!) For the pleasure of saying you got in
2) For career purposes, to put a little extra credit into your resume
3) Hoping to meet others you might want to hang out with
4) ______
And did it work out?
I joined to meet people. I’m not a snob, but the people at my local bars seem intentionally non-intellectual, only wanting to talk about pool games and sports.
But the Mensa meetings were all too far away and I never went and didn’t renew my membership.
I joined just to annoy my spouse. (I got in by scoring in the 95th percentile on my LSAT.) I could run around the house and declare that “I’m a registered genius”, much to my wife’s chagrin. I never attended any local meetings, and let my membership lapse after a short time.
Just to see whether I could.
Bullying at school about me being thick. I wanted to prove I wasn’t. Not that IQ = intelligence, but hey, we were young.
#1.
I never went to any get-togethers, and got tired of reading the snobbery in their literature about the “2% solution” (IIR the title C), or the classified ads of guys offering to sell their sperm. I’m sure that most of the folks were fine people, but I let my membership lapse nevertheless.
1, 2, and 3. I was having the classic identity crisis in college and signed up. At the first meeting I went to, I ran into my middle school guidance counselor and the mother of my best friend from 5th-10th grades (who had always intimidated me a little – the mother, not the friend). Freaked me right out, and I discovered that I was just as awkward around smart people as I was around the population at large. I let my membership lapse.
About 10 years ago I decided to look into re-upping and called the main office (this was before I got online). Left a message saying that I had been a member in the past, and would they be able to just confirm that in their records and reinstate me if I sent in the fee? And would they call me back please. ONLY I FORGOT TO LEAVE MY NAME AND NUMBER. :smack: :smack: :smack: (Hey what can I say, back then I still got flustered on the phone.) Classic absent-minded genius. Mr. S LOVES to drag out that story at parties. Bastard.
My Mom was a member. I qualified based on a school IQ test so I joined when I was about 17. I was a member for a couple of years but only went to one event. I found the whole premise to be silly and the monthly magazine to be tiresome so I let the membership lapse.
For intellectual “exercise,” which I needed after being at home with little children for a number of years. It brought me that, and more, including the very best friends I have in the world.
I found that most of the people were great to talk (and argue) with. The neat thing is that if you don’t understand something, people are glad to explain, and there is no need to feel self-conscious about it. And if you do explain something, your listeners are likely to understand it. I’ve met an incredible variety of people whom I would never in a million years have encountered otherwise.
Also some great, great parties.
Pretty much on a lark. I saw them advertising the test in a local paper and took it to see if I’d get in. I did and I went to the orientation meeting but the Chicago chapter met way up in the northern suburbs a good hour away. I couldn’t see myself making that sort of trip on a regular basis and just let my membership lapse.
The orientation meeting was so-so but some of the Special Interest Groups looked kind of neat. Still, travel logistics won out.
I don’t even know if I’d qualify, but the idea of paying an annual membership fee to show how smart I am actually seems sort of un-smart.
Then again, maybe the benefits are worth it, if you’re a certified smarty-pants. I’ll never know - I’m happy just claiming I’m brilliant. I don’t need proof! I know it! 
None of the above. I had friend who were in Mensa when I lived in Hawaii and went to several get-togethers at restaurants, but I found them a rather arrogant, pretentious mob whose conversation consisted of “What a shame it is we’re so smart and the rest of the world is so stupid.” The end result was when they, in effect told me to put up or shut up, I walked. I had no intention of joining.
Then, back in 2000, I went to a science fiction convention, hoping to meet new and interesting people. I sort of hit the motherlode. You see, there was a science fiction writer and his best buddy whom I got to talking to. The next thing I knew, I was going out to dinner with them and a small horde of other people. The writer and his buddy mentioned they were both in Mensa and, as they put it sometime later, the look which crossed my face read, “Oh. And you seemed like such nice people.” They told me of these things called “RGs” (short for “Regional Gatherings”). They mentioned good conversation, hugs, chocolate, vicious card ganes, and atrocious puns. I was skeptical. Nevertheless, my city’s RG was Labor Day weekend and I had nothing better to do, so I figured I’d show up, stay a polite three hours, and leave. I left three days later.
