April 4th, 2007

Why I’m A Gamer

I’ve been playing videogames longer than some of you have been alive. While that seems to lend itself to a “and I walked uphill in the snow five miles there and back” narrative, that’s not necessarily what I’m getting at. It’s more to set in your mind the thought that I like to play videogames, enough that I’ve been doing it for a long, long time.While I don’t remember the first game I ever played (my earliest gaming memories are of a Pole Position standup arcade unit at the local Dairy Queen and Pac-Man on a friend’s Atari 2600), I do know that from the outset I heard a refrain from others that would become familiar over the years:

“Why do you play those games?”

More often than not, that’s followed up with

“They’re such a waste of time.”

While I won’t claim the task of speaking for all gamers everywhere, I’d like to set forth my reasons for playing.

* * * * *
Storytelling

Great games tell great stories. Some are heartbreaking, some are intriguing, some are hilarious… and some are dumb. Just like any other storytelling medium, there are ups and downs. While the basic mechanics of a game might be “move this box” and “climb this chain,” there’s a narrative running throughout the actions, a “why” to the actions. I become invested in the characters and want to know how things are going to work out for them and what will happen. It’s like watching a movie, only I have some input as to how the movie turns out, and the movie might be 10-20 hours long. (In fact, some games are even longer – I put at least 83 hours into Final Fantasy VII back in the day.) Games can be sad, scary, and funny, and often the story of the game is more important to me than the playing. There’ve been many times I’ve used a walkthrough (a guide that tells you exactly what to do to advance the game), just so I could see the story and not have to worry about trying to figure out what to do next.

Camaraderie

Just as you might watch A Walk to Remember alone but you’d watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail in a group, there are games meant to be played alone and there are games meant to be played with others. Getting a few people together for the express purpose of playing games can be a great time for bonding and getting to know each other. I used to hold 5-player GoldenEye sessions, where the winner of a 4-person round would sit out and let the next player in. Now I occasionally have a few people over to play Guitar Hero. While some are playing, the others are talking, and good old-fashioned friendship ensues. The advent of the newer systems’ abilities to be online means that I can play with or against people from all over the world, or even just talk to them while we’re playing separate games. Even single player games lend themselves to working together – figuring out what to do next can be a lot easier with someone else’s different perspective on the problem. Frankly, that leads right into the next reason…

Life Lessons

It’s common to hear phrases like “mind-numbing” or “rot your brain” when people talk about how bad videogames are for people. I see them differently, and feel there’s a lot people can learn from games:

  1. Persistence – Many times there are puzzles in games that require a certain set of actions to be done in a certain order, and it can be difficult to accomplish the actions on the first try. Sometimes it can be difficult to accomplish these things on the 7th, 13th, or 20th try! Fast mechanical actions are the biggest challenge for me, and sticking with it to get it done is a good reminder to me.
  2. Problem solving – Sure, most things that need to be solved in a videogame don’t have much bearing in real life – I mean, it’s not often that you need to find a red gem from an ancient statue so that you can open a box that has the magic feather you need to open the door to your kitchen, after all. But the idea that problems have solutions is a solid one. Issues can be worked out.
  3. Creativity – as technology has advanced, so has the ability for games to offer multiple solutions to a given problem. “Sandbox games” (defined as “games that let you interact with the whole game world rather than limit you to specific areas at a time”) are very popular, and YouTube is full of videos of
    people doing crazy things in-game that the gamemakers never intended. See that building way off in the distance that looks unreachable? Let’s find a way to get to it! Sure, the creativity is still limited to the confines of the game, but it’s still an important skill to cultivate.
  4. Learning to work in a system – Have a job? There are specific ways you have to do things, right? TPS Reports must have a cover sheet, taxes have to be filed, and procedures must be followed. While “thinking outside the box” is encouraged and better solutions are generally welcome, there will always be rules a person needs to follow. A videogame gives the player specific abilities and a specific world where those abilities can be used, and it’s up to the player to determine how best to use those abilities in the confines of the game world.
  5. Team-building & Organization – As I’ve already mentioned, working on a solution to a presented problem with someone else can make all the difference. I might only see the ledge and a switch, but someone else might notice that the animal carcass is movable and can be placed on the switch. Guild leaders in games like World of Warcraft spend hours organizing people from all over the country to accomplish tasks that sometimes require 40 people – imagine trying to do that! Granted, I’m not interested in doing organization on a scale as grand as that, but making plans of attack for two-player games can still teach planning and organization.
Personal Accomplishment

There is a definite sense of satisfaction I get from beating a game or a level in a game – whether it’s winning the Super Bowl in a football game, clearing a pyramid in Q*Bert, or defeating the ancient mystical being that’s been causing problems the whole game. Finishing a task is a good feeling. The Xbox 360 builds on this aspect, as each game allows a person to earn “gamerpoints.” The points do nothing more than indicate the gamer has accomplished certain in-game feats, but ask anyone who owns a 360 and they’ll tell you: when that “Achievement Unlocked” notification comes up, so does the “Aw right!” in the brain.

