaciers. Go figure. Anyways, the age gap is a big one.

Yesterday, my Grandmother celebrated her 82nd birthday, which makes her slightly older than me.  Four days ago, my Grandma celebrated another milestone: she joined Facebook.  Hiyoooo! Hold onto your hats folks at home, Grandma is taking the world by storm!!!

With the help of my Dad, my Grandma joined the internet, and when I called her on the phone to wish her a happy birthday we started talking about her new frontier. (She couldn’t remember what it was called, but we figured “Facebook” out eventually)

My Grandma has 9 children, 35 grandchildren, and even more great-children. Although large in number, many of these family members do not live near her. While we are all judicious about making phone calls and seeing her on vacation, there is still a distance.  Furthermore, she is a devout Christian, a retired school teacher, and she absolutely LOVES Scrabble. I believe she is the greatest influence on my love for the game.

While on the phone, she brought up that she joined Facebook specifically so she could play Scrabble with her family.  I thought this was absolutely beautiful, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as she described how difficult it was for her to figure out how to push the “buttons” (keys on a keyboard), and open the “board game” (Internet Explorer).  I’ve heard these kind of geriatric-tecnology-struggles stories from others, but I did not realize how real this problem could be.  I did not find it as a problem.  In fact, I found it quite adorable.  I had a chance to teach a game to the very woman who taught me.

Once the game started, I found humor in the generation gap and her technological handicap, but I was also reminded of why any Grandma really can be hilarious.  Beyond a simple skills advantage and vocabularic (sp?) superiority, my Grandma still retained the distinct advantage of simply being my grandmother.

When you play your Grandma in Scrabble, it tends to work out such that you can score a lot of points, but you’ll have to play a dirty word to do it, so you settle for something worth less points but more appropriate.  (Instead of “Dildos” for 55 points, I will play “Sold” for 10 points and retain my dignity) Of course, on your Gramma’s next turn she’ll play a word like “Fart” or “Ass” and then you’ll feel like an idiot.  So, it was only fitting that when my Grandma invited me to play a game with her online, her opening move was “Sexual” for 30 points.

With such an apt foray into the internet Grandma, you may be 82 years old, but you’re always welcome here.

A Brief Rant

Not cool bro.  Totally not cool.  There is some bad mojo pulsing through the board game community, and it is not sitting alright with me.  Just in time for the holiday season, iPhone app juggernaut Zynga overstepped it's bounds.  It was all fun and games when Zynga was busy stealing content and dominating the cellular games market.  Their arsenal of games includes "Words with Friends" and "Draw Something" among others.  The marvelous characteristic about these two games, however, is their originality social networking.

Zynga's game design model is built almost entirely around copying already successful games and fitting them into their marketing machine.  "Words with Friends"is a blatant rip-off of Scrabble and "Draw Something" is a blatant rip-off of Pictionary.  What Zynga lacks in originality though, they make up for in aggressive marketing an luring their players in through social networking.

Given my lack of interest in iPhone games, this was all fine and dandy.  I wasn't about to get all fired up because some conglomerate of pissed-off nerds found a way to game the iPhone app store.  They chose a digital life of piracy, and I was content to let them live it.  Then they did this: Words with Friends the Board Game and Draw Something the Board Game.  Wait...what?

Scrabble is a real-life game that dates back decades, and I've already discussed its legend and lore.  Now, all of a sudden, Word with Friends wants to enter the real board game arena?  The same can be said for Pictionary and Draw Something.  What gives?  You already stole their idea and presented it in a cheap online format, why did you have to go and sodomize their real life market?

Okay,  maybe it's not so bad.  After all, taking the games into real life does encourage the face to face camaraderie that I love.  It actually does cherish the in-person contact that we all should enjoy and embrace.  But why not Scrabble? When I read game reviews that highlight its great use in teh classroom for spelling and math, I can't help but wonder, "Why on earth don't you teachers know that Scrabble already exists?"  Which may be a bad sign.  What if people really don't know it exists?

To make matters worse, or slightly more ominous, Zynga teamed up with Hasbro to create the Words with Friends Board Game.  That's right, the same Hasbro that makes and sells Scrabble now makes and sells Words with Friends.  What scares me is that they made this business decision for a reason.  They realized that people weren't interested in put-lettered-tiles-on-a-board-to-make-words-and-score-points games the old-fashioned way.  They had to find a new way to reach their audience.

I'm not saying this spells the end of Scrabble because it's a pretty difficult beast to kill.  I just don't take comfort in this new flashy young kid in teh game community.  It's almost like Houdini trying to compete with Criss Angel.  At the end of teh day, they're really accomplishing the same thing, but let's be real, Houdini did it first and did it better. Criss Angel just has a TV show.

Fight the good fight Scrabble, I'm sorry Words with Friends had to show up.

TRIFECTA

HELLO WORLD!

I could be anywhere right now.  I could be at the Grand Canyon; I could be at a Motel 6 in Omaha; I could be in the bathroom for all you know.  That’s my discovery of the day.  I can be whatever and wherever I want to be, and I am in complete an total control of that information.  I am a man in front of a green screen telling you, “We’re coming to you live from the war torn Gaza Strip” only to retreat to my 30 Rock dressing room for a massage once the cameras stop rolling.  Only, I have it easier.  All I have to do is coat my thoughts and opinions with enough rhetoric and prose to make you trust and believe where I am.  I don’t even need the fancy cameras.

