The City Life (Or A Lack Thereof)

Life in the suburbs isn't so bad; There are things to do when I'm bored, and there's a decided lack of chaos when I want to relax. I've lived in the suburbs for my entire life (outside of the college excursion.) It's nice, it's simple, and I like it.

But man, have you been to the city? There are people and concerts and food and awesome.

I didn't really spend much time in the city until my college days (and since I was three hours from home, I was only able to take trips into Manhattan on long weekends or vacations), and even then it was generally just to go to a concert and then come right home. But things changed. Post-college I started an internship at a casual games company that had me taking the train in five days a week. Bryan had also recently moved into the city, so I'd hang out with him and he'd show me around every once in a while.

Then I started meeting college friends since it was the easiest place for everybody to go to. Then my friends started moving into the five boroughs. Then Mayra's friends started moving too. By this point my initial disinterest/disdain for the city had eroded into genuine enthusiasm. It's at the point these days where I'm thrilled to spend an evening eating at a whole in the wall, drinking at a dive bar, and wandering the streets.

I'm sounding like a regular member of the bridge and tunnel crowd now.

To go off on a tangent, I should mention that Bryan's a great guy. Have I mentioned this before? He is. One immediate (and related) example of how he's a nice guy is the way he's always letting me know that I can just crash at his place if I'm ever in the city. I had done it a few times when I was working down in Chinatown (I got a whole extra hour of sleep by doing that) but aside from those occasional times that I had planned ahead for, I never had any real crazy nights where I needed a place to stay.

Until the past couple of months, apparently.

On two separate occasions, I wound up having such a great time hopping around from place to place that I crashed at Bryan's when I had planned on coming home instead. The first night involved Dylan and I coming in for dinner on a work night and then hours later coming back home with just enough time to get breakfast and shower before going right back to work. The second night (weeks later) was a milestone, as Mayra was able to stay away from home for the first time in years. We got a little drunk at a party for her friends, grabbed some Papaya Dog, then stumbled back to Bryan's place at three in the morning. Needless to say, it was an awesome time (the morning after on the other hand...)

So anyway, last night Mayra and I were in the city for drinks with her friends yet again. This time, we were good kids and left early to catch the last train back home at around 1:30. And it kind of sucked.

And it's got me thinking: Why are we doing this? The night is just getting started around 12 or 1, and there's nothing worse than having a great time in the city and then having to dedicate an hour and a half to getting back home. Catching the train means missing the second round of drinks, the last act of a concert, or the late night snack. It means being the old folks who need to get home early (even if you still don't get home until late.) It means leaving the city that never sleeps and heading back to the city that went to sleep hours before.

Now I know I'm being silly - it's not like things are so bad here. My job is here. Many of my friends. My family lives here. I can afford the rent here!

And there are plenty of bars and late-night pizza places that are open until 4. It's not like the life of a twenty-something is boring here in the suburbs.

But it's not New York City.

Untalented fan-wankery

Why is it that fans of certain franchises always wind up being so terrible at being fans? I'm speaking specifically about videogames, but I think this is true for other mediums as well.

It's just so shocking to me how so many hardcore fanboys have no clue what makes the property they're into actually enjoyable. So often, you see fan projects or fan wishes for a specific game or a game series that are just so terribly contrary to what the game stands for.

The Legend of Zelda is a perfect example. Every Zelda fan game (or fake Zelda game, such as the one shown on the fake E3 listing that inspired this post: http://kotaku.com/5531964/speak+up-on-kotaku-fake-e3-leaks-dog-voting-bad-genres-and-retired-pirates/gallery/ ) has some terrible name to invoke dark imagery. Have you played Zelda? Yes, there are some darker elements to the series, but it's very clearly a positive and uplifting series. There are bright colors and cartoony characters. There is usually a cheerful sidekick who is both your guide as well as the comedy relief. Heck, friggin' Tingle exists, which should be proof enough that the standard gear for Zelda is "light-hearted."

And yet I just quickly pulled up titles of various Zelda fan projects and here's what I found:

• Hall of the Undead
• Child of Darkness
• The Fallen Sage
• Enfolding Chaos
• The Hyrule Wars

What's with all this darkness and falling? Did these people only play the dramatic moments of the games and ignore the remaining 90% where Link is an elven boy in a tunic milking cows and playing hide-and-go-seek with a bunch of school children?

