Video Game Testers

The stereotypical video game testers you see in television or movies actually do exist.  I am not kidding by any stretch of the imagination, just like my wife isn’t kidding that there are, in fact, people that live Jersey Shore lives for real.  I don’t know what inspired this post, but for some odd reason I am feeling the need to share this one.

The summer between my Junior and Senior year at LMU was the first one that I decided to spend in Los Angeles.  Coincidentally, it was also the last one I spent in Tinseltown.  I was hired that summer as a Resident Advisor, aka the most thankless coolest job in the world, and even got to stay in the same building I had worked in all year. 

For those not familiar with being an RA,  we really only worked at night.  I had insane amounts of free time on my hands, as I was off all day.  There wasn’t anyone I could hang out with, due largely to the fact that everyone there had real jobs (read: unpaid internships or work study jobs all day).  I needed something to stave off the boredom.

A fraternity brother of mine, Kylan, had just started working at a big time video game company. He got me an interview, which as a sane person I nailed, and I was just good enough at video games to pass the “test.”  Actually, that was a lie, I cheated my way through the test session. John (another fraternity brother) knew what he was doing and kept telling me where to go under his breath.  I would have just looked at his screen, but we had cameras on each computer staring us in the face.  That should have been the first sign that I was in over my head in nerd-factor.

From day one to the time I blew up and quit less than one month later, I encountered the following people…

1) Super Video Game Nerd:  My first interaction with this level of nerd occured sometime during the first week.  I had already wanted to jump out the 30th story window due largely it had a direct view of the beach in El Segundo (we worked in dark rooms from 8-5 PM), and asked if anyone knew how to get to the basketball courts in the building, as I heard people could go play pickup games on their lunchbreak.  One acne-covered 30-something year old who looks like the only gym he’s seen was on television asked “why would anyone want to go outside and do that?”  My interaction with this person ceased immediately.

2) The Stoner: These guys definitely hot-boxed in the car on their breaks.  These guys were hired specifically to find flaws in the game (as were all of us), but these guys saw shit that wasn’t there.  In most lines of work, they would have been fired immediately.  In this line of work, the bosses went and hot-boxed with them. 

3) 30 something year old Guys who lived at home and thought $10 an hour was awesome money and they wanted to do this forever. (the first two types of people often coincided with this group)

4) College kids who needed $ (Me!) – My friends and I didn’t really fall into any category above, as we didn’t stay at our stations and play video games during lunch.  The other two were way more adept at the actual trouble shooting part of the job, I was just barely good enough to fake like I knew what I was doing.

True story: I was, for a brief moment in time, the second best player in the world.  Our office would often play online against the teams testing in Ireland and in India.  I would always lose to the same guy every time (he was a combo of types 1 and 3)

Next time you watch “Grandma’s Boy,” just know that these people actually exist, just like my wife tells me the people in Jersey Shore are for real.

Year One of Varsity Coaching

At 24 years old, and with a whopping three years experience, most people wouldn’t take control of an athletic program in a conference that names like Barry Bonds, Tom Brady, Lynn Swann, Greg Jeffries, Dan Fouts, etc. all competed in.  And yet it all, here I am.

As pumped as I was at the prospect of coaching my Alma Mater’s Varsity Volleyball program that not only was I a part of, but my brother as well  (who also managed to get MVP honors and his name on the banner this past season as a result).  I was a bit worried that of my 8 man rotation (two of which were “All League”) of “starters,” only three would be returning…

Fast forward just ONE week after getting hired, and two have transferred to other schools.  To make it worse, these guys started on a team in THE toughest conference in Northern California last season as SOPHOMORES.  Needless to say, I had high hopes for these two.  One of them I had spent the past two years working with personally, as I played the same position he did.  He left the state.  The icing on the cake, however, is that my expected starter at one of the Hitter positions (and a kid who is built like a bull, with “Future All League Player” written all over him) transferred to another school in our conference…

Not to say there isn’t hope, the team I inherited is incredibly young (we had 4 sophomores on Varsity last year) and some other guys are coming along quickly.  The other returner can play almost every position on the court, and play all of them pretty well to boot.  I have a lot of confidence in the guys who are going to be there when the season starts, but losing 5 starters and two more rotational guys who played huge roles on the team really hurts.