Well, what a wonderful start!  I probably should have just started by saying, “Hey everybody, I’m full of shit,” but I think we (All three of us, Hi Mom!) can agree that wouldn’t be very much fun.  In reality, I am sitting up in my bed now, but that’s not important.  What is important is that my portal for communicating with you is a series of keystrokes that I enter into an antiquated laptop screen (antiquated now applies to anything more than three years old).  I am the author, editor, publisher, and (if for whatever reason you’re reading this) marketing director.  I control all means of information and delivery.  I could say 2+2=5, and that would be a fact in my book.  My ability to lace opinion with biases and loose facts segues me awkwardly into my next point.

Even though I am not at a Motel 6 or the Grand Canyon, I could be. In fact, I might as well be. That’s the beauty of it. A moment I like to refer to as...wait for it...The Day the Board Games Died. Yes, that just happened. It’s like when the guy in the movie says the name of the movie in the movie. Hell. Yes. The Day the Board Games died is a curious moment in our generation when any and all elements of our human connection started to move online. Our conversations, our moments, our thoughts, and eventually, our games moved online. We stopped looking each other in the eye when we stopped to talk, and then we stopped talking altogether.

Our conversations often contain that beautifully awkward benchmark where our phone vibrates in our pocket and we instantly grow anxious. “Why the hell am I listening to you right now? I could have gotten a text/email/tweet/pinterest, or worse. I could have been tagged in a photo on Facebook in this brief window of time where I can save myself! Why did my friend bring a camera to Vegas?!? WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING?” Then we stopped taking a break to chat. Sadder yet, something inside of us still yearned for that human connection. So we turned to the only place we knew. The Internet.

I say “we” because I am guilty too. I am very comfortable sending text messages and tweeting from the safety of my bedroom (or cockroach-ridden motel room). But not Board Games. No. I love board games. I think they can test anything and everything wonderful about a person’s character. Someone wins (I usually do), and someone loses (the other guy), and I revel in that. I play for that moment. I play because for that brief evening we laughed, we competed, we yelled, we won, we lost, we may have cried, we may have fought, but in the end, we did it together. We rolled the dice. We drank the beer. The internet is trying to steal our moments. I won’t let it.

I’m taking back Game Night. I won’t let a benchmark of our humanity slip away. I want to beat you, and I want to look you in the eye when I do it. Who knows? If game night makes a comeback, phone calls might too. If phone calls make a comeback, maybe grabbing coffee will. And if grabbing coffee makes a comeback, maybe it won’t be so weird when I stand outside your window in a tan duster holding a boombox over my head playing Peter Gabriel (Say Anything, watch it).

 Hello World. I’m excited to be here. Now, let’s roll some dice.

PROFILE

This morning, I read about “A pack of matches on the back of the toilet” because one of my favorite blogs is 1000 Awesome Things written by Neil Pasricha.  Several years ago, Neil embarked on a journey to document all the awesome things about life. Okay, maybe not all the things, but at least the top 1000 (pretty close). Each day, Neil would document an awesome aspect of human life, ranging from "The Take a Penny, Leave a Penny Bowl", "The Smell of Play-Doh", "Old People Pants", to everything in between.  From the outset, Neil combats cynicism by exploring the world to find crazy things that make people laugh and smile.  He treats each subject with a rhetoric that engages his reader.  At no point in his blog does he claim or pretend to be an academic, but rather just a guy from Toronto, Canada who documents the human experience, one awesome thing at a time.

Neil started the blog on June 20, 2008 with a post titled "Broccoflower", and since then he has blogged almost every single day on a myriad of topics.  Some of his posts are only a sentence long while others can go on for a thousand words or more, delving into deep detail about the topic.  Each post, however, often elicits the response, "You're right! I totally never thought of it like that!" from the reader (At least, that’s how I feel).  In addition, a staple of his blog is that he ends every single post by weaving his concluding sentence into the word "AWESOME!"  

Neil completed his list on April 19, 2012 with a post titled "Anything you want it to be", and it is the only post that is entirely blank.  A perfect ending.  Over the course of almost four years, the blog took on a life of its own.  It's popularity exploded, and it even lead to two books being published titled The Book of Awesome, and The Book of (Even More) Awesome.  There was a massive following of people that participated in the comments section, some even contributing their own ideas.  As everyone sat on pins and needles to find out what was next and what was going to be number one, Neil made it very clear that the list no longer belonged to him.  He shared his thoughts with the world knowing full well that there were only so many numbers remaining.  This is perhaps what I find most fascinating about this blog.  There was comfort in its finality.

While most blogs can just go on and on forever, offering a new perspective daily, I knew 1000 Awesome Things was going to end.  I knew that at some point there would not be another post, and I enjoyed that.  I enjoyed that after enjoying the blog day-to-day, I would turn the last page and there would be no more.  I know I’m not the only one who loves to read top-ten lists.  Neil gave us a top-one thousand.  He documented the human experience better than almost any academic I have ever witnessed because he chose to look at the big and small things that make everyday personal, not trivial. At the same time, he looked at the big and small things all people have in common.  In my blog I have a loose sense of nostalgia for old forms of communication, and I am trying to understand the way the human experience changes when it moves online.  1000 Awesome Things is built on nostalgia.  Neil explores his childhood, and at the same time, he explores mine.

