I don’t know what you did over the holiday break, but I spent it on a beautiful island without leaving my basement.
Santa did a bad thing this Christmas. He brought me and my family a Wii. Santa did another bad thing. He included the Wii Resort Sports game with the Wii.
Have you ever been addicted to something? Alcohol, drugs, sex, cashews, origami? I haven’t, until now.
Over a period of a few days last week, during a cold stretch in the weather when a step outside transformed nose hairs into steel wool, I found myself smack dab in front of the television, only this time I wasn’t sprawled out on the couch stuffing my head in a potato chip bag.
Instead, I was on a beautiful island, sword fighting, waterskiing and shooting hoops, among other things. It’s a wonderful thing to cycle around a majestic mountain, to buzz a blimp with your very own Red-Baron-type airplane, and go to the bathroom in-between. Don’t have room for a ping-pong table? Not to worry. I pinged and ponged all weekend.
While snow blanketed much of the Midwest and frigid temperatures set in last week, I was golfing in Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian T-shirt. Who’d of thought I’d be kayaking through a quiet lagoon or shredding waves on my jet-ski in December?
Wife? Kids? Job? Soap? Not needed on this island. I can’t exactly call it a “fantasy” island – there’s no sign of Tattoo and/or Mr. Roarke – but it was as close as I’m ever going to get.
One day, after finishing up a few lessons in archery, I played Frisbee with my dog on the beach. Did you hear that? I HAVE A DOG! I call him Skippy, because I can.
In real life, I would have been finishing up my lessons in diaper disposal and playing shovel-the-sidewalk again.
But this wonderful adventure I took into Wii land came with a price, besides having to let my kids (and wife) play it from time to time. It, the game itself, if played too much, will burn a hole right through your head. At night, you’ll dream about hydroplaning across the water while you slip past a large ocean liner on your slalom ski. You’ll see those other bikers zip past you as you struggle to climb a steep hill. And worst of all, when you shut it down, you’ll be exhausted from all your efforts to stay in this wonderfully magical place.
It’s not relaxing. You don’t just push buttons. You actually have to move, something that’s not entirely a prerequisite of mine during the holiday season.
What I’m saying is, when all was said and done and the island evaporated into nothing but a black screen, I was drained, both mentally and physically.
I wanted to go sprawl out on the couch and stuff my head in a bag of potato chips. Which I did, of course.