The 30-35-40 Plan, Part 1

“Star of the party.”  It’s a term that a former soccer coach used to describe the role of a certain player during corner kicks.  There are several roles that need to be filled during the setup of a corner kick and he gave these roles names in order to teach us how to stay in the proper positions.  It’s a concept I’ve carried forward to the teams I coach today.  You could be a “runner” or “the garbage man”.  “Star of the party” always sounded the coolest and I took a natural liking to this role. 

As the SOTP, it was your job to NOT get involved in the play and sit at the top of the box and wait.  Many youth soccer players go to where the ball is and not where it is most likely to be, so the role is counter-intuitive.  However, I realized at a young age that the ball often squirts out of the goal area in these situations to the top of the penalty box where a patiently waiting player with a decent leg can fire it back on goal.  Much like at parties or on the dance floor, I do best my work observing from the fringes while most of the action happens amidst the congestion.  I also had a pretty strong leg that I didn’t mind showing off, so I was ecstatic whenever I got tabbed to fill the SOTP role.  So why call it “star of the party”?  Because the star of the party is always late of course; they never arrive on time.  And neither do I.

Yes, when it comes to the party of life, I am one hell of a star.  In fact, people are still waiting for me to arrive.  Other than shoveling food into my mouth and occasionally (especially if you believe my cousins from the South) rattling off sentences in a conversation, there are not too many activities I do quickly.  Similarly, I do not adapt to the changes around me very quickly either.  Technology is a prime example.  It’s always been this way. 

Growing up, we were always one video game system behind everyone.  The day we had a Nintendo to call our own was one of the most joyous days of my childhood.  It didn’t matter that Sega Genesis or Super Nintendo were now all the rage.  When we finally graduated from NES two-button fun to Sega three-button pleasure, there were systems like Sega Saturn and something called Nintendo 64.  “Goldeneye” and its multi-player setup remains one of the greatest games of all-time in my opinion.  We eventually got to experience that ecstasy and I didn’t see the need to upgrade to something like PlayStation or Xbox.  N64 is where the gaming adventures of me and my brother ended.  It’s still hooked up somewhere in our house. 

Heck, I have the old NES hooked up in my room.  She’s a little dusty but she still works…usually.  Back in the day, sometimes you’d have to earn the right to play.  You might have to blow in the cartridge or game console a few times.  You might have to bang it a little or employ another method of choice to overcome the blue screen of death. (I often succeeded using some form of ramming.)  There was always a hint of uncertainty when turning on the system followed by a surge of delight when the game screen appeared.  Kids these days just don’t have that level of appreciation.  Speaking of NES, I’d love to host a “Little League Baseball” tournament some day.  Just sayin’.

It’s not just video games however.  The primary desktop computer in our house is probably at least 15 years old; I remember we got it back when I was in high school.  Bold statement: NO ONE reading this actively uses a computer older than this thing, or even knows someone who does.  My brother chuckles when he recalls a friend coming over to help him with something 6 years ago and the friend referred to it as “ancient” back then.  The monitor and tower are enormous.  The floppy diskette slot seems like a curiously placed opening to discard something like a used gum wrapper, as my younger cousin commented.  The converted USB hub dangling out of the back – necessary to interact with any file storage device created this century – seems comical too.  The machine is in obvious pain every time it is tasked with performing some function as evidenced by the consistent churning noises it emits.  If machines could speak, there is no doubt this one would be begging for the “Office Space” treatment in the pasture out back.  It’s just soooo slow; I don’t know how anyone can put up with it. 

My sister and I got our own laptops a few years ago.  My brother and dad use it sparingly but can handle most of their computing needs on their phones.  But my mom?  She keeps plugging along, apparently oblivious to the world out there.  It’s like if you never watched any television in HD.  If you didn’t know any better, your SD quality was plenty good enough.  Hey, it beats black & white, right?  I don’t know about you all, but I didn’t notice a huge difference when we first made the conversion.  Of course I could never go back now.  The contrast is so glaringly apparent when your eyes are punished with inferior SD picture quality.