If I’m totally honest, I kind of figured this would happen.  And there are ways that we’re going to compensate for losing two really key starters to other schools and other states, but I feel a bit like Lou Brown in the second Major League movie, with stuff changing and guys coming and going.  Then he had a heart attack and had to be hospitalized for the remainder of the film (which was also the turning point in their season).

Eventually they won the ALCS and went on to the World Series.  I sure hope that we can win too, I just really don’t want to have a heart attack for that to happen.

I am a Kidult

For the past couple of weeks, the same three kids have come into my classroom while I’m teaching in the computer lab to take out my recycling (no one is in my room, and I’m on the opposite end of campus).  Recently some of the kids have been drawing some funny things on my whiteboard as well as some really artistic things – the ASB President drew a really cool floral design on a part of my whiteboard.  I was having an especially crappy day, and I think they picked up on it and tried to make me laugh.  I’ll preface this with the following – If it were any students other than the ones who drew it, I would think it was mildly insulting.

The drawing was funny, but the Pizza Delivery Expert/History Professor thing…

Teachers are real people too!

I am entirely convinced my students view me as nothing more than a walking Encyclopedia.

Remember being in middle school, as  a disinterested an impressionable 12-13 year old who hated the concept of a 50 minute math or english class?  I certainly do.

Now think about your teachers that you had.  I remember my History teachers as knowers of useless information who had completely lost touch with what being a kid is like.  I also remember them talking about going to a museum and how it would be a great field trip, but I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about what they were like as a person.

To make a long story longer, kids in middle school view teachers as nothing more than knowers of needless information that they will never need again in their life (the only exception being WWII video games, but even then they just shoot their friends online and not play the story that has a TINY bit of relevance).

My students classify as mildly shocked that I play video games, ride dirtbikes and wakeboard better than any of them are capable of.  Every conversation I have with my students revolves around whether or not I saw a certain History Channel documentary or if I saw the latest exhibit at some San Francisco museum.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the fact they are actually taking an interest in the subject matter and are willing to discuss it.  In fact, that is one of the most rewarding parts of teaching.  I hope they carry that interest throughout their education.  I just find it a little off-putting that they are convinced teachers have no lives, but in a lot of ways, I feel like the anti teacher – the exception to the rule.

The teachers even want to talk to me about whatever museum has the new exhibit, and ask me if I’m excited to see the King Tut exhibit that actually has none of his artifacts, but rather those of one of his 5000 siblings.  In fact, the advertisement for that exhibit featured his gold casket covering, which was not actually part of the exhibit itself.  But I digress.  The fact of the matter is that students don’t realize teachers have interests outside of teaching.  And no, we don’t go home and discuss students with each other on the phone (but apparently I do go home and blog about teaching).

Teachers are people too, I can’t go to the movies without seeing a current or former student, and they always look horrified that I saw her and her boyfriend walking into a movie (I really could care less about what they do in the movie, so long as its a different movie than the one I’m walking into).  I suppose they could be less horrified that I saw them than they are surprised that I have a life (sort-of).

No kids, grading papers is NOT fun.  Making tests is about as fun as a root-canal.  And, sadly, I leave work and go work more when I coach.  And honestly, does anyone that knows me think I have ANY interest in “Glee?”  No, I refuse to watch a show about a school, when I spend 10 hours a day at a school.  It’s too hard to be a teacher 24 hours a day.  Hell, I’d prefer to spend my fleeting moments of down time trying to avoid getting a concussion in my Muay Thai class over watching some documentary on Henry VIII.

Funny Stuff as it happens

When reviewing images of slavery, a kid said under his breath,

“Damn, she got owned.”

“She” refers to a slave being whipped. Unfortunately for him the class had just gotten really quiet, and the entire class subsequently turned and stared at him. He realized there was no getting out of this and lucky for him all my kids thought it was funny, but I didn’t know if I was supposed to be laughing or put on the serious game face in order to give an aura of maturity. I was more in disbelief than anything else.

The Prius Brigade

Look around middle school and high school campuses around the country.  Head on over to the teacher’s lot and tell me what the most common mode of transportation is?  If you said Toyota Prius, you win!

The sheer number of them (there are four to five times as many Prius’ as any other individual car at the school where I work) makes me question my own environmental practices. Perhaps my most questionable decision has been using two stroke oil mixed with racing fuel to start a fire of pallets when camping out with dirtbikes and trucks.  My carbon footprint is massive…

Another fail occurred during last year’s seventh grade Yosemite trip, I was one of the teachers asked to drive a car up for the week as an “Emergency Vehicle.”  This was an uncommonly cold spring in NorCal, and Yosemite had seen snow well into the month of May.  Unbeknownst to me, I was the only teacher who believed that four wheel drive is a positive asset in the mountains when snow is falling.  I had assumed that someone would’ve thought along the same lines as myself, but alas, I was wrong.