I’m now somewhat active in the local mob – I’m hosting a hike next month – and I’m even dating a guy I met in Mensa. I’m also a member of the Hell’s Mensans and a bit of an RG junkie. You see, the writer and his buddy were right about the hugs, chocolate, conversation, etc. I don’t have to worry about being too smart or too geeky. As has been pointed out time and time again, the thing about the Mensans I hang out with is they get the jokes.
They’re a lot like members of this message board. There’s the same curiousity about absolutely everything, and a similarly warped sense of humor. So much so that I’m thinking of introducing the phrase “Penis ensued”. We’re unabashed geeks – we *know * we don’t have social skills so it doesn’t much matter. There are dances at RG’s, usually with costume contests, and it doesn’t matter if I dance like a geek because everyone, by definition, is dancing like a geek. If you ever find yourself in Chicago the weekend around Halloween when the clocks change, you might want to check out an RG called “HalloWEEM”. It features a costume contest where the theme is “Best Pun”. Past winners would make Spider Robinson groan. :eek:
I’m acutely aware that groups vary by area and interest, and my city does have our share of arrogant, pretentious types. I know. I’ve wanted to murder them a time or two, especially the year I ran programs for an RG. (No, ____, your program on “The Ethno-Migration of Indo-European Peoples” was not the most popular one on the program. The hands on one on chocolate I arranged, complete with tasting, was probably a little more popular.) That said, if you’re anywhere between Michigan and central Pennsylvania, heading as far south as central Kentucky, check out The Fabulous Region 3 Website and turn up at an RG sometime.
I joined Mensa for the company, not the bragging rights. The ones I hang out with aren’t just intelligent; they’re also compassionate and even, miracle of miracles, have traces of common sense. You have to if you’re organizing meals for 150-odd (OK, very odd) people for a weekend.
CJ
I joined a gathering at a university open day once. It didn’t interest me. It seemed too much like a circle jerk.
I would also question any employer who thinks “Mensa member” to be a qualification… >_>
I never became a Mensa member. They seemed too…uh…unwashed-RPG-low social skill-chunky monkey-geekish for me. I did join Triple Nine Society to be a booster for grad school applications and my resume. It worked very well for that purpose. I have never attended any of their functions.
I’ve never heard of Triple Nine (and according to the website, I’d barely squeak in), but wouldn’t schools and employers look at this organization much the same way they’d look at Mensa? Which would be, I’d imagine, that they’d ignore it or think it was snooty and irrelevant.
Same here. For me it was pure ego, though I’m not saying that was anyone else’s reason.
I was surprised at how social the organization was and how many different Mensa subgroups existed, though I never took advantage of it. I didn’t renew. I probably wouldn’t have anyway, but I remember being quite annoyed that the year long membership didn’t last a full 12 months, it just lasted until their renewal month (March?), at which point everyone had to renew, regardless of how long ago they first joined. It didn’t matter much to me, as I think I got 9 months of it, but I’d be pretty pissed if I joined in February.
I never joined, but I kinda want to. My childhood IQ score qualifies me; unforunately, I’ve moved umpteen times since then, and I have no idea how I’d find the scores again. My SAT scores would qualify me, but they no longer accept the SAT. So I’m SOL, unless I’m willing to pay a psychologist to administer another IQ test on me. (Which I’m not willing to do, because frankly I’d be too worried that I’d make a mess of things and wouldn’t qualify – I know that theoretically IQ is supposed to be constant throughout your life, but I can’t help feeling that I’ve gotten dumber since I was a kid, or that my original test was misadministered and inflated my score.)
I wouldn’t join for bragging rights or for job applications. Frankly, if I did join, I think I’d keep it secret, even from my family – kind of a preemptive protection from the “tall poppy syndrome.” Sorry Mensa folks, but no matter how you spin it, to most people it still seems like a pretty snobby club to join. I foresee all sorts of awkwardness if I told people I was a member. What if you were telling a friend about your meetings, they got all excited and decided to join – but then failed the qualifying test. What do you say to that? “Gee, sorry you’re not quite as smart as I am.” No thanks.
So yeah, I’d join for the chance to meet some interesting people. But the real reason I’d join is because I’ve read that Mensa has a loosely organized traveler’s aid program – that, depending on where you are, you might find a Mensa member willing to put you up for the night, show you around, etc. I imagine myself traveling the world, crashing at (probably rich) members’ houses, getting wined and dined, and generally living it up with the smart crowd. Mere fantasy, I’m sure, but if it’s anything at all like that, it’s yet another reason to join.