Vicarious Living

Videogames let me experience things I would never get to (or, in some cases, never choose to) do. While I could probably ride a snowmobile in real life, I wouldn’t feel safe, and I sure would never get the chance to ride one through an active volcano or jump it over a helicopter. I’d get debilitatingly claustrophobic in a mummy’s tomb. There’s no way in the world I’d jump on alligator heads to cross a stream. If someone gave me the opportunity to drive a Dodge Viper, I’d be too nervous to drive the speed limit, much less crank it all the way up, and I sure wouldn’t smack it into other cars. In videogames, I can do all those things and get to experience a little picture of what it would be like.

Control

There are so many things in life I don’t have control over: how people react to me, how other people drive, what birds flying overhead are going to do – all that. With a game, my onscreen avatar does what I tell it to do, no more, no less. The old computer term “GIGO” still applies: “Garbage In, Garbage Out.” I determine what happens, and when I no longer want to play, I shut the system down. I am the boss of what happens, and that’s nice to feel every once in a while. (Of course, if I’m no good at a particular game, that’s also my fault, so it’s a double-edged sword…)

Fun

Last, but not least, videogames are fun. For me, they’re fun for a combination of the reasons I’ve given here. If a game isn’t fun, I don’t keep playing it (unless I’m reviewing it…). My 360 tells me I’ve played 63 games on it, but it also tells me that I haven’t achieved any gamerpoints on 19 of those games, which means I didn’t enjoy those games enough to keep playing them.

* * * * *
Can all of these things be experienced in other avenues? Sure. That’s not my point. I wanted to explain why it is that I play games. And, yes, I also know that playing too much is a bad idea – just like most things that aren’t bad by themselves can be bad when not done in moderation. Eating is good, but eating too much is bad. Sleeping is good, but sleeping too much is bad. There needs to be balance. I do not play videogames to the exclusion of everything else – I read, I spend time with friends, I write, I philosophize, I watch movies – really, I do a lot of things. If I’m not careful, I can let any one of those things get out of hand, and I sometimes do.I know that this manifesto won’t change anyone’s opinions on the matter, and that’s fine. I personally think that spending money to fertilize and water a lawn so that you can spend more money to cut it later is ridiculous, but if that’s what you like to do, go ahead and do it. I might even help you do it once in a great while, but it’s never going to be something I choose to do on my own. Your love of doing it won’t affect me one iota, so it’s easy for me to understand that my love of gaming won’t change your opinions on gaming at all.

We can agree to disagree and still be grand friends. I believe that in all sincerity.

March 29th, 2007

Creatures Of Habit

When I get home after work, Nutmeg comes to greet me from wherever she’s been scheming.

Less than a minute after I get in my bed at night, Dala has hopped up on the bed (if she wasn’t there already). Nutmeg’s there within five minutes.

When I open the bathroom door after I’ve showered in the morning, both of them push their way in.

These things happen every. single. day.

My apartment has a utility room right off the kitchen. The washing machine, dryer, water heater, and airconditioning/heater unit are in there and there’s a door to the room. I decided before even moving in that the room would be perfect to house the litter box and the food and water dishes. That way if I ever needed to lock them up for a while they’d have everything they needed all in one room. They’d still freak out about being locked up, but at least they wouldn’t die.

I feed them every day at both 6:30s (or thereabout), a half-cup of food per time. This, too, has become part of their schedule, though they’re not exactly right about it. At night they start pestering me for food about an hour and a half before the actual time. In the morning, Nutmeg starts batting at me and purring as loud as she can about a half hour before it’s time. When I head downstairs, they almost trip over themselves hurrying to get to the cabinet where their food is before I do. They’ll stare at cabinet door and meow, pacing back and forth like expectant fathers. Once I get the food, they bolt for the utility room, and I can barely pour the food because their heads are in the way.

