There's a saying out there:
"It's all based on performance."
And, as much as I'm a process sort of gal, I've got to confess, at the end of the
day, performance is where it's at. Performance matters.
This may be one reason why my Second Life avatar causes me stress. And anxiety.
I've already mentioned that in my real life, among other things, I collect etiquette books. I also used to
teach kindergarten. I pride
myself with knowing proper behavior and just the right thing to do in social situations. My Second Life
avatar meets very few of my real life standards for socialization and good manners. In short, her performance is lousy. And this bothers me. A lot.
Sure, my avatar looks good enough. She may not be the most beautiful avatar in the virtual world, but she is not an eye sore. She doesn't
have fancy clothes, largely because the woman behind the avatar, and that would be me, doesn't
have the Second Life time and interest to devote towards outfitting her with an exciting and
extensive wardrobe. As they say in real life, "I'd rather be shopping at Nordstrom's." And not the virtual one.
My avatar spends most of her Second Life time with small groups of avatar friends. She also spends a lot of time on a balcony on one of the Sun islands, gazing out at the Second Life ocean. Simple things for a simple avatar. I'm totally OK with that.
Come to think about it, it's kind of like my avatar is in kindergarten. Only in avatar kindergarten, the skills are slightly different than real life kindergarten. My avatar is just learning, but not yet proficient at, communication, gestures, dressing herself, and moving around without running into walls, or worse yet, other avatars. As long as she's by herself, or in the company of other "young" avatars, she's just fine. And, just like it should be in kindergarten, my avatar "feels good about herself."
But just because my avatar has the benefit of a positive self-concept, it does not mean that she is ready for major parts of the big, wide virtual world. Here's where the stress and anxiety comes in. It bothers me that she is a socially inexperienced avatar, and can't move easily about the entire
Second Life world. She's just not ready. Worse than that, I have no clue as to when, if ever, she will be.
Consider this unfortunate situation.
One of my avatar friends invited my avatar to a Q&A session about Sun in Virtual Worlds last Friday.
The event was sponsored by Sun Facebook Fridays and Sun in Second Life.
In real life, this is the kind of stuff I love, attending an event with friends. Yet, as interested as I was in attending, I hesitated. I just wasn't sure that my avatar was up to the challenge. My friends encouraged me. It didn't matter that my avatar didn't have business attire or that she was a little socially inept. I was assured that all would be fine.
Before we go any further, let me tell you a bit about my computer. I run Second Life on a Mac iBook G4, and I won't bore you (or myself) with the technical specifications of the machine. I will tell you that it meets all the required technical specifications for running Second Life, but not the recommended ones. When it runs Second Life, it's slow. Very slow. And hot.
So slow, that when I encounter a complicated Second Life landscape to render,
it takes a painfully long time for it to come into view. My Mac also gets so hot when I run Second Life that I should possibly be using a chill pad, which, so far I've been too lazy to purchase. I have a MacBook Pro on order, which will arrive in several weeks.
Then there is the bandwidth problem. My home DSL bandwidth is too low to effectively
do Second Life. I need a faster rate and am in the process of getting one.
My real life tech friends assure me that the arrival of the MacBook Pro will greatly enhance my Second Life. The down side of the new computer is that once I solve the computer performance issues, it'll really be all up to me and my avatar.
Back to the Facebook event. It's Friday morning at the appointed time. I login and confidently teleport to the correct Sun building. No one was there. Alas, I was lost, and I couldn't find the conference
room. Not to worry. Help from one of the Sun mentors was only an IM and teleport away. I arrived at the entrance to the conference room and immediately spotted one of my avatar friends. She wasn't wearing anything but her hair. Even though this was my avatar friend who had previously lost her hair, I know that she always wears clothes. As my avatar stood in disbelief, my friend's clothes gradually appeared.
As I slowly maneuvered my avatar into the conference room, I realized that I was having major performance issues. The crowded conference room came into view very slowly, finally showing me a large room full of naked avatars sitting around on benches waiting for the presentation to begin. As the avatars, one by one, acquired their clothes, I moved my avatar in the direction of an empty seat.
Finding an empty seat in that conference room proved to be more difficult than learning to fly at the
Sun avatar obstacle course. With every move that my avatar made, the conference room redrew itself
on my screen. The screen redraw rate was abysmal, making it virtually impossible to adequately judge where an empty bench was, never mind sit down on it.
In the course of what was probably only 5 real life minutes, I royally embarrassed myself and my
avatar. First of all, my avatar tried to sit down on a bench
between two avatars only to be told (by Second Life, not the sitting avatars) that the bench was "full." One of my avatar friends has since told me that he thought I was being very assertive trying to sit down in that particular spot. "Assertive," no. "Desperate," yes. After being refused a spot on the bench between my friends, I found another bench.
The bench was empty and I was relieved. But not for long. The problem with the empty bench was that I maneuvered my avatar onto the top of the bench, which was not the proper position from which to execute the "sit down" command. So, there I stood, on top of the bench, in this crowded conference room, for what seemed like eternity. I obsessed about exactly how to move my avatar off the bench, to a position where I could execute the sit down command and safely and inobtrusively sit down on the bench and listen to the presentation, which by the way, (and it further embarrasses me to admit this), had already started. I was terrified to move my avatar for fear that she'd end up in an even worse position than she was already in. She was already standing on top of a bench. What if I moved her to a position where she was standing on top of another avatar? Without a doubt, that would be much worse.
The anxiety was killing me. It was then that I decided to take the easy way out. I simply logged out of Second Life. For those in the Sextans conference room, I'd guess that I just disappeared. For me, I returned to real life, where I am familiar with the rules, environment, and social expectations. I felt a huge sense of relief.
Sadly, I didn't leave my Second Life humiliation back in Second Life. I called one of my real life tech friends to tell him of my mortifying Second Life experience. He explained that between the limitations of my current computer, home internet service, and the complexity of the graphics required to render the presentation in the conference room, it was no wonder that I was having difficulty. There were serious computer performance issues, soon to be solved by my new MacBook Pro and faster DSL.
So, for the next several weeks, I can attribute at least part of my avatar's inept behavior to the poor performance of the computer and internet service that operates her. But once the MacBook Pro arrives
and I get the new DSL, it's all over.
Or just maybe, it's all beginning. The tech folks assure me that the new computer will make it easier for me to control my avatar. Assuming that that happens, she really will behave better. I have high hopes that this will happen, given that when I tried flying in Second Life from my friend's more powerful computer, I was much more successful.
Getting back to the title of this blog entry, performance really does matter. I can whine all I want about my computer and DSL, but the bottom line is, my avatar couldn't sit down on that bench, and she looked like an idiot at that presentation.
Excuses were never one of my strong suits. High expectations have been known to cause me more than a little anxiety. Rest assured that I'm working on my avatar's performance issues.
She may never be the most fashionable avatar on the virtual block but that's not who I want her to be. But I do expect that she'll be able to travel about and attend events without making a fool of herself and causing a spectacle.
She's already a really nice avatar. One who's easy to chat with and
fun to be around. She has a good circle of avatar friends. That's important stuff. There's no question that she has some behavior issues. We're working on that.
But, everyone, even an avatar, eventually graduates from kindergarten. And, as I used to tell the parents of my kindergarten students who thought that their kids would never make it, "it just takes some of us longer than others." Even avatars.