2010 was a fantastic year for me. 2011 will be hard pressed to beat it.

“Hey, Dave,” he said, looking at me sitting at my work computer. "This’ll be the year, Dave.“

He was right.

His name was Mike… I don’t remember his last name. He was a heavy set fellow with a warm spirit and a big, genuine heart. It was December of 2009, and I was working at a popular cell phone provider’s call center.

I was miserable. The weather was cold, and the routine was boring, soul numbingly boring. I didn’t care at all for that job. Nothing there interested me even vaguely, except for a handful of the people I met there. I hated having 10 hours of my day stolen from me by that place. I desperately needed the money at the time, though.

You know how when you first start a job or in some classes in school you’ll be required to stand up and say a little bit about yourself? We had to do that our first day.

"My name is David, and I used to run my own business. Some things didn’t work out, and when the economy tanked I lost what little business I had. I’d like to start it up again, but first, I need more money to advertise. So I’m here.”

Only a few days into training, I hadn’t had any real time to get to know my coworkers. But already I was in a routine of picking up coffee at our first 15 minute break once we’d herded ourselves like mindless cattle to the tiny break room.

“Hey, Dave, what kinda coffee you drinkin’?” Mike was from New York, and his annunciation and pronunciation made it no secret.

“It’s a vanilla latte… that’s all this machine has except straight black coffee.” At the time, I didn’t drink black coffee very often.

“Ah, I have a coffee mug in my truck you can have.” He obviously needed the money pretty badly, too, because Mike was a stocky fellow who had previously only worked in construction. He answered the ad for phone support just like I did for a lack of any other options in this economy.

“No, it’s fine,” I waved my hand weakly to turn down his kind offer. "I’ll just use these cups.“

"Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Those cups don’t keep the coffee warm. I don’t use the mug in my truck anymore, you can have it.”

“Okay,” I said, “Sounds cool, thanks.”

I didn’t think he’d actually give it to me later. I figured he’d forget. This was only a few days into the job after all.

But the next day, he came to my desk and placed on it a green coffee mug with a black lid. The bottom rim of the mug was chipped, but only barely. It was also clearly old and had seen much use.

I looked at the mug, visibly confused. I had forgotten he even said he’d give it to me. An instant later it dawned on me. "Oh, right! Hey, thanks, Mike.“

"Hey no problem, Dave.”

I bought his coffee that day to thank him. It was a small gesture, sure, but it was the least I could do.

Soon, Christmas and the holidays of 2009 rolled around. Some of us brought treats for the whole class to celebrate… but not only did I hate working at that sinkhole, I had no money to buy something that I could share with the whole class.

Mike, however, bought everyone a personalized card. While I couldn’t be bothered to care about anyone in that classroom (except of course, him and a couple of the prettier girls), he was awake and lively enough in class that he knew at least a little bit about everyone there. He was just that kinda guy.

He passed out his Christmas cards. Knowing I wanted to start my business back up, he made mine out: “Don’t give up, Dave! Things will be great in 2010.”

I can’t find that card today… I tried to find it just before writing this blog entry. Sadder still is that I can’t find the coffee mug he gave me. I know they’re here somewhere. I would not throw those away.

Know what’s even sadder? A few weeks later, in January, Mike quit. He was a very nice guy, and everyone liked him. But working in construction so many years prior to this job, he had a difficult time understanding the technicalities of a cell phone and the workings of a cell phone company. He failed or barely passed most of the tests, and didn’t do too well on a daily basis there.

He lined up some work for himself in yet another city, and quit.

All of us in that training room didn’t care for anybody else there (we were all just making it hour by hour for our paychecks). But the day Mike stopped showing up, everything felt different. The whole class was very quiet. Usually it was pretty loud in there. The people there, full grown adults most of them, chatted and gossiped and spewed vulgar, tacky jokes all day. I don’t blame them. They were trying to get through the deathly monotony of it all in their own way. But it was obnoxious.

Still, we all felt Mike’s quitting that day. Things went back to normal only a short few days later.

Some number of days passed, and Mike showed up one more time to fill out some paperwork with our trainer. Everyone greeted him with warm hello’s, some of the girls telling him how much they missed him in the class. He was real cool about it. Wished everyone good luck, and waved goodbye to everyone from the doorway.

My desk was right by the doorway.

Just before he left that January day in 2010, he turned to me and pointed a finger my way. "Hey, Dave,“ he said, "this’ll be the year, Dave.”

He was right.

Last year, in 2010, I suffered some major financial setbacks. I’ve gone deeply into debt, and tried time after time to get my business running again. I’ve failed numerous times. Sure, I’ve had minor victories… but the losses I’ve taken have been devastating. They far outweigh my gains.

But all the while, I’ve had a beautiful hobby. This shining light that has kept me not only sane, but happy, this whole past year. You see, in December of 2009, I released my first YouTube video. Clicky the image to watch.

