Thinking out loud… kind of.

March 15, 2008 at 8:51 pm (Planning for the Future, Reflections)

Got a haircut today – everything had been getting a little shaggy, but I have to say, I like having a nice, close haircut as much as I like feeling the wind flapping everything around.

So I’m back home, all safe. I got to hang with two of my best friends last night, guys that I’ve been friends with since grade school. We’re all in similar predicaments; one is a teacher at a high school who may or may not have a job next year (depends on whether the teacher he’s filling in for comes back from maternity leave), and another is finally fed up with the lack of advancement in his menial job.

But we celebrated anyway. We celebrated the purchase of a new car, the death of an old car, graduate school, and new jobs, all over a southwest chicken egg roll platter, a milkshake, and a burger laden with portobello mushrooms. (Yep, no booze, just greasy diner food.)

It’s odd, but I feel like I’m trying to hide myself less these days. I feel less guarded than I used to be. This past week helped me loosen up a lot, and showed me what kind of a great person my little sister’s grown into – it’s funny, but I think she’s become my new role model.

Oh, and I saw Vanilla Sky for the first time in years. I love Cameron Crowe’s movies (Say Anything and Almost Famous are personal favorites…well, almost anything with John Cusack is a favorite), and it was a chance to re-examine a great film with a changed perspective on life, love, and the whole crazy thing.

I mean, it’s totally whacked out and it makes my head hurt in parts, but it’s still beautifully done. I wish I could write / make a film that closes down Times Square for a single five minute sequence.

Also, changing the name of the blog. No longer will it be Back-Track. My brain happened upon an odd phrase this week during my sleep-deprived delirium, and it seems fitting.

Backseat Elvis.

Of course, I’ll still answer to Track. It’s what you know me as. But I feel like that’s the name that best reflects what I feel like, and gives a sense of purpose to the writing; chronicling the journey of a Backseat Elvis to Elvis in the Driver’s Seat.

(no leaving the building jokes, please.)

-Brian / Track / Backseat Elvis.


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February 28, 2008 at 3:24 pm (Reflections, Uncategorized)

Welcome to the new blog.

The days of Trackhoof, mighty hunter are gone. He’s here, but in the way that memories of a friend stay with you, long after you’ve fallen out of touch.

Some of you wanted to get to know me better. Now, you get that chance. (I’ll still use the name; it’s what you know me best as.)

I’m just a guy over in New Jersey. Y’know, the States, apple pie and all that. For me, WoW was an escape from, well, life. Honestly, I needed it.

I’d been working in retail, at a certain major electronics chain that produces all manner of spiffy mechanics and a highly celebrated music player, and honestly, the hours were killing me. No reason or rhythm to the schedule, closing one day and opening the next. WoW was one of the things in life that was certain.

The other was the fact that I was, and still, am living at home. Yep, 22 and living at home.

(Thankfully, my considerate parents allowed me a room that wasn’t in the basement. Take that, cliche!)

But, as things came to a crest, I realized I had to quit my job. I found my way out, and I’m glad I took it.

Also, it happened that I lost my affection for the game. Continuing to play and saying that I still enjoyed and reveled in the challenge would’ve been… hollow. I’d been at the top of my game. I, literally, started doing the CC for a Black Morass run, zoned out during the process, looked up at the clock, looked back down at the screen. Aeonus was dead, the whole thing was done, and somebody said, “Great CC, Track!”.

And I was #3 on the damage meters for the run. CC, yeah, but #3 ain’t bad when you’re the wrangler.

Hell, it wasn’t that hard. Burn one down, grab the whelps, trap / sleep the other dragonkin. On the beacon ones, I remember just pumping the rift callers full of bullets and helping pummel the dragons.

But seriously, I was half asleep and I did that. I was much better awake. But nobody’s on during the day, and it was either 2 hours of BG’s, or 2 hours of quests, as I disciplined myself to go for flyer gold or for crossbow.

Then, last week, I just gave up. It had become a job. The fun, the challenge was gone. I was treating mobs like I would if I were PVPing against them, and brought out my 65 pet against 69’s and 70’s to make it more interesting. It felt like I had taken a new job, in place of the old one, and no joy was left for me here. I had skill, but worthy opponents outgeared me; and the only way to get the gear to even the playing field was to laboriously grind out pointless quests to eventually get keyed, and spend hours in other dungeons looking for the pieces that would give me the edge.

I don’t know about you, but the benefits hardly outweigh the effort. So I left, satisfied in my own skill. I’ve beaten better opponents with less gear. But when some foe has almost twice your health, regardless of how good you are and how fast your arrows fly, your doom comes with the slow, plodding steps of a key-turner.

Eff that. 

-Track / Brian 

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