I should mention that Kingdom Hearts and Pokemon are two other light-hearted series who have insane fans that somehow think they're in desperate need for sex, violence, and terrible revenge plots. (Although, beginning with Kingdom Hearts II, it seems that series has gone into full-on Square-Enix drama mode, so it's basically just going to be emo angst forever and ever and ever. Look for Mickey to be sporting eyeliner and contempt for his parents in Kingdom Hearts III!)

I'm probably being too hard on the fanboys, but when I hear some internet kid's dream of the perfect Zelda game (or another franchise whose fanboys suffer from this sickness) and the combat-heavy, dystopian God of War-clone that they want it to be, I can't help but feel like ranting.

Besides, if you want a derivative, dark-and-macho-to-the-point-of-parody Zelda-clone, you've already got Darksiders.

Birthdays, Plans, and Imagined Memories

It's currently 3:07 AM Sunday morning and I'm calling an official end to my birthday festivities. Things kicked off this past Thursday (my actual birthday) with a homemade pizza dinner with Mayra and my parents. We then went out to the downtown bars for a few drinks and wound up staying out way later than I had planned. A few hours later I was up for a day of work that I'm embarrassed to admit was a bit more of a blur than I would have liked. Friday evening I had a special dinner of sopes with Mayra's family and then passed out in Mayra's bed instead of going to the movies like we had planned. Today was the official "party," as people actually came by to celebrate and we did the whole huge dinner/opening presents thing.

Sure, Mayra and I are heading into Queens to grab some dinner with Terry and Micah tomorrow evening (okay, technically later tonight), so I could call that as part of the celebration, but I figure I shouldn't try and get greedy. I've had a real blast the past 72 hours and I think I'm good. I've had a great time with my family, had a blast with my friends, and been able to spend many hours with the woman I love. Couldn't ask for a better birthday.

I've decided that in my twenty-fifth year, I want to increase my creative output to the point where I actually output things I've created more often than "once or twice in a year if I'm lucky." I want to finish games, write stories, and God, do I ever wish I could draw again. I'm going to try and set aside more time for these forms of entertainment where all the fun is up to me, rather than relying so much on games, movies and books for prepared enjoyment. We'll see how this goes.

As I move past this (rather arbitrary) milestone and begin planning out what it means to me, it makes me think about how I dealt with the previous milestone of graduation from college and how I had imagined that would go. No real profound thoughts, just decompressing some things I've had in my head for ages.

I'll be honest by saying that I would occasionally day-dream about the idealized graduation scenario. I'd picture myself a little nervous but ultimately excited, Mayra by my side as I finished up my last remaining classes. I saw myself spending plenty of time with my friends, enjoying the last few weeks of our relatively consequence-free lifestyles. I could hear my family congratulating me as I met with them dressed in my cap and gown with my diploma in my hands. Things only became more romantic (I'm using that word in the classical sense) in my head when Mayra decided she would be studying abroad during my final semester at college, which meant she would be returning to the US just a few weeks before (or as I imagined it - just in time for) the end of my semester. I would go visit her during spring break and once she returned home she would come up and stay with me for the week leading up to graduation. I'd play these thoughts over and over again in my mind. It's a beautiful dream that's still vivid in my head to this very day.

Of course, it didn't happen like that at all. Yes, my family was there, but Bryan had accidentally planned out an overseas vacation at that time and had to miss my graduation weekend. Sure, I had plenty of time with my friends, but real life had claimed us far earlier than planned. And of course, Mayra wasn't there. She got sick less than a month into the first semester, and was just becoming acclimated to life outside of the hospital when graduation rolled around. (She did leave a voicemail on my phone wishing me a happy graduation. Mayra's simple message meant more to me than even I thought it would.)

I'm not angry or upset that this dream didn't become a reality. It's petty to take such matters personally. And besides, my last few weeks of school were filled with amazing memories that I often think back to. But I still think back to the idealized future I had in my head for so long. I always thought of myself as the kind of person who didn't get dragged along by his immature or overly specific dreams, but I had caught myself in the same trap as the girl who plans to have children by this year or the guy who enters school knowing from day one that he'll be a top physician.

