• Beware of area code 352

    My wife thinks I’m being silly.

    But that’s not news.

    My latest adventure down the road to lunacy involves my alma mater: The University of Florida. It was about mid-April when I received my very first solicitation for money.

    “Can we count on your donation of $1000?”

    If I had been drinking it would have shot from my nose in a fountain of incredulity.

    “Ah, no.”

    “Can we count on your donation of $500?”

    “You’re still cold, but your getting warmer.”

    “How about $250?”

    “Would you take $100?”

    And there it was. I had agreed to send my old school; the place that shaped me into the man I’ve become (don’t laugh) $100. About a week later I got the letter in the mail with my pledge card and the address to send the money. Like everything else that comes in the mail asking for money, it sat on my desk for the customary one week waiting period. It was during that week that I found out I had Leukemia, and I never sent that check.

    This was my dirty secret for several weeks. Cheryl didn’t know that I’d agreed to give UF money, but I thought it was something important to do. Maybe I’m naive, but I thought I owed UF something. It was an important part of my life and I felt like I needed to give something back – even if no one but me noticed. Then Cheryl noticed the calls I was ignoring on my phone. It was area code 352… Gainesville, Florida… UF. I couldn’t face them. We were blowing money left and right to assuage my medical fears, the savings took a hit, and suddenly $100 seemed like a lot of money again.

    Finally, one night not long ago, I told Cheryl my deep, dark, secret.

    You know what she did?

    She laughed at me.

    “John, just tell them you got really sick, you were in the hospital, and you’ve been out of work for over a month. I think they might understand.”

    I still haven’t answered any calls from 352.

    What can I say? I hate disappointing people… even people who’re probably making 500 calls a day and couldn’t care less what I have to say. Maybe if they call tomorrow I’ll answer, but I’ll still feel a little dirty.

  • Wii-Day + 1

    I mentioned yesterday that we got a Wii last night; part of an early “Father’s Day” celebration.

    Today I can offer my unpaid endorsement of the Wii.

    Much of what I’ve read about the Wii suggests that it was designed for a wider demographic than other video game consoles, such as the Xbox and Playstation. After this afternoon I can tell you that if my family is any indication, Nintendo has an unqualified success on it’s hands. The Wii captured the 3 – 65 age group, with nearly equal numbers of males and females. My three year old son, nine year old daughter, thirty-something wife, and retired in-laws all spend significant time on the Wii today.

    I know this could be a passing fad. Most of the folks I mentioned may have enjoyed the novelty… which could wear off in short order. However, consider this: when we brought home our Xbox a few years ago that group of first day, novelty enthusiasts was limited to me and my daughter.

    What’s the secret? It sure isn’t the graphics. They might be as good as my first generation Xbox. Just like you’ll read in every other review of the Wii: the catch is the game play. It’s intuitive in a way that no other gaming console is. To play baseball you don’t press a button or toggle a thumb stick; you swing the controller like a bat. To pitch you wind up and throw (without letting go of the controller). When you bowl you can twist the controller on your tosses to give the ball spin… just like when you’re really bowling.

    You may be saying to yourself, “oh that’s just what we need, another baseball video game,” or, “oooo, a bowling game.” If I were playing either of those games on another console I’d say the same thing.

    The Wii is a completely different animal; a cute, cuddly animal that everyone seems to love.

  • She’s killing me with kindness

    If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know all about cancerboy… so I won’t rehash my physical condition to date.

    But keeping it in mind, how do you suppose my body would respond to a sudden spike in physical activity? That’s where my wife comes in. She thought it would be a great idea to get me a Wii for father’s day. She gave it to me tonight so we’d all have the weekend to give it a workout.

    Mind you, this afternoon I worked up the energy to do some laundry for the first time. Now, it’s Wii-Day, H-Hour + 4, and I’ve worked up a sweat, I feel like I could puke, and I have tennis elbow.

    And tomorrow I’ll do it to myself all over again. It’s that much fun.

    I wonder if there’s a warning label in the manual somewhere, advising consumers that they should consult with their physician before starting a Wii regimen of activity.