I shouldn’t be too hard on my mom though.  As I alluded to earlier, I don’t really have a leg to stand on when it comes to being a modern, civilized man.  Every self-respecting first-world inhabitant has a “smart” phone these days, right?  Not yours truly.  There is still a part of me that actually believes I can survive without any sort of mobile device.  I don’t use it all that often and being completely “off the grid” would coincide with the hermitic tendencies I’m prone to exhibit with friends or every potential female partner out there.  You want me?  Come get me.  However, I must concede that mobile devices make things a lot easier in cases of emergency or when a quick response is needed. 

I’ve really come around on the idea of texting.  As recently as 2009, I made a vow to never send any text messages and refuse to read the ones that were sent to me.  I proposed that anyone who needed to a get a hold of me should use the phone in the way it was always intended.  I felt passionately about this; you can even see my plea in the Notes archive of my Facebook profile.  The real irony in all of this is that I absolutely hate talking on the phone.  Hate may not even be strong enough.  Loathe.  Detest.  Abhor.  I hate calling up people because I always assume I’m burdening them at a bad time.  I don’t know how to properly fill the awkward silent pauses that inevitably arise.  I don’t know when to hang up because I can’t recognize the cues that suggest the conversation is over.  Worst of all, I don’t have the benefit of body language to help interpret the words I hear and qualify the words I say.

So I’ve finally come around and relented to the peer pressures of societal communication, at least somewhat.  It does feel a little bit like the gaming system tardiness of my youth all over again.  Even though I utilize the text message option of phones, I don’t have a phone with internet access.  This always seems to amaze people whenever that fact is revealed, and they almost feel guilty after asking me to do something my phone doesn’t allow.  [Excitedly] Dude, go here and check out this video.  [Subdued, when I inform then I can't] Ohhh, well, when you get the chance, you should.    So maybe when our phones can actually drive the car FOR us to the location we input will I have a phone that can only give me a digital map of that location.  Maybe can I join in on the “Words With Friends” fun, or whatever game is currently in vogue.  Just don’t let me become of those folks who can’t go more than 10 minutes without looking at their phone.  

You know what else grinds my gears?  These “smart” phones have effectively killed the epic bar arguments that used to be commonplace.  Both sides would vehemently defend their position with a multitude of reasons why they were correct.  This would go on and on.  These were fun debates to watch and even more fun to actually be a part of.  Outsiders were brought in as resident experts to support someone’s belief.  Now, someone just hops on their phone and kills the suspense before the dispute can truly materialize.  Knowledge may be power but the mystery was priceless.  What’s funny is that most of you are probably reading this on your phone, and I’m depending on that being your preferred method of digesting information in order to have an audience.  

I could regale you with additional examples of my 20^th century living, but I think just one more will suffice.  Earlier this year I acquired my very first debit card and used an ATM for the first time.  I’ve just always been a cash guy.  There’s a certain comfort level knowing that the transaction has been successfully completed when you hand over the currency.  Plus I think that only purchasing things when I have the physical money necessary to cover the cost has saved me from frivolous purchases.  I understand that debit cards deduct from money you already have, but you think twice about what you’re buying when you have to give up something tangible to get it. 

There is also a lurking fear that I’m going to screw something up when paying by plastic.  At a restaurant, for example, I might write the wrong amount down in the tip area.  Now I’ve either overpaid for some crappy service or I’ve insulted the server at a restaurant I enjoy and my food will have a little surprise in it next time.  Perhaps I might enter the wrong pin number when swiping my card at the check-out line in the grocery store.  The line behind me begins to grow restless, sweat beads on my forehead, and I frantically try to recall what that damn number is.  The pin number fiasco actually happened.  Fortunately, I got it on my 2^nd guess.  Phew!  That was a close one.  In fact, I am 0 for 2 on first attempts at entering the pin number when using that card.  I’ll figure out this process someday.  It still kind of feels a little like stealing when I get something without giving up cash for it.

So there you have it.  The 30-35-40 plan.

Just kidding.  This is only part 1, right?  I wanted to give you a little background to establish that I live my life in slow motion.  Oh, you think all that background was unnecessary, do you?  Well, I’m a verbose fellow.  I’ll take three sentences to say things when the same message could be conveyed in one.  It sure did come in handy for all those school papers with a minimum word or page requirement.  Anyway, back to your phones.  That virtual farm of yours isn’t going to grow itself.