Sprite's Keeper

A Slap in the Facebook

When cell phones came out en mass, I resisted the urge to join the always accessible crowd and held on tight to my deck-o-cards sized beeper. When I finally caved and signed my life away for a plan, everyone was relieved. (Not that I understood why. My phone rarely rang at home. I had to be reminded of my social status en route now?)

Blogging started getting hot in the early part of the millennium. I joined the fracas in 2008, the beginning of 2008, but still, the newness had worn off and now, when I tell people I blog, the responses are usually, "You too? My DOG has his own blog." (I refrain from asking for the dog's IP address, but my curiosity is peaked. "Bow wow, old friend, bow wow.")

I get it. I'm behind in the trends. I completely dodged the My Space frenzy, but got cornered with Facebook. John was on it. My best friend was on it. My sister tried to convert me a couple of months ago after she became more active in it. My MOTHER is on it. (I know Facebook was conceived by two guys trying to find ways to network online, but a Jewish mother had to be involved somehow in this, because this thing is right up a Jewish mother's guilt-ridden alley. I'm sure the status updates on her page would be "Jimmy's mom is currently wondering why her son never calls her".)

John finally made up my mind for me. He created my profile last night and told me about it this morning.

Um, thanks? I think.

I mean, it is about time for me to join the millions of others who actually seem to WANT to make contact with old high school cohorts and rekindle old friendships. And I guess now, whenever I answer the question, "Are you on Facebook?", I can stop making faces and gagging noises and start saying "Yes, yes I am."

I logged on this morning with the information John gave me and checked out my page. I have a wall? Okay. And it's white. (Man, even on the WWW, my walls are painted in primer.) Do I need to clean it? No? Then we're good. How many friends do I have? 13? Okay, there were 18 people alone in my wedding party and all but one are still on good terms with me, so what the hell? Oh, wait, there's 14. Now I don't feel like raiding the candy stash in my co-worker's desk. (She's not here. It's implied permission.) (Yes it is.) Wait, now there's 15? Man, who did John send these requests to?

Who is that person? She looks familiar, but trying to identify her by her 1/2 inch by 1/2 inch picture is a little difficult. Oh, she went to my high school? All right, I accept her as a friend. Whoa, someone just gave me a plant! Do I accept it? I'm not good with plants. Do I need to virtually water it and tend to it or just let it die like I do all my others?

I'm being poked?! Why would anyone want to poke anyone else? That's kind of twisted. Oh, there's other applications I can add. I can give a beer to people. I can give hugs. I can give high fives.(groan).. What kind of Sesame Street character would I be? Oscar the Grouch is looking pretty good right now.

So many possibilities. So little interest. I think I need to make my own applications.

Maybe I can get a Facebook pet. You know, a hamster or something that would go out to other people's pages and crap on their walls or chew through their Wall-O-flower arrangements.

Or maybe I can send a virtual bitch-slap. Why hasn't this person responded to any of my requests? Whack! Oh, so my beer that I oh, so generously clicked on and spammed all my "friends" with is not good enough for you? Double Whack! Now, THIS has my interest.

The more pages I look at, the more confused I am. My sister's-in-law page alone is full of drek like What kind of perfume are you? and Wall-o-candy. Why would someone send me a virtual Mounds bar when 1. I can get it from the vending machine myself (Read: co-worker's desk) (IMPLIED PERMISSION!!) and 2. I can only accept said virtual calories and pretend to enjoy them or put them on my Wall of Crap I Can't Touch so my viewing public or "friends" can see how loved I am and how wide my virtual hips are?

And, from what I hear, people are starting to take Facebook seriously. John doesn't really like to be poked, hugged, sneezed at, beer'ed, shaken, stirred, farted on, etc. He just likes to keep up with people. So, he usually ignores or refuses when someone sends a little momento of their thoughts his way. Some people have taken this rejection to heart, thinking John was upset with them, or mad at them, going so far as to call me up and ask if they're on the outs with my geek. Um, yeah.

And where is the supposed networking this site is supposed to be all about? I mean, I wouldn't send a potential boss or client a hug... Or would I?

So, enough of my ranting. I am now on Facebook. Come be a friend. Just don't poke me. Or send me a kiss. No hugs either. And nix on the beer. In fact, don't do anything. Just be still on my friends list and we'll get along just fine.

Cripes, next thing you know, they'll have me twittering..

Labor Lawlessness

John comes up to me while I'm loading the dishwasher. "I just got an email saying there's a raid tonight from 8:30 to 12:30. Is this all right with you?"

The fact that I know he's referring to World of Warcraft makes me a little woozy. "A four hour raid?"

"Yeah, but we have a fifteen minute break from 10:30 until 10:45."

"Seriously? You have scheduled breaks?"

"Yup, for things like snacks and bathroom breaks, you know."

I guess even the gaming world is subject to labor laws.

It shouldn't be too hard to talk John into working overtime and maybe make this game pay me back a little.

It owes me that much.

Hating the game, not the players

(Editor's Note: I read the comments on my WoW post this morning, and while most of the comments are very supportive of my WoW bashing ways, one really stood out. I mean, it was 900 pages long. It had to! So, I'm reprinting it since I believe it needs a response. This commenter and I have had many verbal sparring matches over the years. I respect the hell out of him, so it's okay if I rip into him a little. He won't mind. Honest!)

Alright Jen,   
(For those who do not know me, my humor is cynical which means a lot of screaming and finger pointing but in the end it’s just a rant that I’m having fun with. If this is offensive to someone please understand it is just a joke)

Let me try to explain and defend my friend John.  I know you are a very educated strong willed woman and living with you for several months, I know your personal time is spent doing things that you deem worthy.

