Monday, February 12, 2007

Wii, Wii, Wii, All the Way Home

The color of my black and blue Sketchers may have matched the pigmentation of the toes they were failing to protect. A warm ski jacket kept the eight one hundred dollar bills (HOLLA!) warm inside my inner pockets. Looking out towards the cars, I envied the families zooming by on Coon Rapids Blvd. watching people in their nicely warmed up cars probably heading to church or across the street to a Grand Slam breakfast at Denny’s. Or perhaps hitting up Northtown for a walk around the mall before the various knick-knack stores opened up.

Shifting back and forth, floating like an overweight butterfly, and stinging like a pillow as I tried to shake off the bitter cold while bouncing heavily on my feet and cursing these gloves for doing nothing more then making my chapped knuckles bleed from the several paper-cut like openings. At least the two guys, equally as deranged as myself, provided enough temporary friendship vibes to carry a conversation for three hours about Ely, the thoughts of moving somewhere that didn’t provide your nostrils with icicles for retrieving the morning paper, and… finally getting the Wii.

After four weekends of stuffing two unmotivated kids into their Gore-Tex lined jackets, I decided to re-hash the days of a one a.m. breakfast, bad jokes, and braving weather only someone in the Iditarod should while camping out to receive tickets for Metallica or Sesame Street Live! at the Dayton’s ticket box office. Yes, I stood in front of a closed Toys R’ Us with Geoffrey the Giraffe and several high school kids with their name tags laden with service awards mocking me from cozy confines inside with hopes of purchasing a Wii.

It is sad to say that it was worth it?

My wife normally skeptical of my geekery, found a smile and a few laughs as my virtual bowling ball found the gutter once again. I purchased the Rapala fishing game, Zelda (based on recommendations), and Wyatt decided he could not leave Target without the Monster Truck game. Reeling in a fish while squirming like one using a video game controller, is second only to holding your stance after hitting a virtual golf ball perfectly in the dork department.

I love being a dork.

As poker seems to be going more and more underground but you wouldn’t know it by seeing the numbers at the big Sunday tourneys, including the FTOPS making their third guarantee in a row (congrats on the cash Otis!) I needed something to bridge the gap and help dust the layer of cabin fever off my shoulders. Playing a game of bowling, or driving Grave Digger over some flattened Buicks with nothing more then the steering wheel, is better then re-watching Jimmy Neutron’s sleepover episode featuring killer pizzas and repeating “what do you want to do?” to each other.

Despite people receiving a golden Wii ticket showing up two and a half hours after I began my stupidity of becoming a life sized blueberry popsicle, it felt good to receive a want, instead of yet another need.

Splurge a little if you will, and not just getting a sought-after video game, but to see a few smiles, and hear a few laughs at home where none existed recently.

Thanks for dropping by, now if Wii can play Wii Sports over the intertubes (I have the Wi-fi set up) let Mii know how.

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