I won't be updating my blog daily, nor do I expect to garner the same following, but there is a lot to learn from 1000 Awesome Things. It is easy to get caught behind a singular mind trying to combat the forces of deteriorating human connection, but I need to maintain a wide perspective.  Just because my opinion can appear predominantly cynical, when I open my eyes I can still take into account that the world really is AWESOME!

VOICE CRITIQUE

It's a bit of a challenge for me to find a blog that is on the same topic as The Day the Board Games Died.  I usually walk a line between writing about online social networks and board games, but there aren't many others out there drawing similar comparisons.  But hey, we can't all enjoy trying to catch a greased watermelon in a swimming pool, right?  So anyways, I'm going to take a look at the blog Gaming With Chuck.  Why? Because when I went on a search for social network related blogs, I found a lot of prosaic malarkey strewn with a few angst ridden teenagers wanting me to look at their tumblr and be friends with them on Beebo.  Is that last sentence true? No, but once again, I digress.

So, Gaming With Chuck, how did we meet? Google. You had an inviting blog title.  So, in that sense, the voice analysis starts here: Nice title Chuck. You didn't say, "Games with Charles", or "Charles Gaming Emporium", or "Wednesdays with Charlie", all potential titles for Mitch Albom tribute novels.  (They have to start somewhere) You used your own nickname, and you invited me to read as if you yourself were inviting me to play a game with you.  So, I clicked the link and started reading.

Wowzers! You really like board games!  That's awesome! Even more so, you look to understand board games in an academic and explorative fashion.  Simply playing a board game does not suffice, you delve deep into enhancing the board game experience.  In calm prose, you provide an informative and self-reflexive look at board games.  One of your posts takes a look at Edgar Allan Poe in Music and Gaming.  Woah!  That title is smart. The post goes on to take an investigatory look at what exactly the title suggests.

I like to think of you Chuck as a documentary filmmaker.  There are a couple different types: there are the Michael Moores that center themselves as a character in their films, and then there are Warren Millers who loosely dangle themselves in the film as commentators, and then there are ethnographic filmmakers who desperately try to remain entirely omniscient, remaining an outside observer to reality.  You, Chuck, flirt between the two latter.  You choose to write almost entirely in third-person, which makes you more of an informant.  You provide insight: "Poe was an incredible influence on H. P. Lovecraft, who has had a huge impact on gaming", but you ground them in further support, "Robert Bloch (yes, the Robert Bloch that wrote the story used for the Alfred Hitchcock movie Psycho, amongst other horror tales) wrote a very interesting comparison of the two men."  I trust you Chuck; you're not inundating the story with your opinion.

That said, your opinion is still visible.  You pose rhetorical questions as a method of communicating your own chain of thought: "All by Edgar Allan Poe, but how has Poe affected and influenced gaming?"  Other posts aren't necessarily as academic, some even delve into first-person, but you still carry a necessary honesty.  There is no heavy inflection or bias, but more a presentation of facts.  You are the Edward R. Murrow of board games.  I think it would be fun to find us a high-strung Joe McCarthy condemning 12-sided dice as the devil in our living rooms.  In your featurette "Wargame Wednesdays" you provide a thorough breakdown of the actual gameplay experience before providing any type of editorial of your own.  Thank you for your patience.

So, Chuck, here's to you shaker of the dice, weaver of the roads, and tallier of the scores.  Your passion for games is obvious.  You treat them almost like people.  Withholding judgement and giving them time to breath.  You put wooden pencil to paper, tallying scores, and then you put hardened fingers to keyboards, reporting the news. The games may be foreign, but you take the time to make them feel at home.

Gaming With Chuck

It's a bit of a challenge for me to find a blog that is on the same topic as The Day the Board Games Died.  I usually walk a line between writing about online social networks and board games, but there aren't many others out there drawing similar comparisons.  But hey, we can't all enjoy trying to catch a greased watermelon in a swimming pool, amirite?  So anyways, I'm going to take a look at the blog Gaming With Chuck for the purposes of this Voice Post.  Why? Because when I went on a search for social network related blogs, I found a lot of malarkey strewn with a few angst ridden teenagers wanting me to look at their tumblr and be friends with them on Beebo.  Is that last sentence true? No.

The guy next door is watching Frosty the Snowman. I love October.  So, Chuck, not Charles or Charlie, or even "Chaz".  Though it does make me long for a friend named Chaz.  "Chaz"...I'm going to file that away under potential baby names if I'm old enough, famous enough, and rich enough to not give a shit.  Baby Chaz.  Future hall of fame shortstop for the Florida Marlins.  That way I can watch him by driving my golf cart from my retirement community in Miami where I plan to finally hone my skills at Backgammon.  Maybe Chuck can help me.

So, Gaming With Chuck, how did we meet? Google. And you had an inviting blog title.  So, in that sense, the voice analysis starts here: Nice title Chuck. You didn't say, "Games with Charles", or "Charles Gaming Emporium", or "Wednesdays with Charlie", all potential titles for Mitch Albom tribute novels.  (They have to start somewhere) You used your own nickname, and you invited me to read as if you yourself were inviting me to play a game with you.  So, I clicked the link and started reading.

Wowzers! You really like board games!  That's awesome! Even more so, you look to understand board games in an academic and explorative fashion.  Simply playing a board game does not suffice, you delve deep into enhancing the board game experience.  In calm prose, you provide an informative and self-reflexive look at board games.  One of your posts takes a look at Edgar Allan Poe in Music and Gaming.  Woah!  That title is smart. I definitely think you look at board games on an all new level.  The post goes on to take an investigatory look at what exactly the title suggests.