When I arrived at the school the morning of the trip, I was startled.  We were heading into the mountains, just after a snowfall and with more expected later in the week, with three Toyota Prius’ and my brother’s 4X4 SUV I had borrowed.  In most cases, this would be acceptable, but this wasn’t just any SUV, it was a Hummer. A Hummer that happened to come with all the off-road bells and whistles you could get, right down to the “mileage somewhere in the teens” option that I’m surprised General Motors doesn’t advertise as standard equipment.  After running the numbers, I realized I was burning as much fuel as the three Priuses (Pri-i?) combined.  Another fail in the “preserving the environment” category.  Then it snowed.  My decision looked a bit smarter once the roads started getting closed down.

No that isn't my car... Mine is black!

When it came time to replace my Firebird (which got 30 MPG), I made another eco-unwise choice.  I swear that once I didn’t buy a Japanese commuter or a tin-can, I was being judged.  Blame it on the domestic nameplate and a car that proudly bore a “6.0L V8″ and “GT” badging on it.  I may get 15 MPG, but I fear no Mustang at a stop light, and the car is LOUD (an important selling point when marketing a car to members of the Woropay household).  Though if I had known the price of fuel would have doubled since the time I bought the car in November, I just might have opted for the white Volkswagen GTI I very nearly bought.

Prius drivers can judge me all they want.  The fact is that I value the experience a vehicle can provide.  I don’t see a car as just a method of getting from point “A” to point “B.”  I also think a car says a lot about the person who drives it.  Case in point – BMW drivers care more about being seen driving the car than actually driving it (which I suspect is why my future wife will be buying one in a few months), Guys with 6+ inch lifts on a truck care more about how it looks than how it performs off road (it’s no longer practical after 4 inches), Corvette drivers value how fast it goes over the quality of the parts of the car you actually come into contact with (like seats!), and the list goes on and on (The last, admittedly, describes me).

The important thing to remember, Mr. Prius Man, is that  - Unless it’s electric –  we’re all still chained to the pump.

What can you do with a B.A. in History?

I know that isn’t the lyric, but that’s where I ended up after $200k worth of college.  I am new to blogging – which at one point was the bane of my existence during my reasonably successful, but brief, foray into Sports Journalism – and after reading some funny stuff posted by my good friend Cady, decided to give it a go.

For those who don’t know me (but lets be real, no one is going to find this interesting except for my Aunt Peach), I went to Loyola Marymount University (aka “Lotta Money U”) and Majored in History (one of the more useless majors you can have).  After that, out of sheer desperation, I applied to grad schools and got into USF’s Sports Managements Masters in order to become a pro talent scout, and also Notre Dame Belmont’s Teaching Credential Program.  Why I made the decision to take the exciting venture into teaching, I’ll never know.

So instead of traveling the world looking for the next great Shortstop, I spend my days teaching kids about History less than five miles from where I grew up (by “teaching” I really mean, “explaining why history is relevant” almost every day to students who, quite frankly, learn most of their history from the Call Of Duty video game franchise).

The best part of this whole experience lies in the simple fact that I am no more mature than the students in my classroom.  On numerous occasions, I have been called a “kidult.”  I find myself at this weird age where I completely understand the pop-culture references in my classroom, and manage to make some jokes that the kids ACTUALLY find funny.  And no, I am not talking about your gray-haired, eighth grade teacher who has been teaching at the same school for 35 years and is still using jokes that stopped being funny during the Reagan administration.

I shouldn’t be so harsh though.  It is an incredibly rewarding career (so long as your definition of rewarding does not include actual monetary compensation, and an almost complete lack of job security) that does have some benefits.  For starters, I get to be 13 years old again from 8 AM to 3 PM five days a week, 16 from 3-5 PM when I coach my old high school volleyball team  (that my brother and his friends play for) and then feel 31 when I come home to my future wife and dog, car payments, medical bills and wedding planning.

It’s a rather dramatic change of pace that in some ways is really refreshing, and something only a person who works with kids every day can even begin to understand.  I have, unfortunately, regressed considerably in my emotional development…