05 March 2010
<-- Check Out The Really Cool French Quarter Building
During my intial recovery from a broken leg I considered how I would spend my time. My first thought was to collect all the history notes from my college classes into an outline, catalog them, retype them, then write the history of our nation as I had learned it. I did this for a couple days but my enthusiasm petered out when I discovered online poker. For two weeks or so I played a tournament a day, sometimes more. Mostly these were free but here and there I threw in a few dollars or less to play. Given my mix of German/Irish temperaments, a few bum tournaments put me in a bad mood. I emm-effed the cards but kept playing. Then I stumbled across Farmville. I started, like everyone does, with a meager lot. I became obsessed with expansion. I kept building my collection of animals but, more importantly, I mortgaged every square inch of my property to grow more crops. I created two dummy Facebook accounts just so I could send myself extra gifts. I was jonesing to work on the farm so bad that a few times I even logged in to my friends account and managed his farm (he had more stuff than me). I had issues. Then I did something of which I am not proud: I put real money into my farm so I could get my greedy mitts on the "Big Plantation".
I grew up on a real farm and as a kid I knew the value of land. My father rented land cheap because it was supposed to be barren and untillable. Well, tough to turn a profit on anyway. My dad told me his secret was lots of fertilzer. As I got older I had visions of a knock-off Southern plantation, with white fence around the perimeter of the front property, a hanging willow near the pond in the front lawn, horse stables out back, deep pastures, and an orchard of apple trees. I would have a little cottage at the back of the property and I would store old records and whiskey there, and after dark I might wander back there to sip whiskey, listen to my records and enjoy the evening. I think I would be successful managing a real farm.
For awhile I was pretty obsessed with getting my Farmville crops planted or harvested because time, to farmers, is money. Oh yeah, I forgot the name of this blog post: Lifeville. Why can't we create an application called Lifeville, in which you could pick and choose a career. You could start out doing homework which would determine where you went to college. Your college work would determine where you placed in your chosen career. After you started you could work your way up, buying new cars and bigger houses and maybe you could even pick your wife. If I had put as much effort into my own Lifeville as I have Farmville, maybe I wouldn't play Farmville so much. But it is nice to think about that cottage and the old records and warm summer air.
at 12:24 PM