I like to think of you Chuck as a documentary filmmaker.  There are a couple different types: there are the Michael Moores that center themselves as a character in their films, and then there are Warren Millers who loosely dangle themselves in the film as commentators, and then there are ethnographic filmmakers who desperately try to remain entirely omniscient, remaining an outside observer to reality.  

You, Chuck, flirt between the two latter.  You choose to write almost entirely in third-person, which makes you more of an informant.  You provide insight: "Poe was an incredible influence on H. P. Lovecraft, who has had a huge impact on gaming", but you ground them in further support, "Robert Bloch (yes, the Robert Bloch that wrote the story used for the Alfred Hitchcock movie Psycho, amongst other horror tales) wrote a very interesting comparison of the two men."  I trust you Chuck; you're not inundating the story with your opinion.

That said, I can tell you still have an opinion.  You pose rhetorical questions as a method of communicating your own chain of thought: "All by Edgar Allan Poe, but how has Poe affected and influenced gaming?"  Other posts aren't necessarily as academic, some even delve into first-person, but you still carry a necessary honesty.  There is no heavy inflection or opinion, but more a presentation of facts.  You are the Edward R. Murrow of board games.  I think it would be worthwhile to find us a high-strung Joe McCarthy condemning 12-sided dice as the devil in our living rooms.  In your featurette "Wargame Wednesdays" you provide a thorough breakdown of the actual gameplay experience before providing any type of editorial of your own.  Thank you for your patience.

So, Chuck, here's to you shaker of the dice, weaver of the roads, and tallier of the scores.  Your passion for games is obvious.  You treat them almost like people.  Withholding judgement and given them time to breath.  You put wooden pencil to paper, tallying scores, and then you put hardened fingers to keyboards, reporting the news. The games may be foreign, but you take the time to make them feel at home.

1000 Awesome Things

One of my favorite blogs is 1000 Awesome Things written by Neil Pasricha.  Several years ago, Neil embarked on a journey to document all the awesome things about life. Okay, maybe not all the things, but at least the top 1000. Each day, Neil would document an awesome aspect of human life, ranging from "The Take a Penny, Leave a Penny Bowl", "The Smell of Play-Doh", "Old People Pants", and everything in between.  From the outset, Neil combats cynicism by exploring the world to find crazy things that make people laugh and smile, and he treats it with a rhetoric that engages his reader.  At no point in his blog does he claim or pretend to be an academic, but rather just a guy from Toronto, Canada who documents the human experience, one awesome thing at a time.

Neil started the blog on June 20, 2008 with a post titled "Broccoflower", and since then he has blogged almost every single day on a myriad of topics.  Some of his posts are only a sentence long while others can go out for a thousand words are more, delving into deep detail about the topic.  Each post, however, often elicits the response, "You're right! I totally never thought of it like that!" from the reader.  In addition, a staple of his blog is that he ends every single post by weaving his concluding sentence into the word "AWESOME!"  Neil completed his list on April 19, 2012 with a post titled "Anything you want it to be", and it is the only post that is entirely blank.

Neil found a perfect ending.  Over the course of almost four years, the blog took on a life of its own.  It's popularity exploded, and it even lead to two books being published titled The Book of Awesome.  There was a massive following of people that contributed in the comments section, some even contributing their own ideas.  As everyone sat on pins and needles to find out what was number one, Neil made it very clear that the list no longer belonged to him.  He shared it with the world.  This is perhaps what I find most fascinating about this blog.  There was comfort in its finality.

While most blogs can just go on and on forever, offering a new perspective daily, I knew 1000 Awesome Things was going to end.  I knew that at some point, there would not be another post, and I enjoyed that.  I enjoyed that at some point, I would turn the last page and there would be no more. Neil documented the human experience better than almost any academic I have ever witnessed because he chose to look at the big and small things that make everyday unique. At the same time, he looked at the big and small things that made us all relate.  In my blog, I am trying to understand the way the human experience changes when it moves online with a loose sense of nostalgia for old forms of communication.  1000 Awesome Things is built on nostalgia.  Neil explores his childhood, and at the same time he explores mine.

I won't be updating my blog nearly as much, nor do I expect to garner the same following, but there is a lot to learn from 1000 Awesome Things. It is easy to get caught behind a singular mind trying to combat the forces of deteriorating human connection, but I need to maintain a wide perspective.  Just because my opinion can appear predominantly cynical, when I open my eyes I can still take into account that the world really is AWESOME!

The People at r/BoardGames

While perusing the familiar website social networking site Reddit the other day (News Site? Community Organization?), I came across a subreddit for Board Games.  It was pretty straightforward, I mean, they called themselves r/boardgames.  I suppose "they" is a bit of a loose term though.  At no point was there any sort of democratic process where "they" selected their name, but alas this is not an investigation into the history of r/BoardGames and its origins.  This is a look at their conversation.

Reddit works in a fashion where people can "upvote" posts that they like and "downvote" things that they don't want to see.  I'm going to trust my audience knows enough about Reddit that I don't need to explain further, but what I will do is point to my method for understanding r/BoardGames.  In order to understand the general culture of any subreddit, I will take a look at their all-time top posts.  In r/BoardGames, the majority of their top posts center round the game Settlers of Catan.  Beyond just Settlers there is a clear preference for modern games with an emphasis on strategy and complexity.  While my favorite board game is Scrabble, which I have probably made pretty clear at this point, Settlers holds a special place in my heart.  Why? Because I'm really good at it.  That is until the American version screwed me over.

