For some people, being impulsive is easy, and it’s a trait I find fascinating, a way of operating –and I know this runs counter to the very definition of the word–that seems advantageous for certain situations. Clearly I’m not impulsive. It’s simply not in my genetic makeup. Indeed, you would have better luck getting a Luftwaffe commander to freestyle than to suggest as such. I’ve been experimenting with a new framework recently, though, whose end result is the appearance of spontaneity, and I believe I’m better for it.
I like frameworks. They’re reusable thoughts, employed to navigate the day-to-day. But since it’s way too early in the week for the abstract, consider something a little more concrete: the idea that time and money are part of the same pie. It’s a zero-sum game, where having more of one usually means relinquishing the other. I got this from the Professor, and I’ve found it to be repeatedly useful. It’s simply another way to make decisions, when choosing seconds over cents is the most important criteria for a given moment.
The new framework I’ve been testing isn’t rocket science. It’s the notion that whatever you’re producing–an e-mail, presentation, speech, project–doesn’t have to be 100% before you push it out. If you’re 80%, 85% of the way there, that’s probably more than enough to carry you through most situations. The benefits of this train of thought are straightforward. There’s less agonizing, more action. More motion, which I like. And maybe your 80% could pass for, like, 90% to most bystanders, in which case–hey!–you’re set. Initial results have been promising, but I’m going to leave it at that. There was a full explanation, but I hit the “publish” button when this post was only 85% baked.
I recently tempted fate by letting an Xbox onto the homestead, a move which, I imagine, is similar to dropping an AA member into the local watering hole on dollar draft night with the sole charge of conversing about the importance of hops to any willing ear. Now, more than a month later, I’m pleased to report I’m still here, fully functional, ready to regale you with my theory on why I haven’t gone off the reservation.
The answer is media self-consciousness. We’ve discussed this before, and it’s this idea that every time I fire up the console, I do so with the conviction of society at large. It’s not just me pushing the “on” button, in other words, and as much as I’d like to lose myself in a digital haze, I know it’d be improper. I see the pastime as a non-gamer would see it. I’m not talking about mainstream coverage that links video games to shootings and the like, so much as the perception that gaming remains the province of nerds, pasty mole-like creatures who hang out, unbidden, at the nearest Gamestop.
I’ve been told on at least two occasions that I should celebrate how much I enjoy the 360 and that censoring myself, as I am wont to do, is a personal disservice. I guess I’m not staying true to myself? Or something? I’ve stuck to my guns, though, and I think I’m better for it. I remember one particularly vivid moment of confirmation–vindication, even–during an office party from a while back, where the Operator walked in on a Rock Band session.
“Oh. My. God,” she exclaimed prior to pulling the door shut.
I knew exactly what those three syllables meant. While there may have been rock, there certainly wasn’t a band, just a room full of grown men wielding plastic instruments. Fortunately I wasn’t playing at that exact moment, merely sitting on the couch instead, and although I was clearly a witness-accomplice, there was no mistaking me for lead guitar. So, media self-consciousness. Am I staying true to myself? Likely not, but it doesn’t strike me as a crutch. It’s a raft in a sea of circuitry.
If memory serves, this week is around the time when Sir Richard Branson blasts off to infinity and beyond and meanwhile, here on planet Earth, Charlotte region, I ordered salt and vinegar chips for lunch today. You’ve got to mix it up sometimes, obviously, and to get even more unhinged, I’m typing at you earlier tonight because I figured–hey!–let’s try logging into WordPress well before 12:45 AM for once.
The march continues, with dozens of games under my belt, basic faculties in full swing, and the spirit of invention live and firing. I noticed today that a good rally is really just a good conversation, where the best possible outcome is the discovery of new avenues, new ideas, which in this case meant a brand new drop shot and a reliable backhand smash. Those are more like conversation stoppers, I suppose, but I’ll take them. The focus now is simple. I’ve got to press the game–find that fire in the belly and seize the offense when it’s smart to do so.
A few days ago, I found myself pricing out new equipment. The paddle I’m using is more than a decade old, and both faces have lost their grip. I considered replacing the rubber myself, but this would’ve required purchasing special glue, a cutting board, knife, foam, and, naturally, the rubber itself. The whole conflagration struck me as a hospital visit just waiting to happen, until good sense returned and I emptied the shopping cart. I still have a ways to go before I’m truly limited by this paddle, after all, and I’d rather be at the point where the public at large judges that I need to upgrade, instead of jumping the gun and overbuying like a toolbox. The final bill was exorbitant, too, especially for shit that’s basically derived from trees. How can a small length of wood and rubber come at such great cost? That’s what she said.