My So-Called Email Life

Ninety-six percent of my life is virtual. I’ve timed it and I’m always about thirteen seconds away from the Internet. You all know this. For goodness sake, I’m taking more technical support calls than Microsoft these days. Granted, I sat down at MR’s computer over Christmas break and in about five minutes turned it from a stinking pile of crap into a shiny red Ferrari. Needless to say, this doctor doesn’t mind making house calls when a trip to the Zillionaire’s Lounge is involved. So in this virtual life, new social customs are arising. In the interest of science, I feel obliged to share some of the details of my so-called email life.

First off, we are all at very different “virtual lives.” This must be taken into account when writing an email. Am I going to get a response back next week or is it going to be in two minutes? Is this going to be more of a conversation or single-spaced autobiography? For example, I will break this down by analyzing my email habits with some of the commenters on this site. If your results are different with these folks, don’t take offense. These values are not constant and change frequently.

  1. MR: Currently, the forecast for MR is pretty sunny. Right now, I have solid expectations that I will hear back from an email within the hour. The email will also be of notable length. Frequency, due to these factors, is greatly inhibited and average email count is one a day. Some visitors might be surprised to read that these are almost never funny but instead are usually somewhat serious discussions of different facets of our lives.
  2. CK: Forecast on this guy is freezing cold with an occasional absolute blizzard. We’ll go months between emails then one day five or six back and forth. They are always of high quality so perhaps that is the root cause of the dry spells. No fluff. Just straight freestyle, off-the-cuff comedy.
  3. Solo: Little cloudy here. We don’t get into the riffs that we once did on email. I think most of it stems from the fact that last year we both overdosed on virtuality. We were ichatting, isighting, xboxing, and emailing. It was out of control. It was like watching a television show of his life and, let me tell you, that ain’t reality tv. That is like watching the Discovery channel. He is the whole circus people, not just the dancing bears. I kid, I joke… :)
  4. Etc.. (See, I didn’t leave you out. You know who you are. Yeah, this is for you. I shouted you out on the website. Yes, you! You reading this.)

Another facet of this conversation is about quality not quantity. I can’t always bring my “A” game. In fact, I rarely do. I’m ok with that. Sometimes, I’m just conducting business. Sometimes I’m catching up. Sometimes I’m trying to get you to respond with some witty banter so we go back and forth. Be thankful when you receive these emails as it’s kinda like the behind the scenes look at Zillionaire. The E! True Hollywood Emails of the site, if you will.

In conclusion, I eagerly await converting my existence to a 100% online lifestyle. It was my New Year’s resolution after all. I hope to see you all on the other side.

Sweet One, Syracuse

Wow, thanks to Vermont upsetting Syracuse, I am now mathematically eliminated from winning my office pool on the second day of the tournament. The second day! I think I actually did worse than the girl in Payroll that picks teams based solely on the color of their uniforms. Sadly, she even warned me that Syracuse’s orange uniforms were really more of a fall color. Damn. I now face the daunting task of going into work on Monday and trying to convince people that my wife actually filled out my bracket.

While Vermont played an outstanding game, they couldn’t have pulled out the win without some magnificent point shaving by Syracuse’s Gerry McNamara. Kudos on a truly first-rate performance. I’m sure there’s a bookie having his thumbs broken as we speak. Seriously, it was like watching the movie “Blue Chips” with Jim Boeheim starring in Nick Nolte’s role (and regrettably, without Shaq as a supporting actor.)

Truthfully though, I like seeing a smattering of upsets this time of year. It’s just that I’m usually on the “Called it!!!” side of these games, smugly gloating to coworkers like the outcome was obvious. “Well, Southwest Missouri Tech has won their last 11 non-conference games on the road… And Kansas tends to shoot under 50% when the opposing coach has a mustache. It was really a no-brainer.”