Settlers of Catan in association with Carcassonne and a few other European games introduced me to a new world of complicated and innovative board games.  I grew up playing Scrabble and Monopoly, you know, the classics.  These new games challenged me in a new way.  I lived in Germany at the time, so my family became avid Settlers fans, and I have been honing my skills for nearly 12 years.  Then, I played for the first time with a bunch of Americans.  They wanted to use their board, and I though there would be no problems. Whoops.

First, there was a language hurdle.  I had to learn what certain things were called in English, not because I don't speak English, but within the game there is effectively a new language.  That was fine.  I caught on quickly, and it did not affect my German-born strategy.  There were some gameplay changes that hindered me.  I couldn't build when I wanted to, and the game moved slower.  My aggressive building and trading strategy was regularly interrupted by bullshit rules that were foreign to me.  Even with all those challenges, I still put myself in a position to win.  Me being me, I set myself up for a dramatic victory.  The pieces were aligned, and nobody knew what was about to hit them.  BOOM!!! I flipped over my "Siegpunkt" or "Victory Point" auf Englisch.  The game was mine.  But wait...my friend protested.  The malarkey American rules prohibited my final maneuver.  I never got another chance at drama.  They stripped me of my medal.

Let's just say, I know what you're going through Lance Armstrong, Settlers can be a bit of a sore subject among my American friends, but I welcome it with open arms when we use my familiar language at home.  So, r/BoardGames, you're alright.  You're into some cool shit, and I might just have to stick around a little longer.  I just really hope you don't end up being a bunch of elitist board game fans because Scrabble is still #1 in my heart, and I'll even play it in English.

Daily Double

Howdy there reader!  My name is [...] and it has been 10 days since my last post.  I know, I know, you have been sitting on pins and needles waiting for the next Board Games post, and I am here to deliver.  I apologize in advance though, I fear this might turn into a sprawling, loosely anecdotal, borderline incoherent attempt at satisfying a word limit.  This blog has become a chore, an assignment.  At first, I was fascinated by my topic and by the open forum where I could write about it uninhibited, but alas the steam and motivation is gone.  The secondary reason I sat down to write is gone (the first reason is genuinely because this was a class assignment).  I don't care anymore.  This blog is an embodiment of what I am writing about.  I have become responsible for an online connection to nobody, but I carry the weight of a final exam with every keystroke.

I don't like that I have to write 500-750 words every week.  I don't like that I write 500-750 words every week because I am told to.  It is the same reason I did not like Animal Farm when I read it for a class assignment.  When I read it four years later on my own time, I loved it.  I was uninhibited.  I got to play and dance with George Orwell's words, and it belonged exclusively to the two of us.  If I wanted to share my opinions, I could.  If I didn't want to, it didn't matter.  Reading was safe.  It belonged to me.  It was not regimented or required.  It was not examined and tested.  Writing is not all that different.

I understand that writing for assignments is part of any course.  It is typical of every class I have ever taken, and I accept that.  I accept that there is a time and place where it is appropriate for me to fulfill class requirements by way of writing.  What bothers me about blogging for a class, however, is that it awkwardly walks a line between free-writing and classwork.  I'm not being graded so-to-speak.  I don't get my blog returned to me after 10 days with red pen markings and notes.  I don't know what makes one blog post better than another, and that is liberating.  I am free to write.  I still however, am required to write.  I am expected to complete a blog post every week that may or may not ever get read.  I'm pretty sure my parents never had this problem.  If they had to write an assignment they turned it in to a professor or TA or a mailbox.  At least they had the option of believing that someone would read it.  I actually know whether or not anyone is reading this.

Somewhere amidst this incoherent rambling is a point, and I'm getting to it, I think.  I like my topic, but I don't like this blog.  I don't like that I have very little idea whether or not I am doing well in this blog, or that there is some sort of benchmark, or that there is even some level of grading for what I am writing.  If a teacher gives me an assignment, I like that there is some sort of concrete feedback system.  I failed, or I passed, or I excelled.  Every time I hit "publish", I am submitting these thoughts into an empty "blogosphere" that is neither educational or academic.  It has sadly fallen to a similar fate of a math homework assignment in 4th grade.  I'm just doing this to get it done, and there is nothing liberating about that.

David Doesn't Do Drugs

My finger hovers over the mouse.  Or the touchpad.  Irrelevant.  The device I am using is somewhat innocuous, but the situation is the same.  My finger is hovering over some device that has the ability to click, and it is what I am hesitating to click on that carries all the weight.  My finger itself does not weigh all that much, in fact gravity has a relatively minimal effect on my finger, hence my ability to hover it over the clickable device, but all this information is ultimately irrelevant because my finger is hovering over a clickable device waiting to click (or not to click) on a phrase that reads "deactivate".  I chicken out.  This is all because of a conversation I had with a friend of mine who I will refer to as "David" for the duration of this post to protect his anonymity.  For anonymity is a ultimately the beauty that he embraces where I cannot.  Well done David, today's post is about you.

