Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Good Guys Finish First

Never take no for an answer.

My brother and I have always been very different from one another. I am the typical oldest child: outgoing, talkative, and very social. My brother on the other hand is the typical middle child: quiet, shy, and keeps to himself. Growing up, I loved playing sports and have always been the dramatic one. Danny (yes, he'll always be Danny to me) never really liked playing sports, instead opting for Robotics and the like. He also was the levelheaded child and things never really ruffled his feathers.

We could always find Danny in front of a television clicking away on his video game controller. From a very young age, video games fascinated my brother and he was often lost in his little video world. At 8-years-old, he proclaimed that when he grew-up he would design video games.

Danny always received the short end of the stick. My sister and I always made sports teams, whereas he always seemed to get cut. I passed my license on the first try, whereas he failed twice over BS reasons (the instructor ended up getting fired due to this.) You get the idea.

Fast-forward to high school: My brother went to an all boys' jock school. As a self-proclaimed nerd, this wasn't always easy for him. He was in the Robotics Club, which most guys at this school looked at as uncool. My parents and my brother were also often at war over how long he spent playing video games versus socializing and other hobbies.

Senior year arrived and my brother announced that he'd attend Georgia Tech to study Computational Media. We were all so proud of him for going after his biggest dream.

Once at Georgia Tech, I watched him struggle through GT's rigorous curriculum. I was stunned at how intense Georgia Tech was. There were no in-betweens when it came to grades. Meaning, Georgia Tech only had A, B, C, D, and F.

We'd often have late-night calls where my usually unflappable brother freaked out to me about his grades and how hard his classes were. I told him to keep trying and not to give-up. Everything would work-out, I said.

My inspiration

This year marked Danny's senior year at Georgia Tech and with that came the job hunt. I gave him as many tips and pointers as I could to try and ease what was a miserable process for myself.

He called me the day he found out he had landed an interview with Zynga, a social gaming company. I can honestly say I have never heard him so excited before. He was supposed to go to Florida for his Spring Break trip, but opted to fly out to San Francisco for his interview instead. In his words, "I'd rather have my interview now, so I don't miss school and have to stress out about school work." I was struck by his maturity and wondered if I would have done the same thing in that situation.

The night after his interview, I called him to see how it went. He was exhausted, as his interview had gone from 10 am until 3 pm and he had spoken to six different people. He told me he thought he did very well, yet he still sounded defeated. I asked him what was wrong. "Nothing ever goes in my favor. I gave the interview everything I had. I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't get it."

The following day I had a missed call from him. Danny doesn't call me for stupid reasons, so I knew it was something big. I called back and he told me his plane had run out of gas and got struck by lightning. His plane had to make an emergency landing in Phoenix.

Obviously I was concerned for my brother's well being, but I couldn't help but think "Oh, that's why you called." Just as I was thinking this, Danny's voice cut in, "Annnd Zynga just called and offered me the job!" I'm pretty sure the scream I let out after this statement may have punctured my brother's eardrums. I immediately burst into tears (remember when I said I was the dramatic child at the beginning of this post?) and congratulated him over and over again. I could hear the pure joy in my brother's voice.

I started asking him a million and one questions about the position. He told me he most likely would have to work fourteen-hour days to begin with. "I don't mind working that much because I'm going to be waking up and doing what I love every day," he said. I was awed by the power of this statement.

8-year-old Danny's proclamation was no longer just a proclamation. The 21-year-old Danny had made the proclamation a reality.  My brother is a true testament to the fact that good guys do finish first. Also, that dreams do come true when you don't give up and never take no for an answer.

Danny, you amaze me and I cannot wait to see the mark you make on the gaming world. Zynga is lucky to have such a hard worker on their team. Congratulations on this amazing feat! You are my inspiration.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Is This Real Life?

One of my favorite things about living in New York City is that without a doubt, you will experience something crazy every day. Some encounters have left me shaking my head and pulling a David After Dentist as I ask myself, "Is this real life?" I've decided to start posting some of my favorite experiences for your entertainment.  I promise everything I post is 100% true- most of the stories are too good to make up.

I'll start with my most recent encounter:

A few weekends ago, I went home to spend time with my family and friends. The day I returned to New York, Mother Nature decided a monsoon would be appropriate travel weather. Of course I didn't pack accordingly, so I didn't have any sort of rain resistant apparel.

Normally I would walk a few blocks away from Penn Station to hail a cab, but any New Yorker knows that when it rains you have a very rare chance at finding a cab. Due to this fact, I decided to wait in one of the never-ending cab lines.


Image via: http://tinyurl.com/4cesdqb


Much to my surprise, the line moved pretty steadily. I was close to the front when I noticed a he/she with bad extensions getting into a cab. Cabs normally floor it as soon as the passenger shuts the door, but this cab sat there for five minutes. Suddenly, the he/she emerged from the cab screaming into his/her cell phone and proceeded to bang on the trunk to get his/her luggage.

The cab driver flew out of the driver's side like a bat out of hell screaming, "DON'T YOU CALL ME A MODAF*CKER!!! YOU DA MODAF*CKER!!" The he/she flicked the cab driver off and they both proceeded to get in each other's faces.

As the he/she and cab driver were involved in their little scrum, the Flyers/Rangers game let out of Madison Square Garden. A drunk Flyers fan suddenly screamed out, "WHATEVER! WE'RE STILL IN FIRST PLACE AND YOU STILL SUCK!" Choruses of "You Suck!" and "F*ck you!" rang out from Rangers fans. Keep in mind that I am an intense Philadelphia fan and I love torturing New York fans just as much as the next guy, but we had just lost SEVEN TO NOTHING.

A drunk Rangers fan approached the drunken Flyers fan and some heated words were exchanged. I thought a fistfight was about to commence, but luckily a cop intervened and split the two up.

Just as I thought I had enough excitement for one twenty-minute interval, a car pulled up and a woman got out. She shouted loudly, "Is this Madison Square Garden?" A guy behind me in line yelled out in a stereotypical New York accent, "Uh yeah, dumb a**. What do you want,  for it to jump out at you?!"

Around this time I asked myself, "Is this real life?" Luckily, I had arrived at the front of the line and was quickly ushered to a cab.

I sat back as the cab pulled away from Madison Square Garden/Penn Station, and I couldn't help but laugh. I thought to myself, "Home sweet home."