Growing up a kid in the 21th Century

Inspired by an email from a friend...

Gizmo's, Electronics, Gadgets......

The unreal world has become more and more what we live in than the actual. We have virtual selves, virtual profiles, virtual friends, virtual lives that are oddly not without actual consequences. Where is the Virtue in that kind of living?

"Son, I know it's vacation and all, but it's been four days and you haven't left the house. I'm taking you outside."

"Where?"

"Here, put these on." Gives kid sunglasses.

"Cool, Virtual world huh? Awesome."

"No, we're just going outside."

"Woah, the graphics are intense. And the sensory imputs, I'm feeling heat on my arms."

Present kid with a stick.

"Is this the controller? Or a wand? Where are the buttons?"

"There are no buttons."


"Nothing is happening? Maybe it needs batteries or the blue tooth wireless network is down."

"There are no batteries."

"By the way, cool graphics, three dimentional, very fine, wonder how many pixels resolution this is."

"There are no pixels....You're outside..."

"No pixels huh? So this is new technology, wireless light resolution based rather than computer generated pictures? Awesome."

"Put your hand in this sandbox."

"It feels so real."

"It IS Real."

"You know Dad, I would have been happy with an Xbox 360 but this Virtual world room rocks! Where are the walls and the remote? I want to dial up a beach scene."

"Glad you like it. Now son, in this game, there are no resets. Everything is realtime. There are no savespots either."

"Wow. That's a tough game. So when you lose, you lose huh?"

"Yes son. So play well."

"Dad?"

"Yes son?"

"I don't think I'm ready yet for this intense a gaming experience. What do I do with the stick?"

Real Writer's Block

“What are you doing?” my husband asked as he approached the computer desk, sandwich and milk in hand, eager for an hour or two of Civilizations IV.

“Trying to write a column for a contest.” I replied.

“Doing what exactly?”

“Writing about family life. It’s a contest and the winner gets $300 bucks. The entry fee is $11. See?”

He glanced at the screen. “You aren’t going to use our real names are you? You can’t write about our camping trip! We’d look like idiots, setting up tents at 10 o’clock at night, pushing the button on the SUV every two minutes to give us light, the baby crying, the kids howling for food, me throwing pop-tarts and cokes at them for dinner, and the nearest bathroom a 6/10 of a mile away.”

“You left out the giant cricket on the toilet seat.”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ve got another idea.”

“Like what?”

“How about when Lisa found a snake in the bathroom while she was potty training…”
“You can’t write about that, people will think we live in a vermin infested home!”

“For $300 dollars, we could call Orkin.”

“I caught that snake for you, thank you very much.”

“And I was very grateful. It’s a good story. It has a happy ending.”

“Do you want my mother to read this?”

……

“Okay. Starting over. How about when David was the solo in the Christmas pageant and knocked over his music stand during the introduction? Or the time the coach threatened to hot glue his shoe laces together if he didn’t tie them?”

“Must all your stories be embarrassing about us?”

“No, I could write about how I totaled the car the day it was paid off. I could also write about the time we took all of them to your brother’s rehearsal dinner and they all threw up…”

“Absolutely not. Look, I’m proud of you and your writing, but I’m just not sure I’m ready for us to look like the Bumpuses from next door to the whole world.”

“We won’t really, we’ll just look like, well, us.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“You know, I might not win.”

“What do you mean you won’t win? We’re not funny enough? I’ll be insulted if we don’t at least place.”

“Why don’t you play CIV IV? I’ll watch.”