There’s more to this story though. With their win tonight, Vermont has unwittingly created a second major upset within our office pool. With me out of the tourney in the early rounds, my coworkers (all of which are #16 seeds to my lone #1 seed) now have a legitimate chance to win it all. Let me say right now, I can’t wait to use that analogy on Monday…

And so there it is. Let the madness begin… I can honestly say that my happiness in life over the next three weeks will depend almost entirely on how far Gonzaga goes in the tourney… (By declaring that, I almost assuredly have jinxed my way into another upset. Standard.)

Go Zags!

My Middle-Age Tendencies

  1. Every time I fill up at the gas station, I reset the trip-meter to zero. However, I have never calculated my gas mileage based on these findings.
  2. I can’t do any work around the house without first writing a to-do list. Ninety-percent of the time my list starts with “take a shower” quickly followed by “brush teeth.” If I get those two things done early, it’s gonna be a productive day.
  3. It takes me a minimum of 15 minutes to leave the house. First, I have to find my keys, wallet, and cell-phone. I actually find some joy in this task as I’m a sucker for an impromptu easter egg hunt. Then, I have to turn off the 47 lights that I’ve turned on, which usually involves turning on a few lights to find the off switches for other lights. Needless to say, I’m thinking of just biting the bullet and installing strobe lighting.
  4. When I find a beer bottle on my front lawn, I get upset. Big change from just a few short years ago when I would have checked to see if there was still a swig or two left in it.
  5. Roughly speaking, I spend 7 hours a day sitting a chair within twenty feet of two other poeple whose company I did not choose. This never ceases to disturb me.
  6. I defend jogging as a viable means of exercise.
  7. My upper body is so white that some people believe me to be a new species of human in the same vein that an artic fox is different from a normal fox. We are just waiting for the DNA results to come back from the research lab to verify the claim.

Gun For Hire

Consider this a classified ad:

Wanted: Reliable mercenary interested in joining a semi-winning team. Must have flexible schedule and be willing to work late nights and weekends. Applicants should demonstrate a tireless and insatiable appetite for killing. Ability to taunt opponents with juvenile insults a plus. Sniper skills a definite plus. Please post resume and/or personal qualifications in the comments section below:

Sadly, this is what it has come to. The Zillionaire platoon of Krusty, Solo, DA and I have been busy spilling the blood of our pre-teen opponents across the outer reaches of the Xbox Live cyberspace. Please understand, these hordes of pre-teens are bloodthirsty and relentless, as most of their life is spent being shoved in lockers and rejected by girls. In other words, picture us 15 years ago… (Alright, fine… five years ago.) Anyway, all of these juveniles are looking to make their mark by knocking off a few Zillionaires. Naturally, we match the ferocity of our opponents, as we take pride not only in annihilating the other team, but also in displaying less maturity in the process.

So why the classified ad? As you might guess, it is becoming extremely difficult for all four of us to get online at the same time. Whenever we fail to field a full squad, Microsoft selects a random player from a select group of social misfits to fill out our team. Guess how this turns out. First off, it is guaranteed our new player will have zero charisma. And most of the time they don’t even talk at all. Believe me, we’ve been matched with a staggeringly disproportionate number of mimes, mutes and silent film stars in these games.

Second, provided our newly assigned teammate doesn’t abruptly quit mid-game, he usually sabotages our team by demonstrating the killing capacity of Spongebob Squarepants while combining it with the dying capacity of Kenny McCormick. The only good thing that comes out of teaming with a random player is that it gives the rest of us someone to blame unequivocally for our defeat. Immediately after the loss, the three of us in the platoon grab our cell phones and make another frantic attempt at reaching our rightful fourth teammate.

And so here we are. We need some reliable gunners that can consistently show up, notch a few kills, and help represent the clan of Zillionaires in our ongoing quest for Halo 2 supremacy. To help applicants get acquainted with some of the people they’d potentially be working with, I’m providing some declassified profiles on our team members…

The Chizzler:
Occupation: Web Designer
Weapon of Choice: Laser Sword
Strengths: Team leader in kills. Handles a laser sword like a Jedi Knight (thankfully without the mind tricks or befriending of Jar Jar Binks).