Bwahaha! I can’t get the image of a bunch of overweight men in full pleather outfits rolling down the highway on mopeds…
Having never heard of them, I googled “Hell’s M’s” and read the website.
A) The phrase “leather pocket protector” nearly made me choke on my Reese’s Puffs cereal.
B) Saying “the Hells Angles (sic) [are] serious partiers” is a bit of an understatement considering the reported connections to meth production, hookers, money laundering, drug trafficking, etc., not to mention murder and terrorism. Woo, rock on!
Why anybody would want to be associated with that is beyond me.
Your impression doesn’t match my reality. The Hell’s Mensans are behind these RG’s I’ve mentioned. It’s also a compilation of some of the more unpleasant stereotypes about geeks. First, let me give you a link to the Hell’s M Yahoo! group. I assume you’ve seen the website (the leather pocket protector is what we call a “joke” intended to play off the stereotype). The members range in age from early 20’s, I’d guess to over 70, and builds from downright skinny to vastly overweight. In short, we’re talking about a group of human beings.
The Hell’s M’s are the ones who’ll work out how to provide meals for a weekend for 100 to 200 people using such cooking facilities as can be set up in ordinary hotel rooms, both guest rooms and conference rooms, and do so without making the RG too expensive (the ones I go to cost between $40 and $70 for a weekend with meals and food available from Friday night until midday Sunday (midday Monday for 3-day weekends). The food, by the way, is good and plenteous.
That’s not the reason I joined, though. When I first started going to RGs, a friend and Hell’s M explained one of their purposes like this. The goal of the Hell’s M’s is to make sure everyone associated with an RG has a good time. This includes not only the people who are attending the RG, but the hotel staff (we usually feed some of them, too), the other guests in the hotel, and the police and fire department who are to have a good time by not being needed. Their attitude toward the odd jerk is similar to the SDMB’s, although I don’t know if we actually ban people. The Party Animal award at an RG is given by polling the members at the RG and asking “Who made you smile this weekend?” They are, in short, warm, funny, compassionate, and even wise people. Many of them are also my friends.
I went to my first RG not expecting to have a good time and expecting to run into the kind of arrogant, obnoxiousness others have described. Instead I found a group of people who are, in the words of Ed Zotti, some "of the smartest, hippest people on the planet, plus a few total dipsticks. " Sound familiar?
By the way, I’ve put Mensa on my resume exactly once, and that is a simple note that I was Program Chair for an RG while I was laid off. It’s under a section containing a bunch of miscellaneous awards, activities, etc. I wouldn’t dream of just putting Mensa membership on my resume and, if I were screening resumes, membership wouldn’t make that much of an impression on me except to double check to see if I knew that person. You see, in addition to the smart, funny, practical people I know who are in Mensa, I also know a bunch of smart, funny, practical people who aren’t. I also know total dipsticks in both categories.
In my experience, Mensa has been a lot like the SDMB with the addition of hugs and chocolate. If you look at my membership and post count, it’s obvious that in my book, this is a good thing! 
CJ
(By the way, I’ve never seen anyone wearing a leather pocket protector or, for that matter, any other kind of pocket protector at an RG. If I did, after I got done shuddering, I’d laugh at the joke. On the other hand, maybe I ought to get one for the next Dopefest.)
I knew a guy once (okay, I had his kid) who joined Mensa just for the coffee mug, “I’m a Mensa Member, and you’re not”. I’m not kidding.
Mensa does testing now and then. When I took it, it was about ten bucks and administered in some hotel conference room. The test itself seemed obscenely easy and I don’t say that to imply I’m particularly brilliant. A bunch of questions like:
Cocoa-Puffs are to a five year old as gasoline is to a…
(a) Rock
(b) Tree
(c) Internal combustion engine
(d) Tree shaped rock
I think every person in room walked away saying amongst ourselves “What on earth was that easy test about?” The hardest questions where ones using little pictures and that was largely because the pictures were either blurry or seriously outdated (i.e. something that could either be a 1950’s canister vaccuum or an old Thermos depending on how you squint).