I went to a Red Sox game last week and sat two rows directly behind Pesky’s Pole. In the second inning a fly ball came roaring over the 1st base line towards us. In collective response everyone in my section rose to their feet, their arms outstretched like greedy tentacles. Me? My head is between my knees and my arms are over my head in a self-protective move. Guess I remembered something from those air raid drills in 3rd grade.

The ball nails the mesh extension of the pole and drops inside the park. Foul ball. Half my beer has spilled onto my crotch. A day later I get an email from a friend heckling me. Apparently my incredibly emasculating behavior at Fenway Park was broadcast on national TV for all to see.

This is my Life.

This past Saturday was a rainy day in Boston so I decided to jump online and check out my company’s first ever Second Life party in honor of Brian, a client of ours, and the launch of his new product. I flew around Second Life and found the Cafe specified on the eVite.

Time to make my rounds. I decide to mack out on a couch within two feet of a snuggling couple. Once that got old (aka: I got no reaction from them) I scanned the room for something else to do. I saw a stool on a stage so I decided to go sit on it. Why not? Innocent enough.

Then before I know it Brian’s avatar comes out on stage and begins to answer questions from the crowd. So there I am, sitting quietly on stage behind the main attraction like some sort of petrified gargoyle in pegged jeans. Seriously, why are my jeans pegged in Second Life?! God that’s embarrassing.

I look to my left and in the wings I see JueL Resistance, the musician set to perform after Brian’s talk is done. She IMs me and tells me that I’ll have to move because that’s where she’s going to sit. So I get out of the stool and move a few feet over. JeuL takes her seat and then over the live streaming audio that everyone in the cafe can hear, she asks me to leave the stage. For a brief moment I get excited to hear my name being said, but then I quickly realize that I’m being publicly chastised on the interwebs. I sullenly exit the stage ….and the cafe.

This is my Second Life. …….. not much of a difference.

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