A few summers ago, the Matty-shack inhabitants hosted an exchange student from France. He was a remarkable guest, and showing off the wonders and sights of the Northwest rekindled my own awe of this area. Nothing like playing tourist in your own backyard to see it through fresh eyes. His English was exceptional, and would punctuate many thoughts or expressions with the word, "perfect." In his wonderful accent, it would come out "purr-feckt" and I can still hear it in my mind.
There are many folks we meet along the way who deserve the title "Awesomesauce." Our virtual bannermen who carry our sigils with honor. Many players who are kind, throw down those healthstones or mage tables, and toss out feasts like Skittles. Many who answer a question with thoughtfulness and concern, and we must include certainly the realm of bloggers, our own Writers' Guild of Renown. They are truly "purrfeckt."
But this post isn't about them. This is about the perfectionists. Perfectionists are annoying. They freeze up when faced with decision making, and are striving for unobtainable, and unnecessary, goals.
Every time I encounter a perfectionist like the DK Juggerballs, I think of one of my favorite Tom Robbins' quotes, about the performance levels of Cheerios:
…they leave the reader puzzling over exactly what might be meant by the “performance” of the Cheerios.
Could the Cheerios be in bad voice? Might they not handle well on curves? Do they ejaculate too quickly? Has age affected their timing or are they merely in a mid-season slump? Afflicted with nervous exhaustion or broken hearts, are the Cheerios smiling bravely, insisting that the show must go on?
… do Cheerios measure up to Wheaties with beer, would they mix well with batshit in times of strife, would Ed Sullivan have signed them, would Knute Rockne have recruited them, how well do these little motherfuckers perform?
From Tom Robbins' Still Life With Woodpecker
Players' over-aggrandized expectations are a buzzkill. Don't misunderstand me: I am not putting the heavy-hitters, or the true elites in this category. The players who have made a near career over getting to the highest achievements of raiding and mechanics, but maintain overarching understanding roles of exceptional leadership and team organizational and psychological nuances. I would put Matticus in this class. No, I'm talking about the small-minded souls who expect, nay demand, perfection from every one around them. They have no sense of humor, social context, or patience for any one other than themselves.
But I got news for most folks: you ain't no Matticus. And neither am I. We are Cheerios.
There are few situations that are truly life-or-death. Surgery, trauma, rescue crews, rocket ship engineers, generals, peanut allergies, or not putting the toilet seat down. And again, I'm not talking about the far end of the spectrum: the highest ends of performance to the lowest, trolling, LFR AFK nitwits. The middle-of-the-road. The mediocre. The average. There is a sweet spot where the Cheerios do what they are intended to do, where form meets function. To expect any more is futile. So unless you are in charge of saving lives or launching moon missions, I suggest you start bringing some fun to the game.
Theme Song: Awkward/San Cisco
Always two sides to every story. Maybe DK Juggerballs is just that awesome. What do I know?
Hear, hear! If I were to think about what kind of player I am, I'd have to say I'm mac and cheese. I'm a mac and cheese player. I'm not that good for you but on the other hand I'm not deadly.ReplyDelete
I'm still trying to figure out why groups for world bosses seems to have the people playing for enjoyment in them and LFR did not.