That’s right, I hate the Wii.
To be fair, I don’t hate it any more or less than I hate any other video game device. But people’s reactions to my distaste seem to indicate that my dislike of this Revolution in Gaming means that the terrorists are winning.
Now, my distaste is two fold. Part one: I just plain suck at video games. Anyone who knows me knows that I do not enjoy doing things I cannot show at least some passable skill at. I don’t want to be the best, I just don’t want to be the worst. I feel awkward and self conscious, and it kicks off some internal conversation in my brain that makes me feel MORE awkward, which pisses me off, which makes it harder to concentrate, which makes me suck even more. Now, given that hand-only video games make me visibly angry and prove my digital incompetence quite obviously (stupid Frogger frog! Always running into traffic!), how on earth would a video game platform that actually requires full body movement be considered an upgrade to me personally? No. Please don’t call 9-1-1. I’m not having some sort of full body convulsion. I am simply trying to hit the soccer ball and avoid the freaking panda head. (Panda head? This is fun family entertainment? The severed heads of cuddly zoo animals flying at me?) So yeah, I suck. I can cop to that.
The secondary part of my distaste is a general ‘ick’ about video games in general. I grew up in an adamantly non-video game household. My parents were of the “Go read a book! Go outside!” hippie bent, so my only exposure was at friends houses, and my friends all wanted to go play outside when we went over to play since they had 24/7 access to video games when they were by themselves with nothing better to do like play kickball with friends. I did internalize that message, though, which was “Go DO something. Don’t sit in front of a screen and pretend to do something.” I am mature enough (ha!) at this point in my life to see that there is nothing inherently Evil about moderate gametime, that it can be nothing more than just mindless fun, but there is a part of me that still internally cringes to see my not-yet 3 year old ‘bowling’ with his father. Because, you see, he’s not really bowling. He’s standing in front of the couch. The first time he played, I thought “A whole generation of pasty white kids is going to grow up thinking they are good bowlers, but the first time they get to an actual bowling alley, they are not going to have the physical strength to pick up the damn ball!” Yeah, yeah. It’s overdramatic. (Hi, I’m Julie. Nice to meet you.) So I keep my mouth shut, I enjoy that my kid and his dad have a ‘thing’ they do together and enjoy, I run over to watch when Drew comes to get me, shouting “ook, me, mama! Ook! I boowing!” and I cheer him on when his daddy helps his get a strike, cause that’s just freaking adorable. I even play when asked. I can enjoy his enjoyment. But I’d be a liar if I said it was the most fun I ever had.
We have the Wii Fit, too, and I hope that after this baby comes I can find some use for it to get back into prebaby shape (which would mean ever-so slightly less round than I am right now :P) and maybe that will warm me up to it. Hell, if it got me into better than pre baby shape, I’d recant this entire diatribe and marry the damn thing.
What IS awesome about the Wii, specifically? That little song they play when a bowling game is finished. Drew loves that song, and immediately hops up to dance his funky little stomping dance, arms held out behind him like non-flapping chicken wings, circling the living room with a most determined look on his face. That’s almost worth the money.
Almost.
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