NOA Paul's Journals

The links to the eight journal entries

Paul

NOA Paul's Journals was a segment of the official Nintendo website. The segment functioned as an online journal occasionally updated by Paul, usually involving behind-the-scenes stories from Paul. The journals were available from the "Newsroom" section of the official Nintendo website (prior to its rebranding as Nsider) alongside a secondary set of journals, which were referred to as "NOA Scott's Journals". Eight journals have been archived, and six out of the eight reference the Super Mario franchise.

Journal 1

The Call Center is the place at Nintendo of America where we say "Hi" to the legions of game-players and answer zillions of their questions. Such as: How do I reach Fuwa-Fuwa Island in Super Adventure Island II? Where is the switch that drains the moat in Super Mario 64?

We've had more than 50 million calls since the first five counselors plugged in their telephones more than 10 years ago. That's a lot of yakkin'--and a lot of happy players.

As far as I'm concerned, the crown jewel of the Call Center is the Check-Out Room. The first time I saw this nondescript walk-in closet sized room, my eyes popped out like Jim Carrey's in The Mask. Piled high inside its drab walls were games, games, and more games. Dozens of games--hundreds of games--probably thousands of games! This treasure trove contains at least one copy of every game ever made for a Nintendo system.

The goal as a game counselor is to master as many games as possible. The more games you play the better you are. ("So, you're looking for the Freeze Gun in Level Two of Daffy Duck: The Marvin Missions? Why, I was just playing that stage yesterday, and....)It's a tough life, but some one has to play those games.

Of course, lately it's been hard to go back to those old Super NES titles when you've been playing Super Mario 64. My next journal article will -- hopefully -- be about using my very own Nintendo 64. I hear that they're just about ready to give one to each game counselor.

Journal 2

Oh, lucky me. For over a week, I was the proud owner of the world's swankiest paperweight. Yep, the braniacs in charge of the Nintendo Call Center gave each of us Game Play Counselors a spanking-new N64 to take home. Oh, but there was one hitch. No games.

So there it lay, nestled alongside my 35-inch TV. I swear it called out to me in the middle of the night. "Paul, Paul," my N64 pleaded. "Plug me in. Let me rip. I'll take you places you've never gone before." But every morning, I got the same message from my supervisor. "The games are coming soon. Real soon. I promise." Yeah, right. That and ninety-five cents will get me a cup of coffee at Cafe Mario.

As soon as my buddies caught a glimpse of that svelte fun machine, their eyes got bigger than an X-large from Pietro's Pizzeria. Then I told them the slight drawback. "Oh, you're a lot of fun," they'd say. "Excuse me, I got more exciting things to do. Like watching paint dry."

Fortunately, it's always darkest before dawn. My supervisor has come through, and now I'm the proud player of Super Mario 64 in the comfort of my own domicile. The first day, I ran home, slammed the Pak into my forlorn N64, and caught my first star by 6:30. I didn't let up until a quarter to three in the morning, at which point I tumbled into bed with a big smile, blissful and content.

In that first marathon session, I out-skidded a penguin down an icy slide, blew the top off a pyramid, drained the moat of Princess Toadstool's castle and brawled with Bowser twice. I caught a ride with an owl named Hoot, retrieved my cap from a larcenous condor and rode a seriously creepy merry-go-round in Big Boo's haunted house.

You've probably heard plenty of raves about this game. Trust me. They're wrong. Super Mario 64 is way better than you can imagine. I couldn't stop running, jumping and swimming through magical worlds.

Journal 3

You haven't heard from me in a couple of weeks because I've been on R&R; in Orlando, where I grew up. First things first, though. The pace at Nintendo has really ratcheted up since I left. We're all looking forward to the launch of the greatest game system ever. Every Game Play Counselor now has an N64 and is busily playing Super Mario 64 and Pilotwings 64.

I knew it was going to be a great vacation because the first night I flew in, my grandmother made me a festive pineapple upside-down cake. Which has been my favorite, ever since I was a little kid.

Next day I teamed up with a couple of buds from high school and headed coastside to surf. Ron Jon and Cocoa get all the ink but we know cooler places, with better waves and fewer short-timers. Hurricane Fran was kicking up froth from hundreds of miles away, so we white-capped it all afternoon long. We finished our day by heading back into Orlando to throw some steps at Oz, but were gravely disappointed. I knew a DJ there named Kimball who used to go to London every couple of weeks to get the latest discs. Unfortunately the place had been changed into a new venue called Zuma Beach, which sounds too much like a made-for-TV movie for my taste.

A fellow GPC came down to visit while I was there. We scored free passes to Disney World, courtesy of a buddy who's a big electrician there. Unfortunately the skies opened up soon.after we got in. One of those classic central Florida summer squalls that the tourist bureau doesn't want you to know about. So we wound up going on Pirates of the Caribbean twice, which is fine with me--it's one of my favorite Disney thangs. We're all going through singing the pirate's song. You know--"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." We got the whole boat singing, even a couple of tourists from Germany, who probably had no idea what the words meant.

After that, we hit up Splash Mountain. Hey, why not? We were already wetter than the bottom of a fish pond. Halfway through, though, the ride stopped. I think a nearby lightning strike knocked out the power. People got soaked and had to bail out the little logs they were riding in. Me and my GPC pal whiled away our time by debating the relative merits of Pilotwings 64 and Wave Race 64. Personally, I like to blast Goose out of a cannon and watch his spindly arms and legs flailing in the wind.