David does not have a Facebook. *GHASP* I know, right?  No Facebook.  All the questions that start running through my head became a scrolling diatribe of some of the most shallow thoughts I've ever had.  All of a sudden my shock takes an awkward journey to horror then confusion, but ultimately settling on envy.  David beat the system.  He is not cool or un-cool, he is a-cool.  He transcended what I sadly believe is a social requirement, and yet he is one of the most emotionally in-tune and aware people I know.  All without having to glance at Facebook.  He is a pro at holding a conversation.  He makes me believe everything I'm saying is the most important thing in the world.  He listens, he asks questions, and he genuinely cares.  Surely someone can have this pure character element even with a Facebook, but I don't think that's necessarily true.  He explained it very aptly.

"I used to have a Facebook," he confessed, "but I deactivated it for the summer and found myself not missing it when summer ended."  Here he is, two months later, Facebook-less and do I ever envy him.  He went on to describe how it was just wasting his time, and he wasn't really getting much out of it given the time he was putting into it.  I think his next point, however, is what really sticks with me.  It is why I really envy him.  He claims he knew too much.  I asked him to explain.  He knew too much about people without ever having to get to know them.  He is right.

The more I thought about it, the scary that thought became.  I don't have to get to know people because it is easy enough for me to look up their likes/dislikes/interests/vacations/family/job on their Facebook page.  If I ever have real life conversations with people, rather than spend the time asking them questions and getting to know them, there is an apprehension that I might volunteer information that I already know but shouldn't.  It's a weird feeling.  And yes, this is my confession that I "creep" on Facebook, but I don't do it to any sort of excess.  I also can admit it because I can almost guarantee that everyone does it, so get off your moral high horse.  The reason we "creep", however is because we secretly are fascinated with getting to know people, but we just found a safer way to do it.

David's got some big balls.  He wants to get to know people, but he knows how to do it by the book.  the real book.  He embodies the dream of The Day the Board Games Died.  I'm not going to stand on a pulpit and telling the world to start shutting down their Facebook.  It won't happen.  But I hope one day I get the cajones to do what David did.  I want to let my finger click on "Deactivate".  I want to walk away.  I lie and say that I can whenever, but I can't.  Facebook, it's a hell of a drug.  It's the kind of drug that gives me too much access to the world, and somehow I'm left with so little to discover.  Let's talk for real.  I want to know everything there is to know about you, but I just want you to tell me.  I want to listen. Come on gravity, I need you now more than ever.

Millenials

     I work as the lighting guy at an event center.  This affords me the opportunity to casually witness a number of events that we host.  The events range from rock concerts, to luncheons, to conferences, and more.  For the most part, however, these events are a wonderful test of my ability to maintain any relative level interest in the mundane.  (I think I have witnessed roughly 20 "Leadership" conferences/luncheons/brunches/gymborees this year, SPOILER ALERT: They're all exactly the same)  Today, I am sitting through another "Leadership" conference.

     The lights look great - they always do - but my awesomeness is not the point.  One of the individuals speaking today is presenting the "Millenial" generation, and I am quite fascinated.  He defines "Millenials" as the generation of individuals born after 1982, sometimes referred to as Generation Y.  Wait a second, that's me!  What's this old guy know about me?  Here are what he refers to as the seven characteristics of our generation:

SPECIAL

Damn right I'm special!  Okay, maybe not.  In fact, the majority of us aren't the best at something; we probably aren't even above average.  Mathematically, the majority of us are just average.  The presenter highlights the desire for constant positive-feedback, and I couldn't agree more.  I consider it an epidemic.  When everybody gets a trophy, it stifles competitive spirit.

SHELTERED

I had to take a break form writing because I was busy eating banana bread that my mom sent me in the mail.  Did I actually take a break from writing? No.  Does my mom occasionally send me baked goods in the mail? Yes.  I fully acknowledge that I am part of a sheltered generation, and I will not dispute that.  I think it lives hand-in-hand with being "Special".  It renders us afraid of risk-taking, and any activity that might leave us vulnerable.  He makes a strong point that, "We want privacy, but what we really want is attention."

CONFIDENT

I am unabashedly writing a blog that features awkwardly honest descriptions of my life, as well as my perceptions of others.  I am not the only one that does this.  Everyday, we boldly proclaim our opinions online. Much like the Honey Badger, some of us just don't give a shit.

TEAM-ORIENTED

The speaker is talking mostly in respect to being team-orineted in a business environment.  I agree in so much as we believe that our opinions are equal, and we want to be treated as such.  I disagree, however, because I believe our generation has a strong inclination towards personal success.  Although we may rely on a team, there is a strong desire to be the best and to assert one's self.  The competitive nature of college admissions is one example wherein each person is striving to distinguish themselves.

ACHIEVING

Achieving links closely to his "Special" characteristic.  Given an upbringing that cultivates through positive-reinforcement and sometimes false approval, there is an ever present desire to seek positive reinforcement; it's like a drug addiction.  We got hooked on the optimism drug when we were young, so we are forever trying to achieve feats to regain that euphoria.

PRESSURED

The speaker places particular emphasis on our overloading our schedules, and multitasking.  I have a blog post due at 5 PM, which I am writing while at work where I am listening to a speaker while monitoring the lighting in the room.  In the meantime, I made two fantasy football trades and browsed the front page of Reddit.  Even though I don't acknowledge any "pressure", I can assure you that there is a subconscious fear of free time.  We feel pressure to be occupied and busy.

