My husband has a new love in his life and it’s driving me insane. This new relationship is taking up all his time and energy, when he should be spending both of these on me. No, it’s not another woman, but you already saw through my ruse didn’t you? In fact,I’m talking about a bird. In fact, I’m talking about multiple birds. In fact, I’m talking about multiple angry birds. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Angry Birds game; it was all the rage a couple of years ago I think.
At my house, we’re not exactly right on top of current trends. We don’t like to be manipulated by the corporate superpowers who sit around a board room table and decide what we’re going to like this year. Here’s an example. If someone had told you fifteen years ago that you would let yourself be seen in public wearing bulky, plastic shoes that feature big holes all over them, you would have told them they were crazy right? But I’ll bet if I looked in your closet I would find at least one pair of Crocs wouldn’t I? Or maybe you have one of the knock offs. Even the child laborers who manufacture these knock offs are wondering what the hell is wrong with people, that they can be tricked into buying shoes that are already broken. I saw some on sale at WalMart last week and I was tempted, but I held strong.
I digress; back to Angry Birds. I’ve never played the game myself, but I’ve watched and heard Franco playing. I don’t really care that he plays the game, but it kills me that he needs the sound on. From what he tells me you actually do need the sound on, it’s not just a matter of enhancing your enjoyment of the game, it’s an integral part of the game. That’s what he told me, but I have since found out that’s not true. If I ever find the mute button, we’ll be having a little silence!
When I was a little girl, I used to love watching the neighbours’ little boys play with their trucks and tanks, their child-sized weapons and their G.I. Jo’s and whatnots. It’s true that a lot of clever people put tons of creative brain power into marketing these toys, but at least they were, for the most part, silent. Any sound that emanated from that play was made by little boys and some little girls too, and the idea was to sound as manly and macho as possible. Little dudes trying to simulate the ka-pow of trucks smashing together, the throaty sounds of powerful engines and the rat-a-tat of machine guns. These little tykes have since grown up and have graduated to the cacophony of stupid, laughing, screeching birds. Maybe it is a blessing that they don’t have to try to make these sounds themselves, and I don’t think there is a judge in this world who would convict some poor crazed spouse for murdering a 50some-year-old man trying to sound like an angry bird. Even if they did convict, there would definitely be a “by reason of insanity” in there somewhere.
From what I understand – which is blessedly very little – the object of the game is for birds to kill off pigs. You, the player, are the birds and these god-awful sounds are coming from you, or more precisely, from your avatar(s). Should you kill off all the pigs you claim a prize, such as a great big egg. Really? If you don’t kill them all, the pigs laugh at you. Aw, that’s gotta hurt.
What makes the whole thing worse is that when I complain to people about it, they’re all like “Angry Birds? Nobody plays that anymore.” As I said earlier, we are not the kind of people to just jump on the bandwagon the minute a new trend comes along. Well, actually, I myself, am that type of person, but my husband is not. A couple of years ago, we switched to a modern(ish) cell phone only because the cellphone company phoned us to say that they would no longer be supporting analog phones. You remember those don’t you? They’re about the size of a brick and weigh about as much too. We once had to take the brick in for some servicing at the cellphone store and the young guy at the counter called everyone over to have a look at it. You would have thought it was an artifact uncovered at an archeological dig or something.
Runic writing on the tomb would likely read:
“King Franciscus was buried with this ancient telephone
because of his refusal to be parted from it in life. A curse shall be cast upon anyone who dares to remove
it from this place of interment.”
Sorry, I got a little carried away there. What really happened was that Franco had accidentally locked the phone and couldn’t remember how to unlock it. Nobody at that store had ever worked on one and it was a major dilemma trying to fix our problem. “Dude, you wouldn’t have this problem if you got a phone out of this century.” said the young man. I do stand by my man and I did this time too, if you count standing five feet behind and slightly to one side as standing “by”. I was not embarrassed at all and I didn’t beg him to buy a new phone. No I did not. Okay, yes I was embarrassed and yes I did beg him to get himself a new phone. I was so glad when the phone company called and told him he had no choice but to upgrade. Don’t go thinking that we have an iPhone 3000 or whatever they’re up to now. It does have internet capabilities, but we don’t bother with that newfangled stuff.
I just got off the phone with my friend who asked, quite reasonably, if I wouldn’t mind texting her my home address. My answer, of course, was that we don’t do the texting thing. “Would you happen to have one of those pen thingies and perhaps something that would allow you to write on it? … Yes, like paper, exactly.” I wasn’t embarrassed by that nor did I beg my husband to enable the texting app or whatever on his phone. Okay, once again, yes I was embarrassed and yes I did beg. My husband’s mother texts for heavens sake!
Our land line is just as bad. A person calls and just starts talking, like I’m supposed to know who they are. Am I supposed to guess or something? Oh, Call Display…yeah…we don’t have that. Could you take less than two seconds and just tell me your name now because my level of embarrassment depends on how well I know you.
Here’s another example of this hellish backwardness. A caller tells me they’ve been trying to reach me for forty minutes, but my line has been busy. How is that possible? they ask. Well, that’s what happens when I’m on the phone with someone for forty minutes. Oh, Call Waiting…yeah…we don’t have that. Who is this anyway? Oh, Call Display…yeah…we…oh bugger off!
In the interest of keeping this blog as accurate as possible, I had wanted to learn how to play Angry Birds. So, I used my trusty Google and put in Angry Birds. An incredible amount of sh–t came back in the results and I decided that accuracy is somewhat overrated anyway.
My kids bought me an iPod 4 or 5 for Christmas last year. I love my iPod. It e-mails and texts, as long as I’m somewhere that I have access to WiFi. Still, I feel like I’m almost up to date.
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