I just got back from a weekend camping trip and am hip-deep into the neverending pile of laundry that these sorts of “group” trips involve.  Just me and my kids, heck, they can wear the same shirt for three days, but go with a group of families you know and interact with on a regular basis and, hey, better have fresh shorts and socks for *every* day you are out in a tent.

Which brings me to the subject of towels.

Like any platinum level card-carrying geek, the first thing that pops into my head when staring at the pile of unwashed beach towels is, “always remember where your towel is”.  The second thing that pops into my head is “wait, they had the wrong towels in the movie”.  Referring of course to the recent 2005 Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (as opposed to the metric oodle of other variations on the IP).

See, growing up near the ocean, we have these amazing beach towels.  Beach towels so large and luxurious you could potentially have sex on them, on the beach, and still not get sand in the works (so to speak).  So when the term “towel” shows up anywhere, this is the first type of towel that comes to mind.  This is, in fact, the *perfect* kind of towel for travel, big enough to serve as a blanket if you end up sleeping in the back of a lorry, thick enough to dry off three kids, a spouse and the family dog if you get stuck in the rain, tough enough to allow you to sunbathe on a field of broken glass, were you to be so unfortunate to be stuck in such a place.  So, to me, naturally, if you need to know where your towel is, this is the towel you are going to be looking for.

But in the movie they had these panzy-a** little hotel towels.  The kind you don’t feel bad about stealing because they are so chintzy and small that you’d be better of with a box of Kleenex and a wet-nap.  Okay, yes, they are portable, easy to stuff in a pocket, carrying a towel of this stripe around with you is most certainly a touch more on the side of the ludicrous than carrying something that might genuinely have purpose.

Which then brings me to preconceptions and misconceptions, and more particularly whether or not these things can ruin a game experience.  Advertising and product development have been aware of these kinds of things for a long time.  McDonalds, for example, puts mustard on their cheeze burgers in certain parts of the US, and in other places they may or may not use those nasty little diced onions.  In games we see “import” versions of games that can include different content than you might have in a US release (should the game in question actually have a US release).

With the market for games seemingly heading for a separation into ponderous, multi-year development AAA titles and smaller, nimbler, fast-release mobile/web titles, I’m starting to wonder if it might be an interesting move to regionalize these smaller games.  Release one version of Castle Crashers in west Texas, but a slightly different version in NYC for example.  Similar things are being done.  As a current example, the new DrWho game is only available in the UK, and you’re blocked from downloading it if you live elsewhere.  (Yes, yes, I KNOW you can get your hands on it by other, slightly more nefarious means, but I’m taking a “high-road” approach here).

The question, I guess, would be in how you target the specific differences.  McDonalds knows (through focus group testing and trial and error) that BBQ sauce A fits the tastes of the Deep South better than BBQ sauce B.  Is it even possible to target games in such a specific manner, or does the historically more “global” nature of games mean that we’ve already begun to homogenize the gaming community to the point where these kinds of local differences are simply not worth the effort?

I’ve been engaged in a lot of biz-dev stuff lately.  Not so much “productive” biz dev, I haven’t been signing contracts (outside of NDA’s which I’ve begun to hand out like Chiclets in a Tiajuana dive-bar), but lots of meets and greets and deeper dives into the world of finance and cost analysis and all sorts of places I haven’t been for quite a long time (not since I left my Series 7 at the door and went into videogames).

It’s been interesting.  Normally I’m not the social butterfly type, getting up the oomph to speak with a total stranger in a room full of total strangers in suits and ties takes a bit of doing for me.  If alcohol didn’t wreak such irritating havoc on my creative capacity, I’d probably need a stiff shot before attempting any sort of real conversation, but it it’s turning into something I don’t completely suck at.  Which is a good thing.

I have all these irons in the fire right now.  A couple of them are approaching hot, just coming up at the point where I will need to strike.  They’re almost all connected, all branching and supporting one another.  Once one goes hot, the rest are going to follow in short order and I am talking, asking questions, seeking advice for the things I am going to need to put into play. 

I ask questions.  I ask a LOT of questions.  I ask a lot of n00b questions in the areas in which I am not yet well-versed, and occasioanlly make statements that are not so much designed to prove I am an expert (which, lets face it I’m not even close in many of these fields) but to provoke a conversation that will allow me to ask those questions.  Sometimes these conversations are less than pleasant (particularly if I’ve hit a nerve unintentionally) but they are *all* a learning experience, they are all the chance to meet someone new, to find someone who can give me a glimpse behind the closed door of my immediate future.

And it’s a heck of a lot more fun than it ought to be.