CONVENTIONAL

This is one particular characteristic that I do not agree with.  I believe our generation is incredibly unconventional.  We like to discover and learn, and our methods for approaching problems are always changing.  We do not adhere to a conventional set of instructions; we prefer to learn on our own.

     Although I did not agree with every point of his, I think he makes some very valid observations.  It's weird having someone explain your generation to you because my initial reaction is defensive, but then he pretty much nailed it.  He goes on to describe our generations desire to be constantly-connected, and how we don't know how to exist otherwise.  He is correct.

     What I found so fascinating about his presentation, however, is that it was not at all cynical.  In my blog, I take a look at our generation in a cynical and pseudo-nostaligic manner.  He made me look at it in a different light.  He explained that there is noting wrong with our generational differences and expectations.  He embraced the changing ways of communication, and he emphasized that even his generation must acknowledge that change.  My opinions about taking back game night remain unchanged, but I can't help but see a little more to the other argument.

      In light of today's discoveries, I think I'm going to watch You've Got Mail featuring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.  For the bold among you, however, I highly suggest the original Shop Around the Corner (1940) starring James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan.  The two films create an interesting look at generational changes in communication.  The same story but one with letters and the other with email, and pretty soon we'll have the next installment with text messaging featuring Zack Efron and Selena Gomez.  I can't wait.  And yes, I remain a little cynical.

Beautiful

Howdy Stranger!

The original first sentence of this post was, "I was reading an article on The Onion this morning, and I came across something interesting", but that sentence is really boring so I replaced it with this one.  So, anyways, I was reading an article on The Onion this morning, and I came across something interesting. (Definitely better as a second sentence)  Much like when Morpheus presented Neo either the Blue or Red pill, I will give you the same choice.  I have for you two links: the link to the article is here Article, and a link to a walrus playing saxophone is here Walrus.  Reading the Article will probably enrich you as a person, and might even make you chuckle.  Watching the Walrus will just make you chuckle and wonder why you haven't amounted to such feats of ingenuity.  Therein lies the decision: High chance of enlightenment with a low chance of chuckles or High chance of chuckles with a high chance of self-degradation.  For you article readers, stick around.

Drugs...

Now that we've taken the leap down the rabbit-hole, please allow me to respond to The Onion article: Nailed it.  First, however, I feel like I must frame The Onion.  As I hope we are aware, and by "we" I mean the 4 people who read this blog, The Onion is a satirical newspaper.  Artfully interlaced in their prose is a pseudo-cynical commentary about the topic at hand.  "Report: It's Not Okay To Just Start Talking To People You Don’t Know" tackles the issue of striking up conversations with strangers in everyday environments.  It goes on to vehemently oppose the idea, going so far as to consider people who strike up conversations "Assholes".  Wrapped in it's satire, I believe that the article is really about Fear.  It is so much easier to remain silent when around strangers, and the article is a condemnation as much as it is a challenge to people to consider their interactions with one another.  Before shit starts getting too real, I should probably make my weekly movie recommendation: Throw Momma from the Train featuring Danny DeVito and Billy Crystal. Anne Ramsey is lovely for all of you Goonies fans out there.

Such a pleasant lady

And...we're back. Fear. Strangers. Disco Fever. Now that we're late enough the post, I suppose I can actually say what the post is about.  The Onion article, if taken seriously, is sadly true but wholly incorrect. Not acknowledging strangers is exactly what imprisons us.  There was once a time where meeting new people was almost entirely dependent on our ability to hold discourse with strangers.  (Yo, yo, postmodern child getting all nostalgic up in here!)  Nowadays, there are so many other outlets.  I recently attended a conference where one of the speakers was literally Tweeting from the stage.  To me, that meant he was no present, he was not in the room with us.  He was elsewhere.  He was somewhere where he felt safe.  Striking up conversations with strangers is terrifying and makes us vulnerable.  Tweeting to an audience that is limited to 140 characters to reply is not.

To think they were strangers when the movie started...

So, my rant continues three posts later.  Talk to me.  Let's enjoy a little time.  I once took a train ride from Los Angeles to Chicago with a friend of mine.  It took 48 hours.  In that time we shared stories not only with each other, but with dozens of complete strangers.  The Navy couple from San Diego, the pitbull breeder from Albuquerque, and the scruffy potentially homeless stowaway from Gary, Indiana.  The Onion got the satire complete right because the message is so completely wrong.

That kid also narrates Arrested Development

This Blog Post is Late

Through a series of non sequiturs and occasionally incoherent rambling, my Hello World post posed the question, “What does it mean when our social interactions move online?” Well, here we are a little over a week later, and I have learned one fact: this blog post is late. That’s right, a whole two days late. This post should have been released by 5:00 PM on Friday, but here I am in the early afternoon on Sunday submitting this post. Not on time, no, late. Tardy, if you will. If I read the syllabus with the thoroughness that I should have, I would probably know that I am only going to receive half-credit for this post. But alas, I started this sentence with a conjunction. Also, I think this is a great time to make a movie recommendation: The Money Pit starring Tom Hanks and Shelley Long, but I digress.

Two Weeks.