And so as I look at where the rest of my twenties will take me (and even further than that), it's not just important to make sure that my roadmap has direction, but to also give it plenty of leeway and chances to move into other areas. If there's one thing I've learned in my twenty-four years that I'll make sure to remember in my twenty-fifth year, it's that your plans are always subject to change. Look to the future, reach for the stars, but don't be afraid to change things up.

(This post partially inspired by David Willis recently re-posting his old mini-series "Roomies: Is a Song Forever?", which first got me thinking about end-of-college scenarios back when I was first in college, and has gotten me reminiscing about it recently.)

PAX East 2010 Recap

I know it's been almost a week since PAX East, but between work and sickness and other things I haven't had a chance to sit down and get my thoughts out.

And I'm still not going to be able to do it just yet. I probably won't be able to fully digest this past weekend until I start flipping through the pictures I took. I'll probably post 'em here. We'll see.

I really want to talk about the amazing moments I saw at PAX, too. Things like people donating $1000+ graphics cards to Child's Play or people tearing up as they explain the impact that Penny Arcade has had on their lives. That's a whole other post on its own.

Plus, this post is already way too long. It's full of rambling and simplifications of theories I have and it does a terrible job conveying what I'm trying to say, but let's just get into it:

The short answer regarding PAX is that it was awesome. I had a ton of fun, and once I got the hang of finding things to do and lining up at the right time, it was just great.

As for the long answer?

Well, let's get abstract for a moment:

I've always been a nerd/geek/what-have-you. I've always been into fantasy and sci-fi genres. I get a kick out of comics and animation and all that crap. Most importantly, I've literally been playing videogames since before I could read. (I used to drive Bryan crazy asking him to read Dragon Quest to me because I was just so gosh darn stubborn and I wanted to play despite the fact that I could not understand a single thing that was going on. Then again, I guess that's still the way I act when I've imported a game, so I guess I haven't learned? Ah well.) But yeah - games are where it's at. Gaming is a love I've always had.

Thinking back to my childhood and adolescence, I can guarantee you that there were far more weekends and vacations spent inside playing games, or reading gaming books or (later on) browsing the internet for gaming content than going out to parties or going for walks or whatever. That's not to say I didn't do those things or that I think wound up being a weirdo because of it. I had a social life and I played sports and all that. But my real passion was always in games. I'd love talking about games with my brothers or my friends. It was great.

But you don't act like this all the time. People like me generally understand that not everybody is interested in what the developer's ending for Chrono Trigger is or how to find the beam sword in the New Mombasa Scarab level of Halo 2. Which is fine, after all - I have other interests and I enjoy talking to people about what they're into. That's fine.

Still, there was never too much of an outlet for that. Even when I would talk with my brothers or my friends, it still felt like it was us alone against the world. Then there's the internet. Sure, you could chat and post with people who have similar feelings on these subjects as you do, but it's never the same. They may be real people, but for all intents and purposes, you're just reading text or watching a video feed or something along those lines. It's not really the same.

Plus, with gamers? Gamers have The Test." Every time a big gamer meets another gamer in the real world, there's always a testing of faith that occurs. You never want to admit you're a huge gamer to somebody you just met who only plays Call of Duty and Madden (not that there's anything wrong with that!) At the same time, you want to make sure that this new stranger knows that you're not just some pantywaist - you've served your time in the gaming trench.

So you give them The Test. You poke and prod, name dropping some games or casually mentioning a genre or series that you're a fan of. You see how they respond, then file that away to pursue during a later moment in the conversation. It's only after you're sure that they're just as into games as you that you can finally open up and start talking like normal people who share a common interest. It's almost like a secret handshake, except that nobody seems to realize that they do it.

I've seen it happen and I've done it myself. Pay attention next time you're introduced to somebody at a party or during an icebreaker. Maybe it's due to years of the gaming community treated as freaks or miscreants. Maybe it's just a social tic that we all share. Whatever it is, we tend to be cautious with these situations. You don't want to show your hand too early and find out your new coworker as just being nice when they said they "really liked Tetris."

But then there's PAX.

