Act 1-Death of an xbox
A green light blinks. The disk spins...and spins. The light blinks, once, twice...maybe...solid. The message on the screen is the same.
Machine: "Blah blah blah-error-blah blah-incorrect disc inserted"
Me: "No way. It's just a scratch on this disc, and the five others I've tried."
(Denial)
Machine: " Blah blah blah-error-blah blah blah-cannot read disc"
Me: "Goddammitt! no! nO! NOOOO! I've-got-all-weekend-no-wife-OR-kids!You- are NOT doing this to me now! Do you HEAR ME!! Work! WOOOOOORRRRRKKK!"
(Anger)
Machine: " Blah blah blah-error-blah blah-read error-cannot play
Me: "Okay...give me just a couple more hours, PLEASE, I only need a few more hours. Then I'll give you a few days off. You'd like that wouldn't you? I'll get all of the things done that I promised I would do. Just give me a few more hours...for old times sake? What do you say?"
(Bargaining)
Machine: Green light blinks, disc whirrs. Offering a few moments of hope. It could work it could work it could work. Promising me. Promising hours of lost entertainment.
"You're a Jedi" it says,
"a star running back for a few hours. You will triumph, win the super bowl, save the world, the galaxy, and get the girl(s)." The light is continuing to blink, offering the the possibility of one last adventure in the world of action and superlative victories.
Like the beautiful, yet cruel vixen at the bar. We do our dance. I offer the lame line, she accepts the drink, we talk, laugh (the disc keeps whirring), a second drink is purchased (the disc spins faster) she whispers in my ear ("You're a Jedi-save the galaxy") It's all in my grasp, she's coming home with me...
The same message appears on my screen (she's out the door without even getting/giving a phone number)
bupkus. I'm alone. I new this is how it was going to turn out, but I still had hope. I'm alone.
(Depression)
I turn off the xbox, stare at the blank tv screen for ten minutes, then I turn the tube back on and watch an hour of SportsCenter. Somehow "Bah-dah-DAH, Bah-dah-BAH" is comforting, and I read a book as I go to bed. The xbox is dead, I'm 38 years old, I'll be okay.
(Acceptance)
Act 2-reflection
I was listening to an obituarial biography of James Thurber last month on NPR, which focused on his most famous short story "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty." This story, later made into a film starring Danny Kaye (disowned by the author), tells the tale of an ordinary man actively day dreaming fantastic adventures to escape his seemingly mundane life. The line between fantasy and reality becomes blurry.
(This is a link to the full text of the story)
http://www.all-story.com/issues.cgi?action=show_story&story_id=100
As I thought about the story I realized that being a Mitty in 2008 is more the norm than the exception. It is becoming easier by the day to live day dreams without the inconvience of having to imagine anything. Video Games, Youtube, internet porn, fantasy sports, tmz etc. give us opportunities to go beyond dreaming, and into faux-living in alternate worlds that are meant to compete for attention with our 'ordinary' daily lives.
Before I continue, let me assure this is not one of those technology-is-ruining-our-lives-and-we-must-ignore-the-boxes-screeds. I still love video games, Youtube, my fantasy teams etc. We need brief escapes from 'real life' whatever our situation is, and the accessibility allows us to share some of our fantasies and adventures with others.
For example, I've become a full-blown baseball fan, and gain solid real-life friendships through fantasy sports.
My question is how much easy fantasy is too much? Are we at a point where we value our cyber/imaginary triumphs more than our real ones.
"Honey, don't ask me to take out the garbage, I'm leading my team to our fourth straight Super Bowl win, this means Dynasty, do you understand?! Dynasty!!!" I say this like I'm kidding during one of my Madden marathons, but some of the tension and triumph is definetly real. I don't want to give this up for something as mundane as the garbage.
Am I the only one that feels this way?
Act 3-A call to action
Six months after my xbox died (I've been surviving on PC games until I get an xbox 360 this summer) I realize that I am taking more pride in my virtual accomplishments than my real ones.
Now what?
Do I quit cold turkey? hell no, I LOVE my fantasy baseball team, and a few hours a week of FEAR takes some of the edge off stressful days of work.
However..I want (and should) be proud of real life. My family is amazing, I love my job, and there are real adventures to be had.
So I vow to live a little more in the real world-and focus on those lessons and accomplishments-the Mittyesque portions of my life will be diversions, not the main focus of my day.
I'm going to:
- Be a co-coach of my son's tee ball team (I have never coached or played baseball before)
- Ride our motorcycle at least once a week (weather permitting.) More on this later
- Celebrate at least one accomplishment at home and work per week.
- continue this blog.
How about you? Anyone willing to join me in moderating the Mittyization of our society, and looking at what is happening in the here and now?



