" /> BRAINPAN LEAKAGE » DS
  • Sit Foo-Foo, Sit! Good Rabbit…

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    asteroidsI’ve never really been all about the video game stuff. I mean, after all, “PONG” was the biggie when I was a kid. In my teens things got really advanced and we had stuff like Asteroids. I actually used to be pretty damn good at Asteroids. I had a tactic of holding the thruster button down and spinning the little triangle shaped ship in a circle while blasting the holy hell out of the space debris that was barreling in on top of me. Kinda like that “death blossom” maneuver in the movie “The Last Starfighter”… Yeah, obscure movie reference, but you know me… Suffice it to say, back then my friends called me the “Han Solo” of Asteroids, because I could play for hours without getting blown up or even encased in carbonite, not that the latter was actually an option…

    Even so, that’s pretty much where my “Video Game Wizard” career ended. The Who never wrote a song about me, even though I am now about half deaf and wear bifocals. A buddy of mine who filks wrote a song about me once, but it had more to do with my books than it did my ancient video game prowess…

    Yeah, I’m chasing chickens again, aren’t I?  Oh well, you know how I am….

    So, on to the real story here… As I’ve mentioned before, the O-spring has one of those hand held, Nintendo DS things. She also has an enormous number of cartridges that go along with it. Among her favorites are the pet hospital/trainer sort of things. She has several, and you can often find her running a grooming salon, doctoring zoo animals, or simply taking a dog for a walk, all via that noisy, pink, folding rectangle with all the buttons.

    Now, one of the interesting things about these Nintendo DS dealies is that they have voice recognition. Yeah, you can talk to them. So, whenever the O-spring is training an animal we tend to hear her talking to the DS. Such was the case just the other night…

    Her Supreme Evilness and I were taking a moment to veg and have a look at something on the toob. O-spring was parked on the couch and whatever it was we had elected to watch wasn’t to her fancy, therefore she had her nose buried in the DS. Via points, virtual money, or whatever it is that you do, she had obtained a new pet for her menagerie and she was endeavoring to train it to sit, roll over, etc via voice commands. During the commercials I would listen to her barking commands at the electronic pet, repeating them over and over while the stress level in her tone grew. It was obvious that her frustration was mounting.

    Eventually, long about the third or fourth round of commercials, the munchkin let loose with one of her hallmark shrieks. You know, the 9 year old who’s lost her patience squeal. I continued rocking in my chair, but turned my head and asked her what was wrong.

    “My bunny won’t do what I tell it to do!” she lamented.

    “You’re trying to teach a rabbit to sit?” I asked.

    She all but wailed, “Yes! But it won’t do it!”

    “Well, honey,” I said. “Rabbits aren’t exactly the kind of pets you teach those kinds of tricks to.”

    Now, one would think that this is the punch line of the story. I mean, the kid was trying to teach a virtual rabbit to sit and roll over. It’s bad enough when it’s a virtual dog, but come on, a rabbit?

    But, as you are sure to have guessed by now, the Peter Cottontail factor isn’t the whole story. It’s part of it, but the real punchline is still coming…

    The O-spring barked another string of “sits” at the pink rectangle, then once again let out a frustrated shriek.

    Sit Foo Foo EK

    “Honey,” I tried to soothe her. “I really think you picked the wrong kind of animal to train. Rabbits don’t respond to voice commands like dogs do.”

    Without missing a beat, the kid wailed, “BUT IT DOES WHATEVER MOMMY TELLS IT TO DO!”

    I can’t say as that I blame the damn thing. I mean, we are talking about The Evil Redhead here…

    The problem is, I am now having some really bizarre nightmares…

    The one that recurs constantly involves the Easter Bunny. E K has him strapped to a giant frying pan and she’s beating him with an oversized spatula while he screams, “Cadbury! My safe word is Cadbury!”

    Don’t worry. It disturbs me too…

    More to come…

    Murv

  • Periodic Airbag Testing…

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    I almost wrecked my truck the other day.

    Not Actual Truck But Damn Close...There I was, minding my own business, as usual. Summer break had officially begun and
    because of that I wasn’t able to get much writing done. You see, I kinda need peace and quiet when I write, which is something severely lacking when the O-spring is bopping around the house. All good, not a problem. She would soon be starting her summer day camp stuff and this gave us an opportunity to hang out for a bit.

    Of course, as O-springs get older – and we parental units do as well – we become an embarrassment and they really aren’t all about hanging with us. Still, we had errands to run and the kid had no choice but to come along, so she had to hang out with me whether I was an embarrassment or not.

    This is where the path to near wreck begins.

    O-springs have contingency plans. If they don’t want to hang with you, even if they are going to be in the same vehicle, they find a way around having to interact on anything more than a minimal basis. My O-spring’s method of doing this is to immerse herself in a game with her Nintendo DS.pink nintendo

    We didn’t have these things when I was a kid. Hell, I was in my tween’s when I saw – and played – one of the first commercially available PONG games at a Shakey’s Pizza Parlor on St. Charles Rock Road. I was a full fledged teenager before video game systems that did anything more than the aforementioned PONG were sold for home use. Now my O-spring has something the size of a checkbook – in a designer color mind you – that has more computing power than the system that put astronauts on the moon back in ’69. There’s something not quite right about that…

    But, let’s get back to the almost wreck.

    There we were, cruising along taking care of errands. We’d been to FedEx, the Post Office, the Recycling Dropoff, and several other stops in between. Our final stop before heading back home was the local Walgreens and I had aimed the big red truck in that direction. All during the excursion, O-spring had her nose in her DS. Anything I said to her elicited either a grunted “yeah” or more often a “what?”

    Silly music was blaring from the pink time waster as the O-spring engaged in untold feats of stylus-on-touchscreen über-skillz while playing something called “Mario Party”. Judging from the somewhat familiar midi tune, I gathered it had something to do with the old Donkey Kong / Mario Brothers stuff.

    Suddenly, the kid spoke up, much to my surprise. Seems I was now a necessary part of her day…

    “Daddy?” she said with that questioning note all parents have come to expect whenever they hear their “name” called.

    “What, honey?” I asked.

    With a perplexed tone to her voice she asked, “What are Crazy Crotch Hairs?”

    Brakes squealed… The steering wheel spun… And caffeinated beverage sprayed…

    We missed the telephone pole at the entrance of Walgreens by something on the order of half an inch. I still haven’t been able to get the coffee stains out of my dash from where I spewed a mouthful all over the instrument panel.

    Upon some careful and targeted questioning I came to discover that “Mario Party” is a cluster of games, one of which is named “Crazy Crosshairs”.

    The truck is fine, and the O-spring now knows what crosshairs are. Me? Well, I think I’ll be making an appointment with a cardiologist. As I understand it these “holy crap” moments only get worse as the kid gets older, and I’m not sure how much my old heart can take.

    Now, if I can just find a way to NOT test the airbags on my truck, I’ll be all good…

    More to come…

    Murv