Thursday, February 22, 2007

Now for something I would never admit in public (yet it’s on a blog – go figure):

It begins on a Sunday afternoon in a quiet suburb with a man far too old for video games in the midst of an epic battle which, if victorious, would beat a game that has consumed way too much of his time over the last few months.

That man would be me. So? I’ve done worse things with my time. Like spending an afternoon stuffing children’s clothes with rags to make small bodies, then splattering them with fake blood and putting them on the driveway for a Halloween crime scene, a dazzling display seen by maybe 3 trick or treaters that night, the slowest Halloween of all time. And I’ve spent countless hours recounting the minutiae in my life for a blog read by, as far as I know, two people, including me. I know how to waste time and it never bothers me.

So I’m on the last boss in a game called Zelda: Twilight something or other, and this stage is 30 levels or so and if you quit you go all the way back to the entrance of the castle and start it all over again and whoever designed that needs to have 78 hours removed from his/her life for no good reason. I’m in the last battle where I’m swordfighting this very large bad guy who apparently was born with a cutlass in his hand, and it’s really not all that much fun by this point. I’m down to 4 lives but I’ve hit the boss at least a half-dozen times so I figure I’m close. Then my son Bryson comes in (I play the Wii on my computer since the monitor has inputs) and wants me to download a Weird Al song. He sits right next to me and I’m trying to parry and he has the gall to speak to me, mentioning something about music and a song and downloads and now he has maybe 2 percent of my attention, which is just enough for me not to see the boss make a move (which I am usually able to block) and now I’m down to 2.5 lives, so I say, "Look, I’m kinda busy here, can it wait" as my hero onscreen struggles to his feet, then I move him away from the bad guy, escaping like a wussy. And Bryson says how he was thinking about buying the album and his friend Cody has it and I mumble something about borrowing the album, so now he's got 5 percent of my attention and the boss hits me again. Down to 2 lives. and Bryson continues on about some frigging Santa song and so I give up and go for the pause button. And since the pause button is so small and badly located on the controller, I look down and the boss nails me with a full blow. Down to 1 life. Game paused. "Bryson, what!? Do you see what I’m doing here? I’m in the middle of a boss fight. You KNOW what that's LIKE. I just needed a few more minutes, I mean, what is your hurry. Is this really more important than what i'm doing?" Now, 99.9 percent of parents would rip m a new one about now. But for the few who have been a this point, only to be bothered by a young child begging for a moment of attention, I know you understand. But yeah, I apologized. And downloaded him the stupid song. And still beat the game.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Hey, Tori Spelling – you know that duck rattle you wanted for your baby on the way? Don’t worry. Taken care of.

Tori did me a favor – hell, she did all of us a favor – by making her baby registry very easy to find. The upscale baby boutique, Petit Tresor in Beverly Hills, posts its baby registry online (peteitresor.com), so you can indulge anyone pretentious enough to desire a $4,000 crib or $750 onesie. Is that fabulous or what?

Tori, like everyone,wants many things for her baby. Tori, unlike everyone, can afford to buy the store if she chooses to. But then what would she unwrap?

As I perused her list of 55 items, I briefly considered Dr. Brown’s Level 2 Nipples, wondering what one had to do to qualify for Level 1 nipples (and then wondering what the difference was between Level 1 and Level 2 nipples, and then wondering who the hell was Dr. Brown, and what made his/her nipples so damn good that you would want to buy them). The nipples were just $8, but maybe buying nipples for Tori is a little too personal.

I was drawn to the Mobi Cam Ultra Video Monitor, but what if Tori used it to put her baby on the Net? Do we really need videos of another Spelling? Let me answer that: No.

Also on the registry – a $500 Petit Tresor gift certificate. This is probably so TV producers who always hated her suggestions. On anything. Even her own baby stuff.

But what I needed was something cute. And cheap. Mostly cheap.

And there it was. A duck rattle. For $13 (plus an additional Petit Tresor-like $8.95 for shipping; better include some designer bubble wrap for that price). I filled out the form, included a nice note, and sent it on it sway. If you’re looking for the $13 duck rattle on the list, forget it. It’s gone. But there are still the Leaping Life Rings for $26.

I am not sure if Tori will send me a lovely thank-you note, or if one of her assistants will jot off a quick “Cease and desist all communications with Ms. Spelling” email.

But if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.