The Etch A Sketch
I am sure you remember the Etch A Sketch. In our day,
it was one of the most sought after, high-tech toys of its time. One knob controlled the vertical movement, the
other controlled the horizontal movement and with a little practice a kid could produce
a work of art that had the potential to rival a Stone Age outline produced by a
Neanderthal. When you completed your sketch or finished
your attempt at printing block letters, all you had to do was turn it upside
down and shake it…
and the silver screen would appear blank again, enabling you
to start yet another work of art. I
remember well that I was totally baffled as to how it functioned. It may have been my most amazing and awesome
toy while growing up.
The times, they are a-changing, and today my 4-year-old grandson (Nicholas) is infatuated
with a different toy. It is called the Wii,
and his favorite pastime is to play either of two Wii games, Star Wars or Raiders of the Lost Ark. If his mother would permit him, he could
easily play these games non-stop, all day long for weeks at a time. With his total concentration devoted to the Wii’s on-screen display of high-tech
graphics, Nickers becomes spellbound and absolutely infatuated with his progress
each time he plays. Something tells me that he would find the old Etch a Sketch about as dull as a lesson
in adding compound fractions.
The main components of his favorite game are two hand-held controls but half of the living room houses the rest of the computerized
apparatus. Recently, Nickers (who had not yet reached his fourth birthday) asked me to play a Star Wars game with him on his Wii. He placed the device on the left in my one hand. Then he placed the device on the right in my other hand. His only directions were, “Follow me, Pappy.”
He got a tad upset with me from the get-go as I tried to
look over the objects thrust into my hands and attached to my wrists. The gizmo on the left had a guide module on
top to set direction (forward, backward, right, and left) and two buttons or
triggers on the front labeled “C” and “Z.” The direction was controlled by my
thumb, but triggers “C” and “Z” were operated by my pointer finger.
The gizmo on the right consisted of a cross-like selector on
the top area with a large button “A” located just underneath. Below those were
three more buttons, labeled [-], Home (with a cute little house on that button),
and [+]. Holes resembling a sound speaker of some sort
were located below the three buttons, followed by two more buttons labeled #1
and #2.
I honestly have no idea what function any of those buttons
served.
At the very bottom were four lights with raised Braille-like
bumps next to them. Again, I have no idea concerning their purpose. I just prayed that any radiation coming from
those lights would not affect my pacemaker.
From the only guidance and direction given to me, the
purpose of the game (I assume) was to navigate through as many obstacles as you
can, slay as many enemies as possible, don’t get bitten or killed, don’t fall
off any cliffs - and the computer will add up your score to see how good you
are.
Keep in mind, Nickers is just a kid. He started out by kicking, jumping, ducking
and swinging an imaginary sword (I’m referring to his own actions here) at the
same time his controlled character was going through the exact motions that
Nickers was personally demonstrating. I
got out of breath and felt heart palpitations just observing him, but I’m sure
he burned at least 9,650 calories in the first ten seconds.
About twenty seconds into our game, I started to giggle and
totally forgot my initial assignment. Meanwhile, Nickers was slaying attackers,
jumping on huge rocks, ducking, kicking and using his vine (or rope) as if he
had been doing this for decades.
“Follow me, Pappy,” he continued. My giggling escalated when he screamed, “Watch out for that red spider,” and “To swing on a rope, you have to push ‘C’ two times.” He apparently forgot that his pappy is colorblind and had no idea that a red spider was present on the screen. I never found button “C” either until the game had ended. As his commands increased in volume, so did my loud, uncontrolled laughter.
“If you want your man to jump, you have to hit button ‘Z’
twice,” he shouted. Do you realize how
difficult it is to discern between the sounds of the letters “C” and “Z” for a hearing-impaired
grandpa? I never did locate any correct
buttons. Every one of my character’s
moves was wrong, every time.
With his fervor mounting, he began to shriek at me with increasing
decibels and proceeded to give me more commands. This, in turn, not only caused me to roar
aloud and snort with vigor, but may have given ground for some bladder leakage
(all too common for grandfathers experiencing enlarged prostate glands and
shrinking urethras).
All the while, Nickers was getting more and more frustrated
with his pappy because he was forced to hold back his character and wait for me
to catch up. Five minutes into the game,
he turned his character on me and kicked me over a cliff. I don’t know why he
just didn’t cut me in half with his sword, but I’m sure he was capable of that feat,
too.
If you’re not familiar with this game, the computer software
will bring one’s character back up to the top of the hill. But Nickers was ready and eagerly waiting with
a chop, another kick, and a belly bump that sent me right back over the
precipice again. This went on for
another two to three minutes, and I finally asked him why he turned on me.
He gave no verbal answer.
With total disgust, he just kept beating the crap out of his pappy’s
character, who was only trying to help Nickers’ character through the maze from
the very beginning.
After slaughtering more enemies and feeling more frustration
than any soldier during any war in the history of mankind, Nickers finally
glanced at his grandma and asked, “Baba, will you play Wii with me?”
Final outcome - Baba was even worse at this game than I was. Nickers started beating the snot out of her
character within the first 30 seconds of their game.
Nickers will rarely ask his baba or pappy to play with him
anymore. I wonder why?
God, I miss that Etch-A-Sketch!
I can’t wait to buy one at a yard sale and then show Nickers how I can print
the name “Pappy” on that silver board….and then I’ll make it disappear. I am positive he will be impressed.