 This post is late because of a popular dung heap I like to call Time Warner. I sat down at my laptop Friday afternoon, and I opened my World Wide Web browser and I received the wonderful “Connection Error” screen. “Hmm,” I thought to myself, “it appears that I have a full connection to the wireless network, but I do not have any internet.” It was just about that moment that I heard screams of agony from the neighboring room. Apparently one of my housemates was 2% away from successfully downloading the entire fourth season of the critically acclaimed television series The Twilight Zone when the internet decided to die. I know we’ve all been there. (I think it’s for the best anyway, the fourth season is where Rod Serling really started losing his marbles) So, I started another sentence with a conjunction. Right around that moment, I chuckled to myself. By virtue of losing the internet, I could not do my homework. Yes, there were alternative ways for me to find some internet and turn in the assignment, but that is not the point. Here I am, blogging about the implications of our social interactions moving online, and I am presented with the perfect predicament. Where we would once have to turn in a hard copy of our work to an actual professor or TA, maybe even exchange a glance or a few words, we are instead entering our work into an unforgiving, regimented box and clicking a button that we really have no basis to even trust. “Submit!”

Before & After: Rod Serling

Time Warner said they would come that evening to fix our internet problem, so I was excited because I now knew exactly what I wanted to blog about, albeit it a little late. The truck never showed. The next day they sent us what I will refer to as the Time Warner “B Team”. They didn’t have the right part in the truck. “The right part?” I wondered, “You drive around in a utility vehicle specifically equipped to fix cable and internet problems, but today you decided to not bring the whole tool kit?” It made me feel like I hired a plumber who doesn’t own a wrench. To make matters worse, we were out of Lemon Pledge. So here we are, Sunday, and the internet is back, and my post is late. Two days late. But it was strangely kind of cool not having internet. Don’t get me wrong, I love browsing the internet tubes as much as the next guy, but I had a nice long conversation with my roommate last night. It wasn’t anything emotional or deep, but it was an enjoyable conversation. One we haven’t had in a while. One that we probably wouldn’t have had if we had the wonder of the internet immediately at our fingertips.

I’m glad the internet is back; if for no other reason, I can finally do my homework. But I have to start another sentence with a conjunction. It was a two day vacation, and I’m not saying it was all great. The lackluster Verizon 3G on my phone let me know how many emails I was missing; there is a certain anxiety about turning in assignments late; I couldn’t watch “Gangnam Style” by PSY. All serious problems. When the internet came back, however, the world was still spinning. We survived. My housemate downloaded the final 2%, and I now get to submit this post as I listen to the foreboding opening theme of The Twilight Zone while Mr. Serling warns me that “I am traveling to another dimension”. More than you know Rod, more than you know.

Another Dimension Indeed...

Hello World!

I am writing today’s entry while sitting on the toilet. Alright! Now that I have probably lost half my audience and my Mom is the only one left reading (at least that’s what she’ll tell me) I have a confession to make: I am not actually sitting on the toilet. Nope, the toilet is nowhere near me. In fact, I haven’t had a bowel movement in a quite some time now. I am not incontinent. Rest assured, for those of you that may have been concerned, my bowels work just fine. I need to change the subject. I am finding it quite difficult to continue in any sort of scholarly direction given that I started our first entry by lying to you all and then assuring you that my bowels are okay. In fact, I just used the Ctrl-F “find” feature and discovered that my two most used words are “toilet” and “bowels”. If there’s anything that I learned from the FX hit TV Show The League, however, it’s that the majority of important phone conversations among men take place while sitting on the toilet. Which segues me so artfully into my next point.

The majority of the show, however, does not take place on a toilet.

Even though I am not sitting on the toilet as I write, I could be. In fact, I might as well be. That’s the beauty of it. A moment I like to refer to as...wait for it...The Day the Board Games Died. Yes, that just happened. It’s like when the guy in the movie says the name of the movie in the movie. Hell. Yes. The Day the Board Games died is a curious moment in our generation when any and all elements of our human connection started to move online. In a random pot luck order, our conversations, our moments, our thoughts, and eventually, our games moved online. We stopped looking each other in the eye when we stopped to talk. If we stopped to talk. Our conversations often contain that beautifully awkward benchmark where our phone vibrates in our pocket and we instantly grow anxious. “Why the hell am I listening to you right now? I could have gotten a text/email/tweet/pinterest, or worse. I could have been tagged in a photo on Facebook in this is that brief window of time where I can save myself! Why did my friend bring a camera to Vegas?!? WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING?” Then we stopped taking a break to chat. Sadder yet, when we stopped looking each other in the eye and having conversations, something inside of us still yearned for that human connection. So we turned to the only place we knew. The Internet.

I say “we” because I am guilty too. I am very comfortable sending text messages and tweeting from the safety of my room (or porcelain throne). But not Board Games. No. I love board games. I think they can test anything and everything wonderful about a person’s character. Someone wins (I usually do), and someone loses (the other guy), and I revel in that. I play for that moment. I play because for that brief evening we laughed, we competed, we yelled, we won, we lost, we may have cried, we may have fought, but in the end, we did it together. We rolled the dice. We drank the beer. The internet is trying to steal it. I won’t let it.

What victory looks like.

I’m taking back Game Night. I won’t let a benchmark of our humanity slip away. I want to beat you, and I want to look you in the eye when I do it. Who knows? If game night makes a comeback, phone calls might too. If phone calls make a comeback, maybe grabbing coffee will. And if grabbing coffee makes a comeback, maybe it won’t be so weird when I stand outside your window in a tan duster holding a boombox over my head playing Peter Gabriel (Say Anything, watch it).

Say Anything (1989)

 Hello World. I’m excited to be here. Now, let’s roll some dice.