A recent comment on the site reminded me of one of the relationship anecdotes that I tell from time to time.
Way back when I was in college, I was courting someone whose company I enjoyed particularly. She and I enjoyed watching movies, we enjoyed walking around, we enjoyed discussing trivialities disguised as important things… and, one day, I couldn’t help but notice that she asked me the question: “You juggle, right?”
I assure you that juggling is *NOT* something that I have ever done with any regularity. Like, not even two nerf balls at the same time.
In that moment, I realized, I had somehow met 80% of her idea of “a sufficient guy” and she was asking me about the other 20% that she had built up. She had, in her mind, a guy a lot like me… except he was capable of juggling.
Which brings me to the ideas of everything from The Witcher 2 to Daggerdale.
Since the 1990’s (Temple of the Dog, yo!), I’ve noticed that much of the disappointment I experience from video games has little to do with the games themselves… instead, my disappointment comes from the unreasonable expectations placed upon me by not only the promises made by the game companies but from the fans of the games who absorb and repeat any/all of the rumors that they happen to hear (whether or not the source approaches reliability).
As such, we cannot hear about Duke Nukem Forever without hearing promises in Nuke’s tone of voice. We cannot hear about the newest/improvest version of boggle without stumbling across it on the internet one night. Indeed, we’re stuck from ever buying a game again…
Anyway, this is one of the things that has always bugged me about games: it’s possible to interview these players without interveiwing *THOSE* guys… right?
Everything that advertises has *those* guys. Movies, games, new tech, etc…
Even miniature war games have them. I cannot tell you all the rumors that come out about the next big army to be released. Then people go nuts of the rumors, settle down, and then go nuts when the real rules are released, either because they are way to powerful in their mind or way worse than the expectation they had, then settle down.
Yes, and a ban on slavery was followed by the Civil War.
“The books? No, I’m not taking accounting until next semester.”
(Nicely surreal, but it was supposed to read:)
“You juggle, right?”
“The books? No, I’m not taking accounting until next semester.”
At the time, I thought “why in the hell would she think that I would juggle?” and I then went on to make the mistake of asking her why she would think that I juggled.
I put 2+2 together over the following year.
At the end of the day, she wasn’t who I thought she was and, obviously, I wasn’t who she thought I was.
I suspect you and I share a lot of similarities like I do with some of my friends, who in many ways are bizarro versions of me. We’re alike in many ways, but opposite in others.
The fact that you don’t juggle would be surprising to me if I hadn’t already been exposed to bad class formulation. When I was much, much younger: “Anyone who’s like me enough to have the sort of conversations you and I have about games on this blog “ought” to have juggled at some point. Because everyone else that I’ve had those sorts of conversations with juggled at some point.”
Removing unnecessary “oughts” from your mental classifications is the first step towards wisdom.