Quiz #52. PTFO
What can playing video games teach us about surviving the coronavirus? Steve's Stay-at-Home Coronavirus Quiz for May 13, 2020.
Working from home is already its own out of context experience.
A morning commute that’s a walk down the stairs.
Listening to your partner or child run a meeting or argue with a coworker.
Video conference calls where coworkers see your home--and you see theirs.
For me, there’s an extra out of context component. I work in the afternoon and evenings until midnight. That means at night, I am working-from-home while Sara, John and Will are at home and NOT working-from-home.
We have three bedrooms on our second floor. (The doors all socially distant and six feet apart.) My office is set up inside our guest bedroom. At night, Sara watches TV in the master bedroom while John is often in the third bedroom, on xbox, playing various war games with friends from college, many of whom have fled New York City like John and are working from home--working from their family’s home.
Playing war games on xbox is apparently an intense experience. Even with the doors closed, it was initially alarming for Sara and me. Our hearts raced when we first heard John yelling from his room, “Look out! There’s a guy on the roof!”
Several months in though, it’s now oddly comforting to hear the quiet of my work evening interrupted with John’s shouting, “Fuck!” (Our second floor now comes with its own movie trailer warning, “Brief Strong Language.” See Quiz #50. 63.)
Will has set up a garden apartment in the basement so misses this nighttime routine of excitement on the second floor, but he is no stranger to the thrill of video war games. At a recent dinner, Sara and I were talking about John’s verbal intensity with his friends. John explained that video war games are a team activity. The most popular game is Battlefield, a team game where team members work to fulfill a series of tasks, with an end-goal to, in essence, capture the flag—while killing people along the way.
Will told us that there’s a useful phrase-turned-acronym in the video game lexicon for people playing the game “Battlefield.” It’s called PTFO. Will sent me the definition from the Urban Dictionary.
“PTFO” as defined by the Urban Dictionary.
PTFO.
Play the Fucking Objective.
Note Well:
For those who thought that “input” was misspelled above, you’re right--but you’re wrong. The Urban Dictionary spelled it as “imput” on purpose. It seems it’s a way to mock anyone who gives, well, input. (What a world.)
“imput” as defined by the Urban Dictionary.
Back to PTFO, Will and Sara told me how they had used the phrase in their discussions over the last two months on what we should—and should not—do about food and deliveries during the pandemic. Focus on the task at hand and how it relates to the final goal—staying alive—without getting sidetracked on side missions.
And so it is with all of coronavirus these days.
PTFO.
Going back through some of the earlier quizzes in this series from March (Remember March?), I was reminded of what I wrote below in Quiz #5. Shelter in Place on March 18th. On March 16th, San Francisco issued one of the first stay-at-home orders in the country. They called it “shelter-in-place” and a lot of people objected to that term because of its association with active shooter warnings.
The phrase “shelter in place” is so alarming and upsetting because it’s what you’re supposed to do when there’s an active shooter. You don’t leave your classroom or office because the shooter might be outside with a gun. You hide, protect yourself and shelter in place.
But as horrible as hiding from an active shooter must be, sheltering in place for coronavirus is frightening in a whole new way. With the virus, you don’t know who you’re supposed to be hiding from. When you come out from behind the door, you don’t know who’s safe--and who’s not.
What’s more, if a person is contagious for coronavirus before they show symptoms, they themselves don’t even know that they’re the one you should be hiding from.
Two months later, on Wednesday, May 13th, given what’s coming next, I think that “shelter in place” actually is closer to the right metaphor than “stay at home.” As businesses start to reopen and more and more people venture out, we don’t know who’s “safe” and who’s not--and they don’t know either.
I haven’t been on a plane lately--hell, I haven’t been inside a store for two months--but last week on May 8th in The Atlantic, McKay Coppins wrote “I Just Flew. It Was Worse Than I Thought It Would Be.”
But flying during a pandemic turned out to be more stressful—and surreal—than I’d planned for. The scenes played out like a postapocalyptic movie: Paranoid travelers roamed the empty terminals in masks, eyeing one another warily as they misted themselves with disinfectant. Dystopian public-service announcements echoed through the airport—“This is a message from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention ...” Even the smallest, most routine tasks—such as dealing with the touch-screen ticketing kiosk—felt infused with danger.
I do not have the answers and I know I am venturing into darker thoughts.
Uncertainty.
Danger.
Fear.
What can we do?
PTFO.
I have a friend who remains in New York City. That friend reports how concerned they are when they walk outside and come across--as they often do--someone not wearing a mask or covering their face. I am always reminded that the thing about masks for people in the general public is that they’re not meant to protect the person who is wearing them. Wearing a mask helps prevent you from spreading the virus.
Anyone who refuses to wear a mask is showing their lack of concern for others.
Living in society is--or should be--a team sport.
Stay at home.
Stop the spread.
Wear a mask.
PTFO.
What did NOT happen?
A. On Tuesday, my friend Ryan texted me, “Hi!” A reference to Quiz #50. 63. It was the only such text that I received;
B. On Tuesday, my daughter Annie observed that I had violated many of my own rules in writing up Quiz #50. 63. I replied, “Indeed;”
C. On Wednesday, my son Ted texted me, “Stewart Galeucia?” A Google search revealed he’s an adult male from Greenwich, an optometrist. Ted was trying to solve the mystery from Quiz #51. Is Your Father Named Stewart? but my sister Ginny reported that the name did not ring a bell;
D. On Wednesday in “Grace Over Spite,” Bill Murphy Jr. changed the rating system for his Understandably newsletter to use Google forms for its 5-star ratings (which I copied). I have added some components of his system to my own--and you can now let me know if your comments in your reviews are on--or off--the record;
E. My sister Susan called me to let me know that she’d heard from a friend from Girl Scout Camp. The woman had read Quiz #51. Is Your Father Named Stewart?, noticed the nickname “Sport” and wanted to reconnect with Susan.
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Want more?
Here’s the next quiz in the series: Quiz #53. This Bud’s For You.
Here’s the previous quiz in the series: Quiz #51. Is Your Father Named Stewart?
Here’s the first quiz in the series: Quiz #1. Stella and Social Distancing, March 13, 2020
Here is an archive of all the quizzes.
The quiz is explained here: Steve’s Stay-at-Home Coronavirus Quiz.
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