Jon Solo:
Occupation: Musician
Weapon of Choice: Sniper rifle
Strengths: It’s surprising to those that have seen him shoot a basketball, but Solo is our best marksman.

Velvety Krusty:
Occupation: Campground Manager
Weapon of Choice: Shotgun
Strengths: Never avoids a firefight. He will fight a tank with a Super Soaker if that’s what it takes. Also, his quality of play increases dramatically when intoxicated.

However, to be fair to potential recruits, I should probably disclose some of the weaknesses our team possesses…

I’ll begin with The Chizzler. For starters, The Chizzler has a pathological predisposition to rebel against any form of organization or team strategy during game play. Usually it is benign, like casually wandering away from the team while we take position in a bunker. Apparently, The Chizzler will suddenly realize he left his car keys by the warp zone or forgot to put the dust cover on the machine gun turret, or some other random errand that is more pressing than covering his teammates.

Unfortunately, it’s almost become pointless to even attempt to develop any sort of team strategy, as The Chizzler will ignore it completely on the grounds of not being labeled a conformist. Sadly, the only way to make The Chizzler follow a game plan is to implement reverse psychology by instructing him to not follow the game plan. For instance, if I want The Chizzler to help guard our position, I might instruct him thusly:

McSex: “Alright guys, let’s hold position behind the small fortress. Krusty and I can guard the perimeter, and Solo will cover us with the sniper rifle. Chizzler, you should wander off like an Alzheimer’s patient and sever communication with the rest of the team… and be sure to take several phone calls during game play.”

And then there’s Solo. As I alluded to above, he is lethal with a sniper rifle. When he gets into a killing groove, few can survive his onslaught. Unfortunately, this also includes his teammates. Essentially, Solo turns into the Manchurian Candidate and begins killing everyone, especially those he’s supposed to protect.

Finally, there’s Krusty. He has the most unreliable Internet connection on the planet. Seriously, the Amish mock his lack of technology. Because he lives on a campground, he is apparently forced to dial into Xbox Live via a telegraph in a nearby ranger station. While the rest of us hold conversations, Krusty is beeping at us in Morse code. And while the rest of us worry about hackers interfering with our Internet connection, Krusty’s primary concern is of raccoons and horseflies. Unfortunately, Krusty’s poor connection can cause the rest of our screens to skip and lag, creating an effect similar to trying to make out a picture on a scrambled cable station. For most of us, this is something we were more skilled at in our adolescent days… (Alright, fine… I’m still good at it.)

So as you can see, it takes a special kind of individual to join our team. We’re looking for a few good men willing to sacrifice their marriage and possibly career in the noble pursuit of hardcore video gaming. You’ve got to pretend to believe your wife when she says “nothing’s wrong” and things are “fine” while she angrily turns the pages of a magazine on the adjacent couch while you play video games all night. You’ve got to be willing to show up late and do a really half-assed job at work because you played past midnight the night before. And you’ve got to be willing to drop everything at a moment’s notice when called upon to join your platoon online. It’s not an easy life. Do you have what it takes?

Diary of a Pinball Wizard

High score for WIZ on Medieval Madness

After a lengthy hiatus, I’ve found myself drifting into my favorite bar downtown after work these last two days to play pinball and have a cold one. Always the fearless trendsetter (or is that toothless loser), I saunter in alone, weighted down by a pocketful of quarters, hoping that something decent is on the jukebox. For some inexplicable reason I always play fantastic when AC/DC is coursing through the sound-system. My toes are tapping, my reflexes are sharp, and the super-jackpots just start adding up. Pretty soon, you’ve got 66 million and you get to enter your initials into the machine as the top scorer. Then you pull out your camera-phone, snap a quick pic, and post it on your blog to incite a jealous rage. All in a days work for the WIZ.