It wasn’t very popular at all. I got about 20 views a day. Back then, YouTube used a star rating system (you know, like rate this video between 1 and 5 stars), and I used to sit there for the first few days after I’d released a video to watch for the first rating I’d received. I used to hope someone gave it 5 stars. Sometimes it took several days before any of my videos got a legitimate rating, or a comment.

My first few comments and ratings were exciting! People found my video useful, and that made me happy. Very happy. The process was difficult to start, but I decided to make more videos. I was mostly new to editing and capturing footage, and I was poorly equipped at the time. My computer wasn’t very strong, I had a tiny hard drive, and my microphone wasn’t all that great.

But I turned video making into my hobby. It was incredible fun. I’ve always been the creative type, but had no legitimate creative outlet. YouTube gave me the opportunity to create new things that people actually wanted to consume.

I was incredibly happy, and addicted. I couldn’t stop thinking about my next video, or how to improve my style or editing, or when I’d find the time to capture footage, or how I desperately just wanted to leave work so I could make my videos.

Despite financial problems, despite health problems, despite my business failing… I was enjoying life more than ever. Yes, making YouTube videos truly was that big of a thing for me.

I realize it sounds silly. But I don’t care. I LOVE my hobby with a passion. To me, it’s like a hobby train enthusiast. At some point in his life, he gets a train set and builds his little circular track with a little working engine and a few cars on his coffee table. He takes a few more steps, and now his train set has a switching station and another little train running on it. He later expands his first train and makes it larger, and adds some grass and trees and maybe a little town to his model train set. Soon, the set grows too big for his coffee table, and after years of enjoying and loving and nurturing his hobby, he’s dedicated his whole basement to the train set and the thing runs like a charm much to his delight.

This is what my YouTube hobby has been like to me for all of 2010. I never imagined I’d gain this many subscribers (at the time of this writing, 107,161 and counting), but I never really cared for subs, or views, or ratings, or comments.

I’m glad I have all of those, though, because they make the hobby more fun. But I just love playing video games, and I love sharing my experiences in them with the world. It’s the love of the games and the art of creating a quality video that makes me love what I do.

And now, at the end of 2010, nothing has changed. I still absolutely love doing this, and I’ve gained so much from it. I’ve never had a hobby in my life before, something I look forward to every day. Something that helps define who I am as a person. But now I do, and I’m so thankful I found it.

But now there is so much more. Now, as I work on a video, I know I have tens of thousands of people who will be happy to see it, and that’s a special feeling. I’ve also over the course of 2010 earned a Machinima contract, so some of my videos are even earning me some money.

Here’s my first Machinima video, for those of you who didn’t know I was a Machinima Director or for those of you who haven’t yet started watching my Half-Life 2 videos (clicky the image to watch):

When I got the Machinima contract, I nearly melted with joy. This, admittedly, is because the prospect of making a living doing my hobby was extremely exciting. Get paid to play video games?! Sign me up!

But this also began an internal struggle for me. Should I start making videos and sending them exclusively to Machinima so I can make lots of money? Or should I let my hobby remain pure and fun, instead of turning it into a job?

Ultimately, I decided I loved my hobby way too much the way it was to change it. So I haven’t released very many Machinima videos, even though they would pay me to do so. Instead, I’ve focused on my channel and doing what I love simply for the sake of loving it.

As a result, I haven’t made very much money off my videos, but it wasn’t about money in the beginning and I didn’t want to change that.

On the topic of making money from videos… My YouTube channel’s growing success also enabled me to do something else I absolutely love doing: it enabled me to talk on even footing with some of my favorite YouTubers.

SeaNanners, DiggitySC, PeanutSC, JX23, Dodger from PressHeartToContinue… these are all individuals I am a fan of, and now I talk to most of them on a fairly regular basis. To be able to meet and socialize with some of my favorite personalities on YouTube is awesome.

Getting back on topic, though: SeaNanners has been doing the YouTube thing longer than I have and undoubtedly he has had more success with it. He’s been through everything I’ve been through and more, so when I started struggling with the prospect of making money from my YouTube channel, he had some advice for me. I’ll never forget what he said to me.

SeaNanners: Oh, money… haha. Keep doing your YouTube thing because you love it. If money comes, great. But don’t chase it. Then it’s not genuine.

He was absolutely right.

And some money has indeed come in for me as a result of this YouTube thing. But it’s not because I’ve chased it. It’s money that has come in just because I love what I’m doing, and I couldn’t be happier with how I’ve been able to achieve that while not sacrificing the integrity of my beloved hobby.

So, thank you Mike, wherever you are, for believing in me. You’re not a computer type person, so the odds of you reading this are extremely slim, but thank you anyway. I know you meant to wish me luck in my business, but things work out strangely sometimes, and your encouragement has carried through this year to help form something even greater.

And thank you, 2010, for being such a fantastic year. Mike was right. "This’ll be the year, Dave.“

And indeed it was. It was the year I found a great love in my life, the love of my favorite hobby.

What will 2011 bring, dear viewers?

Stay tuned.