I will start with your first paragraph.  Stealing time… What time?  The time you guys are watching TV together like a mindless drone, laughing at the jokes you have heard countless times in other sitcoms, talking about how you like a particular character in this TV drama and rambling about it for hours and hours afterward.  Does the show Friends and Scrubs ring a bell?  Would you call this quality time spent together?

TV, books and crochet are activities hence the word ACTIVE.  What WOW or any other game brings is interactivity. In a book the story is already laid out for you and you are vicariously living someone else’s life.  In a game you are control of the life and making decisions that govern how well this character evolves and competes with others, and god knows John could use some kind of decision making in his life even if it is in a pixilated world.

Would it be any different if he was a mechanic and spent this time in the garage building a motorcycle or hotrod? If he was doing the laundry and re-arranged the towels differently then what you are accustom to would you not complain about his folding skills? If he spent his every waking hour with you, would you not complain that he needs his own life and you need some space? The question you need to think about is before John started playing WOW what was your major complaint about him then?
 
I’ve been married for almost 12 years and alive for 36 and this is what I have noticed from both being married and watching my parents ... People get old, gas prices always go up, heath insurance is a joke, it’s always easy to pick on a world leader when living in a free country and wives will always complain about their husbands.  Truth be told, I said it, the cat is out of the bag. Come one everyone say it with me “Wives will always complain about their husband” Their we have said it, it’s kind of an eye opening isn’t it.

So pick your poison cause in the grand arena there are husbands that cheat on their wives, drink till they drop, neglect there fatherly responsibilities, get in to fist fights at the local pub, get arrested and much much more. If you can’t think of any others, then I suggest you turn on the local news. You live in south Florida, I’m willing to bet that within the 1st 5 min of the news there is a story of someone’s husband, boyfriend, or ex-husband that did something catastrophic.

You should be thanking your husband for picking a hobby that keeps him home in the house, with in ear shot and around in case there is a real problem. You should be thankful he is not out getting into trouble.

Don’t get me wrong, if he is neglecting his child, work, and you front yard grass is 8 inches long or he takes a 5 day vacation from work to sit in front of the computer with a 24 case of coke and a bag of cheetoes gaming away and only getting 2 hours of sleep a day… then yes, congratulations you actually have a real problem.

Let the guy have some fun, life is too short.

P.S. If you are OR thinking about scrubbing the grout out of your neighbor’s house I would suggest seeing a doctor cause your OCD has gotten way out of control and that my friend, is a real problem.

Love you guys miss you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, Richard,

My old roommate, husband to a wonderful woman, father to 3 beautiful children. (So I guess all your time wasn't spent gaming then, huh?) Discounting your political preferences, there's nothing bad I can say about you. About your comment, well, you're right. The fact that John is there if I need him (read paragraph um, somewhere in the middle, about the spider killing) is wonderful. He has never put the game over me or Sprite in many years. (Now, if you want to get into Diablo territory which I thought we buried years ago, you'll have to admit we had a problem.)
I have gotten over my Friends addiction and even stopped Tivo-ing old episodes (I mean, even I get a little tired of the Ross/Rachel cycle), but Scrubs remains a favorite (which you really should watch since Dr. Cox and you are remarkably similar-in a good way!).
My confession is, I have gotten used to having my evenings to myself. I use my treadmill, read, write letters to Sprite, campaign for literacy, the time is pretty much well spent. We've settled into a routine which I am very comfortable with.

I am completely aware of the levels of addiction and what it could be like and I'm very happy to say John is nowhere near that. He understands his priorities and he knows what comes first. (Did that just sound redundant? Yes, yes it did. Should I fix it? Maybe later.)

Oh, and one more thing I actually don't mind about the game. This game gives John a chance to be with his friends, even those who live states away. This game keeps him connected with you (one of our beloved friends) and others who have joined your GUILD. (That was correct wordage, right?)

I cannot fault him that. I cannot fault you. You two are both devoted fathers, husbands, and men. I am proud to have you both in my life. So, I refer to the title of this post when I say it's okay to hate the game, not the players.

I do take exception with one of your comments about controlling your character. Yes, reading a book is passive and you live vicariously through someone else's words while reading. However, controlling your character in a computer game is also passive (well, maybe passive aggressive since you all like to whoop ass on other players) since none of it is happening in real life. (There are also limited choices since everything your character does relies on the server's programming--ooh, that sounded geeky! Anyway, your character can only do certain things.You do not have the ultimate power. You have the power the server allows you to have.) There are people who live their entire lives as meek, understated individuals, afraid to make their own choices and live a reality, so they choose to enclose themselves into a virtual safety blanket of characters and power, none of which is real, and none of which will help them deal with actual society.

That is my problem with the game. While I can read and get into a book, and become engrossed with the characters, the book has a beginning and an end. The book ends, and I am back to reality, and the dishes are still not done, dang-it. With WoW, the game never ends. And I think this is where the addiction happens. Players get caught up in the game and don't know when to put it down since there is no ending. There is not really a way to just get up and say, "You know what? I'm done. I'm calling it a night." Nay, nay. There are more quests to be done, more enemies to slay, more characters to beat the ever-loving crap out of. (Reminds me of clubbing days when you saw the partiers who could not come to terms with calling it a night. They stayed until the owners or homeowners kicked them out.)

Maybe if WoW had time limits, and you were only allowed to get to certain areas within a 24 hour time span, us spouses and significant others would be more accepting of this pastime. (But then we wouldn't be able to complain about it. Life would be without drama. We as wives would have absolutely NOTHING TO NAG ABOUT!!! Scary stuff, that.)

And now, unlike the game, this response must end.

I must get back to the dishes and the laundry and the grout cleaning, and crap, there's that spider again..

With much love and respect, (And a guilt trip-it wouldn't kill you to visit!)

a Wife Aggro