I like to think I'm a do-my-own-thing, independent type of guy. However, every once in a while, a fad, nay, a wave of cultural phenomenon comes along so suddenly and completely pervasively that I, too, am sucked down by the undertow.
The icon currently enthralling the consumptive masses is, of course, the Nintendo Wii. How can one video game system simultaneously appeal to toddlers, tweens, Generations X and Y, Boomers, and even the Greatest Generation? In the case of the Wii, I believe it is the utter simplicity.
I never had any interest in video games before the Wii. Frankly, the proliferation of knobs, buttons, and joysticks on the typical Xbox or PS2 controller has always rather intimidated me.
I'll study for diplomas, certifications, and whatever else is required to fulfill my personal and professional ambitions, but I draw the line at studying to play a video game. To completely appreciate my technophobia as it relates to video games, it must be noted that the last video game I owned (jointly, with my siblings, that is) was Atari's Pong. For the youngsters who are now wondering, "What in the world was Pong?" and are not inclined to Google it, Pong was basically the electronic equivalent of paddle ball only with two players. Naturally, I sucked at it. "What was paddle ball?" you ask. Let's just say that Pong was the Rain Man of video tennis.
The most challenging part of Wii is actually finding a console to purchase. I decided that I would buy one for
Judy for our anniversary. After coming to this decision, it took a full three weeks to find one. Every store everywhere, it seemed was out of stock. One would have had better luck buying bread in Cold War Russia.
After ritually walking into every Wal-Mart I passed, I finally found one three days after the aforementioned anniversary. Knowing the main reason for the purchase was to also buy and play the Wii Fit game, I decided to pick that up as well, as it was also in stock. Helpful hint: If you have your little heart set on a particular Wii game, always buy it the minute you see it. If you decide to wait, it will invariably be sold out when you do go back for it. I decided that Rock Band 2 would make my life a harmonious bundle of joy and set out to purchase it. After two months, I've still not found the complete game anywhere. I decided it would be quicker to actually learn an instrument (other than Rock Tuba), start a band, and conquer the world rather than try to find this game.
To play the simple yet amusing sports games that came with the system could not have been easier. By magic, a sensor wand put in front of my television assessed the movement of the controller (which the system came conveniently with only one of, necessitating the purchase of an additional controller), and it was as simple as that. Okay, I'm reasonably sure it is not accomplished through magic, but frankly, I'm too lazy to research how it actually works. More importantly, and to the point, I really don't care how it works. After initial set up, I made my mii. A mii is the personalized character that represents the gamer in each game he plays. I manipulated hair styles and colors, facial shapes, and even eye colors and body types until I had produced virtual renderings of myself and Judy that were both comical and fairly accurate.
Obviously, the simplistic games that came with the console were merely an appetizer to whet my appetite for even more complex and lavishly rendered games. We were pretty satisfied with the basic games and the Wii Fit that we had, although Judy did also pick up Star Wars: Force Unleashed for me. Though I naturally expend some effort honing my already mad Jedi skills, we spend the most time with the Wii Fit. The Wii Fit came with a small balance board that serves as the platform for activities including yoga, strength training, aerobic exercise and balance games.
Every day I use Wii Fit, I am encouraged to do a body test before doing training. This consists of choosing the body test option and stepping on the balance board. The board simultaneously weighs me and assesses my BMI based on my weight and the personal statistics I entered upon setup. Instructions throughout this process are printed on the screen and supplemented by direction from a voice that can best and most disconcertingly be described as that of a disembodied TeleTubbie.
Given the fact that the game also makes sometimes disparaging remarks about my athletic prowess and workout habits, it is probably best that the voice sounds like that of a person I could realistically beat the crap out of (or as my English teacher would have preferred, a person out of whom I could beat the crap). Especially hurtful are the sounds it makes when I step on. Sometimes it says, "Great!" Most of the time it says, "Oooohhhh....." however, as though implying the strain of my weight is nearly more than it can bear.
The fact that the game talks smack and ladles sarcasm on top of my heaping pile of athletic ineptitude only makes it more endearing, though. What kind of things does it say? Well, the first time I did the body tests, it told me I had the balance of a ninety year old woman with Parkinson's. In my defense, some of the tests seemed they would not be indicative of my actual level of balance. For instance, the walk test seems like a good idea in theory, but most people typically amble with a purpose and not in place as is necessary with the game. This test more closely resembles the movements of my "I gotta pee dance". Call me crazy, but I think it should have real world balance tests. It could be something like getting into my car with a cup full of free bank coffee with no lid and my keys in my other hand.
The Wii fit game also stores all the information from previous weigh-ins, so it knows whether I am gaining or losing weight. If I gain, it will ask me why I think that happened, giving me the choice of about eight different excuses. I usually pick "I don't know" because the real reason, "I haven't taken the Browns to the Super Bowl yet" is not listed. Another viable excuse that seems to be missing is "I'm retaining more water than the Hoover Dam."
Another thing I find amusing is that Wii is constantly telling me, "You know, Billybob, you can weigh other items with Wii Fit. For instance, after your body test today, you could weigh yourself again holding a book and then you'd know how much the book weighs!" Yes, many are the times I've been sitting about the house when suddenly, the book case catches my view and I say to myself, "I wonder how much 'Me Talk Pretty One Day' weighs." I could find more practical examples for the usefulness of this concept.
Imagine, if you will, the local purveyor of illicit substances. A customer arrives to conduct some business, so naturally, the pusher man fires up the Wii Fit and grabs the balance board and a baggy of his verboten wares.
"Where's you scale?" his patron protests.
"Chill, man. If this baby can tell me my Body Mass Index to the hundredth of a point, I'm reasonably sure we can trust it to weigh your meth."
My favorite games seem to be the balance games. I particularly like the ski jump. In fact, Judy and I have something of an informal competition going on. That's one of the best things about Wii. It sneaks exercise in on you while you're having fun. I could easily do 50 squats without even realizing it while trying to break Judy's record. I'm currently the ski jump champion, but Judy is kicking my hind quarters in the super hoops.
Super hoops consists of hula hooping and catching multiple hoops going both clockwise and counterclockwise, five minutes in each direction. I'm thinking it may be my technique. With my arms flailing wildly, tongue sticking out, and hips flying in horribly non-concentric circles, I resemble an impressively drunken belly dancer in the midst of some kind of seizure. To Judy's credit, she has resisted the urge to film me and post it on You Tube.
How will all this end? Who knows? My guess is it will have something to do with yoga.
"Hello, Mrs. Boucher."
"What happened doctor?"
"Near as we can tell, he was trying to do a headstand and lost his balance, falling into the coffee table."
"Is it bad?"
"Let's put it this way. His downward dog has been neutered."