1) talking to a video camera is an unbelievable awkward-awareness amplifier. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable doing it, but I'm going to make an effort to try to get more so. An Adam Savage I'll never be, but maybe with some practice I can at least be a Jamie Hyneman.
2) yesterday I spent a half hour playing tetris for the first time since that business with my arms a while back. This brought two (more) things to my attention:
a) I'm really out of practice. It took quite some time to get back up to my (still a bit slower) post-bidirectional-rotation speed. I am somewhat comforted that bidirectional rotation was not something I had to give specific thought to; it just sort of happened.
b) I may have to forego any tetris action in the future. It may just be coincidental, but the inflammation level of both wrists was a bit higher than "normal" -- or, what passes as normal since that trouble a while back, anyway. I'll have to do a little experimentation to see if there is a causatory relationship here, but I'm worried that button-oriented gaming may be outside the feeble grasp of my age-addled body.
the interface is very nice. Shiny and bubbly in an OSX-inspired sort of way, yet it doesn't really seem copied.
the tiny little rumble as you move your Wiimote cursor over a clickable element is a really nice touch (pun intended). Tactile feedback is sweet.
the speaker in the Wiimote is pretty inspired; now the sound of a tennis ball hitting your racket seems to come right from the racket.
it is amazingly satisfying to bowl or pitch a fastball using real-world motions to do so -- at least until you injure yourself, or throw a 94 MPH Wiimote through your plasma screen.
Gamecube games require a Gamecube memory card to save, completely skipping over the built-in storage the Wii has.
there's no way to return to the Wii interface when playing a Gamecube game. A restart of the system seems to be required.
you cannot close the Gamecube memory card bay door if there is a memory card in it.
it is not at all obvious which way discs need to be oriented when inserting them. Half the time I get it wrong, and the other half I have to give it serious thought first.
if you do insert the disc the wrong way, it doesn't spit it back out. You have to try to launch the game and then manually eject it if it doesn't work.
the Wii system menu includes News and Weather channels that won't be activated until December and January respectively. If you try to use them, the error message only says a system update is required, not that the services aren't active yet. Upon trying to update the system it says there are no updates. It seems to me that it would be more appropriate to have the necessary system update install said channels in the menu at update time, and not taunt us with unworking functionality until then.
Despite the flaws, the Wii truly would have been worth freezing oneself for those agonizing last 3 weeks of waiting for its release.
(I can't wait until some hacker gets homebrew running on this thing, as it would make a truly glorious front-end for MythTV.)
(Imagine a Beowulf cluster of Wii MythTV front-ends.)
On Saturday afternoon, D and I went to Target to pick up a wrist brace to help alleviate her post-knee-surgery pain. While she was looking at braces, I wandered over to the videogame section, where I encountered three 30-something guys who were all wearing Bluetooth ear-dongle thingies. All showed signs of being socially inept (in addition, I mean, to the aforementioned Bluetooth ear dongles, which are a pretty good sign right there), such as improper use of their "outside voices," poor sharing skills ("lemme see that," yank!), and gratuitous use of the words "dude" and "awesome." In short, the socially inept can smell their own kind.
I couldn't tell whether they were all talking to each other, all having individual phone conversations, or all in one major conference call, but they were all talking the whole time. What I could tell, though, is that they all spent a lot of time with video games, and didn't have a lot of time left over for grooming or laundry.
While D was paying for her brace, I had the opportunity to see what they were buying. Here's the list:
One copy of World of Warcraft,
One large bottle of Tylenol P.M.,
One twelve pack of Zest brand bar bath soap.
I'm not sure what they had planned, but doesn't it sound like they were in for one heck of a Saturday night?
I went and saw my doctor this afternoon, and after running through the symptoms I'm experiencing, he scowled and double checked his clip board.
"Hmm," he said. "There's just one more thing I need to check."
At this point, I dejectedly turned around and began dropping trou.
"Whoa there!" he said with a chuckle as he grabbed my shoulder turning me back around to face him. "Not so fast.. that's not what I need to check."
At this point, relief washed over me, and if I weren't already flushed from my fever, I would've been from embarassment.
He then placed his stethoscope (the one he apparently keeps on ice) on my chest and commanded me to take a deep breath.
"Mmm hmm," he mumbled concernedly. "It's just as I feared. You see, you've got the Rockin' Pneumonia. And as if that weren't enough, you also have quite a case of the Boogie Woogie Flu as well. You haven't by any chance spent some time in Las Vegas recently have you? If you haven't, I really can't recommend it, that place is a shithole..."
I quickly interrupted him. "Yeh, I was in Vegas a couple weeks ago... I know what you mean... Shit. Hole. So... is there anything I can do?"
"Well, for this type of fever, there's really only one cure.."
At this point, I once again dejectedly turned around and began to drop trou.
"Whoa there cowboy," he interrupted again. "Who do you think I am, Brokeback M. D.? What I was going to say was, 'for this type of fever, there's really only one cure: cowbell.' "
"Cowbell? But, I'm already taking 500mg of cowbell," I protested.
"More cowbell. The only cure for this fever is more cowbell."
At this point, I woke up in the waiting area at Walgreens, where I had fallen asleep waiting for my prescriptions to be filled.
The pharmacist called me up to the counter, scanned the folded over white bag and said, "These little white ones? These you swallow." He then held up a bag of the largest yellow pills I have ever seen. "But these yellow ones..."
I simply held up my hand halting him, nodded my head dejectedly and turned around and dropped trou.