And the thing about PAX - and I couldn't have stated it this way until I had experienced it - is that as a gamer it just feels right. It feels like you've been keeping this big secret love between yourself and those close to you but you could never surround yourself with it in the real world. But PAX let's you immerse yourself in your role as a gamer, a nerd, or whatever title you give yourself. It's not just a convention. Gabe and Tycho aren't exaggerating when they describe the whole thing like one big party - that's what it feels like. You've got the people who are listening to the panels over here, while another group just wants to go play some Street Fighter over there, and over to the side you have the lounge where people are just getting together and chatting, gaming or relaxing. And everyone there speaks the same nerd language and everybody there knows where you're coming from.

I talked to people about games, both old and new. I chatted with game developers abI know it's been almost a week since PAX East, but between work and sickness and other things I haven't had a chance to sit down and get my thoughts out.

And I'm still not going to be able to do it just yet. I probably won't be able to fully digest this past weekend until I start flipping through the pictures I took. I'll probably post 'em here. We'll see.

The short answer regarding PAX is that it was awesome. I had a ton of fun, and once I got the hang of finding things to do and lining up at the right time, it was just great.

As for the long answer?

Well, let's get abstract for a moment:

I've always been a nerd/geek/what-have-you. I've always been into fantasy and sci-fi genres. I get a kick out of comics and animation and all that crap. I've literally been playing videogames since before I could read. (I used to drive Bryan crazy asking him to read Dragon Quest to me because I was just so gosh darn stubborn and I wanted to play despite the fact that I could not understand a single thing that was going on. Then again, I guess that's still the way I act when I've imported a game, so I guess I haven't learned? Ah well.)

Thinking back to my childhood and adolescence, I can guarantee you that there were far more weekends and vacations spent inside playing games or reading books or (later on) browsing the internet. Sure, I've always had plenty of friends, but most of the time we would get together and revel in our own nerdery. This was my life and has been for years.

But you don't act like this all the time. People like me generally understand that not everybody is interested in what the developer's ending for Chrono Trigger is or how to find the beam sword in the New Mombasa Scarab level of Halo 2. Which is fine, after all - I have other interests and I enjoy talking to people about what they're into.

Still, there was never too much of an outlet for that. Even when I would talk with my brothers or my friends, it still felt like it was us alone against the world. Then there's the internet. Sure, you could chat and post with people who have similar feelings on these subjects as you do, but it's never the same. They may be real people, but for all intents and purposes, you're just reading text or watching a video feed or something along those lines. It's just not the same as true social interaction.

Plus, with gamers? Gamers have The Test." Every time a big gamer meets another gamer in the real world, there's always a testing of faith that occurs. You never want to admit you're a huge gamer to somebody you just met who only plays Call of Duty and Madden (not that there's anything wrong with that!) At the same time, you want to make sure that this new stranger knows that you're not just some pantywaist - you've served your time in the gaming trench.

So you give them The Test. You poke and prod, name dropping some games or casually mentioning a genre or series that you're a fan of. You see how they respond, then file that away to pursue during a later moment in the conversation. It's only after you're sure that they're just as into games as you that you can finally open up and start talking like normal people who share a common interest. It's almost like a secret handshake, except that nobody seems to realize that they do it.

I've seen it happen and I've done it myself. Pay attention next time you're introduced to somebody at a party or during an icebreaker.

But then there's PAX.

And the thing about PAX - and I couldn't have stated it this way until I had experienced it - is that it feels right. It feels like you've been keeping this big secret love between yourself and those close to you but you could surround yourself with it in the real world. But PAX let's you immerse yourself in your role as a gamer, a comic book nerd, or whatever title you give yourself. It's not just a convention. Gabe and Tycho aren't exaggerating when they describe the whole thing like one big party - that's what it feels like. You've got the people who are listening to the panels over here, while another group just wants to go play some Street Fighter over there, and over to the side you have the lounge where people are just getting together and chatting, gaming or relaxing. And everyone there speaks the same nerd language and everybody there knows where you're coming from. There were fans, comic creators, game developers, and musicians and they were all friendly and open and happy to chat about their favorite games or how much fun they were having at PAX.

During one of the Penny Arcade Q&A sessions, an attendee said that he ran into Wil Wheaton (former Star Trek: Next Generation actor, current all-around geek ambassador and keynote speaker for PAX East). The attendee mentioned that he hadn't been to PAX before, at which point Wil smiled and said to him, "Welcome home."

That's what PAX is. It's not people obsessing over their hobbies or being deviants. It's people getting together for a weekend and celebrating their shared love for the community they've built.

And it just feels right.