A few weeks ago I moved their food and water dishes out to the end of the counter in the kitchen, maybe eight feet away from where the dishes have been for the past year and a half. I did this for a couple of reasons:

  1. Most “cat experts” tell you the food and the litter box should be in different areas. Makes sense. I don’t think I need to explain the thinking behind this one.
  2. Sometimes feeding time intersects with laundry time. I’ve noticed during these times that Nutmeg won’t eat. The noises scare her. And while Nutmeg could stand to not eat and Dala could stand to have more unmolested access to the food, I still feel bad that Nutmeg gets scared.

A funny thing has happened. When I get their food from the cabinet, they both still head for the utility room. I realize they have brains the size of a walnut, but it’s been a couple of weeks with this new setup, and I’d have guessed they would have figured this out by now. It’s become a lab experiment of sorts, and when Dala actually did head to the end of the counter the other day, I got the same sort of thrill you might get when your team scores a touchdown. Sadly, the next day she was back to the utility room.

It’s particularly odd because to get to the food cabinet, they go right past the food dish. You’d think that they’d see it on their way and remember, “Oh, yeah, the dish is over here now,” but I guess a starving cat isn’t so much concerned with little details.

They’ll eventually figure it out, I know, I’m just surprised it’s taking them so long. But then it strikes me that I’m exactly the same way. It’s no surprise to anyone who’s read this blog for more than a week that I’m one for ruts – I do things the way I’ve done things and that’s how it is. I get the same things at the same restaurants, I drive the same routes, I do the same things over and over. For me, there’s comfort in familiarity. For as much as I like Star Trek, I’d make a lousy space explorer. Spock would alert me to sensor readings indicating a never-before-seen lifeform on a nearby planet and I’d say, “Yeah, but… we’re headed to that other planet and besides, the lifeform’s probably dangerous and most certainly ugly. Let’s skip it.”

Some habits are good to have and keep – brushing your teeth, making your bed, being nice to other people. Other habits aren’t so good, and just like the origin of the phrase “stuck in a rut,” it becomes next to impossible to get the covered wagon up out of it and on to a new course.

Note those words “next to.” It’s hard, but it can be done. About two years ago, I changed what hand I use to brush my teeth. I know, it’s such a weirdly random thing to do, but I read an article that talked about different things you could do to exercise your brain and that’s the one I remembered. I’m a righty and have brushed my teeth with my right hand for however long I’ve been brushing my teeth. Switching to my left hand was hard and felt awkward and I wasn’t so good at it for a long time, but it eventually became natural. In fact, these days I can’t brush my teeth with my right hand. Now it feels weird and awkward.

My brain’s slightly larger than a walnut (but still smaller than a watermelon), so it should be easier for me to make these habit changes, especially if the habit’s destructive. If the cats never figure out the food dish thing, the only problem they have is two extra seconds of walking when they hear or see me pour the food in the bowl. My bad habits could cause infinitely more damage, so why’s it so hard to change them?

I think tomorrow I’m going to start re-training myself to brush my teeth with my right hand.

March 2nd, 2007

Available

I don’t know if this is the sort of thing a person ought to mention on their blog or not. I worry a lot about appropriateness, if you hadn’t noticed. I like for people to have a pleasant experience when they show up here, and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

But this seems like kind of a big deal, so I thought I’d chance it.

I’m not even sure how to put this, so I guess… well, I guess I’ll just say it like this, separately spaced, centered, and bolded:

I’m available.

It’s taken me some time to come to this point, but I’m finally ready to announce it. Sure, it might not mean much to some of you – most of you, even – but for a select few, it might put a spring in your step, a gleam in your eye, or a flutter in your heart. To those select few I say this: contact me. My email address is in the upper-left corner, the comments section is open – I’ll even give you my phone number if you want. Just give me a holler.

We’ll have fun, I promise you. Oh, there’ll be rough times, but if we work through them, we’ll come out on the other side of them a better team, more prepared for the next challenges. But if you’re up for it, so am I. With enough work, maybe we’ll eventually be able to take a crack at something a little scary, very difficult, but ultimately rewarding: “Freebird” on Expert.

Considering I’m just now starting to try songs on Hard, it might take a while. But if you’re available to work on it, I am, too. So if you wanna play some Guitar Hero until your fingers fall off, give me a holler.

I’m totally available. For playing Guitar Hero.