A Life of Saves

We've all been there.  Caught in a sticky situation we know it's too late to talk ourselves out of.  At the tail end of a date that could have gone much, much better had you played things just slightly differently.  Facing a difficult challenge that would be much less intimidating if only you had the option to save your game. 
 
I know that, for as much as I try to live a life without regrets, I do find myself wondering just how different things would be if I hadn't sent that drunk text message to an ex, or if I had taken that promotion instead of quitting my job and running away to England or Seattle or Phoenix (you think I would have learned my lesson at least once).   Hell, even recently I've been thinking that maybe if I got up just a little earlier this past 6 months and did yoga instead of heading straight to work, I might not be quite the embarrassment to the female form as I am today.  And every so often I wish I had a magic save button, just for the piece of mind in knowing there was a do-over in my future, in case I really make a mess of things.
  
Sometimes it's a smack in the face that we live in the real world, and meatspace doesn't offer such securities. 

This has been on my mind a lot recently.  I'll spare you the gory details, save to say that with both my love life and professional career in rapid decline, the ability to stop, review and start over would be invaluable.  But it would also cheapen the whole deal.  What's the point in living if you know you can always go back and change the outcome?  Where is the adventure in that? 
 
I think that is the feature I like most about LA Noire; the lack of gratuitous saves.  Once you have committed to a task, a line of questioning, an accusation, that's it, right or wrong.  It doesn't matter if you're missing a vital piece of evidence and you know exactly where to find it.  It doesn't matter if guilt is written all over the suspect's face.  When you hear those chimes telling you you've fucked up, that's it.  It's like life.  You face the consequences.  Granted, the consequences are minimal (oh no, I only earned 2 stars on that case.  How will I ever be "Distinguished" now?) but they are still there.  Okay, you can always quit and restart, but it means doing all the leg work over again.  Collecting data, examining clues and going through lines and lines of interrogation.  Sure, in the grand scheme of things, that's nothing.  But when you have the attention span of a Mayfly, retracing steps and repeating unskippable dialogue is the ultimate form of torture. 
 
Still, it is a good torture.  It reminds me that you can't always cheat failure.  And that is a lesson I forget all too frequently.

We've all been there.  Caught in a sticky situation we know it's too late to talk ourselves out of.  At the tail end of a date that could have gone much, much better had you played things just slightly differently.  Facing a difficult challenge that would be much less intimidating if only you had the option to save your game. 
 
I know that, for as much as I try to live a life without regrets, I do find myself wondering just how different things would be if I hadn't sent that drunk text message to an ex, or if I had taken that promotion instead of quitting my job and running away to England or Seattle or Phoenix (you think I would have learned my lesson at least once).   Hell, even recently I've been thinking that maybe if I got up just a little earlier this past 6 months and did yoga instead of heading straight to work, I might not be quite the embarrassment to the female form as I am today.  And every so often I wish I had a magic save button, just for the piece of mind in knowing there was a do-over in my future, in case I really make a mess of things.
  
Sometimes it's a smack in the face that we live in the real world, and meatspace doesn't offer such securities. 

This has been on my mind a lot recently.  I'll spare you the gory details, save to say that with both my love life and professional career in rapid decline, the ability to stop, review and start over would be invaluable.  But it would also cheapen the whole deal.  What's the point in living if you know you can always go back and change the outcome?  Where is the adventure in that? 
 
I think that is the feature I like most about LA Noire; the lack of gratuitous saves.  Once you have committed to a task, a line of questioning, an accusation, that's it, right or wrong.  It doesn't matter if you're missing a vital piece of evidence and you know exactly where to find it.  It doesn't matter if guilt is written all over the suspect's face.  When you hear those chimes telling you you've fucked up, that's it.  It's like life.  You face the consequences.  Granted, the consequences are minimal (oh no, I only earned 2 stars on that case.  How will I ever be "Distinguished" now?) but they are still there.  Okay, you can always quit and restart, but it means doing all the leg work over again.  Collecting data, examining clues and going through lines and lines of interrogation.  Sure, in the grand scheme of things, that's nothing.  But when you have the attention span of a Mayfly, retracing steps and repeating unskippable dialogue is the ultimate form of torture. 
 
Still, it is a good torture.  It reminds me that you can't always cheat failure.  And that is a lesson I forget all too frequently.

You have to realize the only thing you truly have is the present. The moment where you hesitate to choose one of the options at your disposal, or the moment after you really screwed it up. No use in going back to the past. 
 
All you have is this moment... and it's gone. ^^