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Wii can only dream of the Glory Days that never were...
By Dan & Nancy Sapir
Posted Tuesday, January 29, 2008
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HIM: I have finally found something in the world of computer games that I can get a handle on. I’ve never gotten into this Play Station stuff because I’m afraid it would become addictive, and I’d get even less done then I already do. But alas, there is now something that both she and I can have fun with. I’m speaking of the latest phenomenon called Wii. It’s an interactive game that you can actually control. You can play baseball, shoot at birds, bowl, and a whole lot more. The thing is, you actually control your actions by holding a handle devise that gets attached to your wrist so you don’t throw the thing at the TV screen.
My favorite game is bowling. I have bowled against my young Grandchildren Hailey and Emily. There have also been some highly contested games between Emily and me. Regrettably, I have never won a game. Usually I just let them win; after all, they wouldn’t have fun if they never won. Five year old Emily once threw three balls over her shoulder and got three strikes in a row, she called it a "turkey." I made a big deal out of it but it made me realize the game has nothing to do with skill, how could it? I enjoy letting Nancy win. She is not athletic like me, so for her it’s quite a thrill. The Grandkids get a big kick out of beating the old fellow and they will carry the results of those games into adult memories. My job is to be sure that I always lose in order to insure those fond thoughts.
I must confess that she thinks that I’m losing the games because I’m not very good at hand/eye coordination. She thinks that all the childhood memory stuff is a cover-up for losing. What shallow thinking! One of these days I’ll have to whip one of them, if for no other reason then proving them wrong…for now, I’d rather be a Wii martyr. They can’t realize that I played some football in high school, was on the Karate Team in College and still like to maintain my 5’10" frame at a steady 240 pounds. At 66 years of age, I still cut an athletic figure. I can prowl the aisles at Stop & Shop for a good thirty minutes and still be able to push on for five minutes more. I may not have the hair, but I have the strength of Samson. To think that I am actually being beaten by a five and seven year- old is preposterous. And further, to have the audacity to believe that I can’t beat my wife in this Wii game is, just…laughable. They’re the ones that are cheating. They walk right up to the TV screen when they bowl or throw a pitch or bat the ball. There has got to be a foul line agreed to before any of the games begin. Where’s the skill in throwing a bowling ball (even fake ones) when you’re standing right there with your hand practically touching the screen. I don’t do it, they shouldn’t do it. They ought to be glad that I even agree to play with such shameless cheaters, but that’s the way kids and wives are.
I’ll tell you the kind of guy I am…I’ll continue to let them all beat me. I’m bigger then they are and don’t mind being a martyr. If my losing gives them a few minutes of laughter and happiness, it is all worth it. As I listen to their excitement and squeals of joy, I realize…what kind of a man would I be to deny them of such moments. HER: Well, that was a crock of mammoth proportions. He got a world class ass whoopin’ from a tiny child and an old lady. They’ll probably revoke his membership at the Hilltop Athletic Club. Imagine a kid who throws a bowling ball backwards and gets three strikes in a row and beats his best effort. That was so rich. Emily had to ask him repeatedly to remain silent while she took her shots. He was actually trying to rattle her. After I beat him, that was the sword in his heart. In his crazy world, a woman is supposed to know her place. Now we’re watching new generations of females taunt him with their excellence. I heard him tell Steven, "I want a rematch with Emily. She’s going down." I can predict right now, she’ll beat the pants off him again and again and again. Mauro can make book on it. Even Dan would bet on Emily.
Why do men have so much trouble losing to women? They should be used to it by now.
This brings me to the subject of the presidential race. Even though we are both Democrats, he won’t vote for Hillary. He doesn’t like Barack either. As far as I’m concerned Dennis Kucinich looks utterly appealing compared to any Republican. Fortunately, we gave birth to only one conservative, and we’re praying for him to see the light, but listening to Dan talk about Hillary, you’d think he was a member of the GOP.
Men cannot judge women fairly especially when a woman is as smart as Hillary Clinton. What’s the worst that can happen-we get a medical system that’s almost as good as Cuba’s.
Women should teach the world a lesson and abstain from marriage. Let men find out what it’s like to be us. The next world -shaking event in commerce would be disposable jockey briefs followed by flushable socks. Stock in pizza boxes would rise. The national slogan would be, ‘a microwave in every car and ribs in every pot.’ Breweries would flourish, and Tom Brady would be president.
Thank God for women.
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Wii can only dream of the Glory Days that never were...[Jan. 29, 2008] HIM: I have finally found something in the world of computer games that I can get a handle on. I’ve never gotten into this Play Station stuff because I’m afraid it would become addictive, and I’d get even less done then I already do. But alas, there is now something that both she and I can have fun with. I’m speaking of the latest phenomenon called Wii. It’s an interactive game that you can actually control. You can play baseball, shoot at birds, bowl, and a whole lot more. The thing is, you actually control your actions by holding a handle devise that gets attached to your wrist so you don’t throw the thing at the TV screen.
Him and Her: Wealth[Dec. 20, 2007] HIM: Now that the kids are grown it is a great sense of pleasure when we get invited over to one of their houses for holiday dinners. Between Susannah in Plymouth and Steven here in Kingston, we haven’t had to prepare these five course meals for years. Nancy, forgetting how many years she slaved over a hot stove and oven, always feels that she should be making "a little something" to take along. The thing that I just don’t get, is the number of little ditties she whips up to prove "we’re not pikers." Her shopping list looks as long as when she fed everyone and then some. She prepares an elaborate dessert, a side dish…or two and insists on a bottle, or two, of wine. Me, I look at the whole thing differently. I love the idea of showing up at their house, plunging into appetizers and then plowing into the meal 30 minutes later. After a 10 minute recovery period, I’m usually the one who pokes around the dessert and is first to attack the pies, cake and puddings. When that’s taken care of, I retire to whatever room the TV is located, to watch football. At halftime I head back to the food and dessert for round two, concluding with a Tupperware container lavished with leftovers. That’s my idea of living. I can never understand why she always tells the kids, "I’m sorry for your father’s eating disorder, but you know how it is with him and food." I never could understand what that’s all about, I mean, we do our share with the stuff she whips up; it’s like a down payment for all the other food that I consume. I never mind buying all the stuff we end up bringing as our contribution because she makes so much that the kids send us back with most of it anyway.
When Real Power Meets the Perception of Power[Nov. 27, 2007] Boy did I make a mistake the other day. I was heading out to work when she informed me that my Doberman had gotten into the trash and it was now littering the floor. Being in a hurry, I did what any red blooded male would do, I told her to "deal with it" and headed out the door. Well, I should have realized that that was the kiss of death. "Deal with it?" she whispered. "OK, I'll deal with it, but you will pay for that remark when you least expect it" she muttered under her breath.
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Mulching Madness[Sep. 28, 2007] HIM: Over the past several seasons she’s killed fewer plants then in the past. The idea of a big garden at the rear of our home is beginning to diminish as she turned her attention to the indoor planting of seeds. I’m not sure what we had growing throughout the summer but little green shoots were peeping up from those weird looking pots placed throughout every room. She could have owned stock in potting soil and Miracle Grow with the vast amounts she carted into the house. She even talked to them welcoming each new bud into a world that can only spell doom.
Calling a Truce in the War on Peace and Quiet[Aug. 27, 2007] HIM: She’s up to something and I think it’s diabolical. I haven’t figured it out yet but I will. It’s not natural and it flies in the face of female thinking.
First off I should mention that we have two sons. For the past few years my oldest son David and I have made it a tradition to watch all Patriots games at his place in North Plymouth.
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