Op-EdMeet the Team for Issue 53Op-Ed - RSS 2.0
Each week we ask a question of our staff and featured writers to learn a little bit about them and gain some insight into where they are coming from.
This week's question is:
In the year 2020, what would a day in your life be like?
Shannon Drake, "The New Gaming Class"
Allen Varney, "Lifegame 2.0"
Rise early at the losmen in Ubud, breakfast on banana roti, answer e-mail and voicemail, hold a four-continent conference call to take care of customer service with the distributed staff of my web game, pack my backpack, catch a bemo to the bus station, bus to Denpasar, fly to Bangkok (more e-mail and game support en route), check in at an Elderhostel, recharge my cash card out of Google Wallet, walk down to the Night Market for mei hoon and fried rice, more customer support, then tape a vlog entry before turning in. Tomorrow, the museum and then off to Chieng Mai.
JR Sutich, Contributing Editor
I spend most of my morning having the usual argument with my son that just because he went to college on the Moon does not mean he is exempt from repaying the student loans he took out on Earth. The rest of the day is spent writing my weekly column for The Escapist, titled "I'm right, you're not."
Joe Blancato, Associate Editor
Joe Blancato was last seen in 2016 at a crossroads in rural Mississippi. In one hand, he held what looked like a manuscript; in the other, a red pen. Stories from the locals vary, but they say, on the right night, you can still hear Joe bickering with Ol' Scratch over movie rights.
Russ Pitts, Associate Editor
Dawn breaks and so does my coffee maker. Damn. I should have bought a new one back when I was an editor at The Escapist and on top of the world. I pour myself another glass of scotch and prepare to face the day. I've been up all night adding the numbers on a page full of red. I need a case. Any case.
That's when she walks in. She's got legs that go all the way to there, and guns that'd make a dead man cry. It's still an hour 'til we open so I tell her to scram. She doesn't scram. They never do. She sits in my chair and lights a cigarette. I wait for her to spill it, but I've heard it all before. Some guy did her wrong and then disappeared. This time it's a brother. A twin. And she just can't live without him. She offers me five grand to track him down. I take it. It sounds like a dirty job, but a case is a case, and besides, it's my job. Has been, anyway, since I wrote that email and sent it to: ALL ...
Now, we pose the question to you: In the year 2020, what would a day in your life be like?