Gotta run. Time for another Loud House brouhaha. I'll catch you up on the rest of my sojourn next time, and let you know how the frenetic last-minute preparations for the N64 launch are going. In the meantime, I'll try to keep cool.

Journal 4

Boy, am I juiced. Skydiving in Pilotwings 64, I just nudged Hawk into a perfect half-gainer onto the bull's-eye on Crescent Island. You think that's easy? Hawk's nearly as big as the Astrodome and just as maneuverable. For my great work, I'm going to treat myself to a nice cold liquid refreshment.

Things at Nintendo are definitely whacked out as we race to the Sunday launch of you-know-what. All the Game Play Counselors are cool and collected as TV private eyes, but the honchos in the corner offices definitely look frazzled. They could use some R&R;, like I got in Orlando last month.

Most of my stay there, I swam, sunbathed, slept in, ate like a pig, and vegged out. You know the drill. I also went clubbing every night and played a lot of pool.

Me, a GPC pal and a girlfriend headed down to Key West for three days, where we checked out the scene on Duval Street, bought some tacky T-shirts with Ernest Hemingway's bearded face on 'em and dipped our young bods in the tropical surf. Alas, my GPC pal got burnt redder than a lobster in a steam bath. He's a snowbird from the fogbound Northwest and couldn't believe that he'd toast so quickly. Well, he learned otherwise.

I bent company rules and regs a little--O.K, a lot-- by bringing an N64 along. None are supposed to leave the premises before September 29, but I couldn't go N64-less for two whole weeks. Besides, I wanted to show it to my mom, who's been a big game fan since the days of the NES. She was totally stoked on Mario. I couldn't get her off it. Now she wants me to get one for her when it comes out.

I also helped my mom throw together a little Web page on AOL. She really likes to go online. Sometimes, she'll pop in a Nintendo Power chat room and say "Hi." She never gets involved in pie fights, though.

I'm going to get myself that well-deserved beverage now, then head back for more sky-diving action on Pilotwings. Come Sunday, I expect a deluge of calls. I'm betting my first call will come from Newfoundland, in Canada, because their time zone is ahead of the rest of North America. I figure a player will open up the local N64 dealership, run home with a system, then call me an hour later, wondering how to get into the pyramid in Mario 64. Go ahead, call me. I can take it.

Journal 5

No, that wasn't a hurricane whooshing through stores coast-to-coast last week. That was an invading force of eager players rushing for their N64s. Hey, and why shouldn't they? After months and years of waiting, the future was practically in their hands. One only had to grab a system and head for home.

As you obviously know, some stores jumped the gun. They started selling N64s as soon as they got them instead of waiting until the official launch date of the 29th. Which is fine with me, although it did put the kibosh on my plans for a day of late-season wakeboarding. I was enjoying a case of serious Z's Thursday when my supervisor had the gall to call me up at the appallingly early hour of 11 a.m. "Hawkins! Get your bearded mug in here--now!" came the order from on high. I really wish Miss Manners would come out here and give a lesson on employee relations.

Fortified by a tasty bowl of Fruit Loops and a crosstown dash on my motorcycle, I grabbed my phone by noon and immediately began answering questions. "What's with this funny looking AC adapter? How do I get Kiwi to brake when she's hang-gliding? What's this 'wall jump' I keep hearing about in Mario 64?"

On my break I compared notes with NOAs Amy and Travis. Most of the callers were nice, polite and incredibly eager to play the greatest system of all time. Amy told of this guy who was calling "'Not for me, but for my nine-year-old son. Honest.'" "No, he wasn't," said Amy firmly. Travis had the weirdest call of all, from someone in Phoenix who was trying to hook up his system with a '72 Magnavox and a Bang & Olufsen stereo.

By day's end it looked like Hurricane Mario had whooshed through the Call Center, scattering papers, spilling coffee cups and leaving reps knocked way back in their chairs, tongues hanging out and eyes glazed over. I think I'm going to get a T-shirt that says "I Survived the N64 Launch."

Journal 7

Nothing's finer than playing a great game. And trust me, nothing's more mind-numbing than bug-testing a game.

Let's say Mario 64 is finished, except for the teensy-weensy job of making sure the finished product is as glitch-free as possible. That's when they call in the game testers. If you're a member of this lucky elite, you might be asked to take Mario to the castle's main hall and jump-kick off the wall. Then backward-somersault off the wall. Then dive into the wall and then dive and jump-kick off the wall. Then you spin-jump and crawl and.... Well, you get the picture.

If you notice the least little thing^[sic] wrong, like Mario landing on his head instead of his feet, you have to write it down in these forms the product manager gives you. Then you have to try to make the bug happen again. Rotsa ruck. When it comes to extraordinary and irreproducible phenomena, software bugs have The X-Files beat, cold.

And this is all in one tiny corner in one small part of the game. Once you're done there, you take one step down the hall and begin all over again.

If you're testing a sports game, the product managers will want you to play a full season with each team. If you're testing a tournament fighter, you'll be asked to try every possible combination against every opponent.

All this adds up to lots and lots of testing, which means plenty of overtime. That's the good news. The bad news is, after doing this for ten, twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for weeks on end, your brain begins to feel like a piece of charred Wonder bread. In a word, toast.

Even then, we can't catch all the possible bugs. Which is why glitches crop up in even the most thoroughly tested games.

So if you're ever playing a hot new title and manage to cause something really weird to happen, congratulations. You've just become an honorary game tester!

External link

• Journal list (archived)