Do Wii have a problem? Or maybe it was time for a new TV...

Mishap #6

Life is not always rife with mishaps. Sometimes you have a run of luck. And of course, a lot of how you interpret things lies in your perception. Is your bag of luck half empty or half full?

I was lucky this Christmas in that I was able to snag a much-coveted Christmas item: a Nintendo Wii. My son was watching episode after episode of Super Mario Galaxy demos on YouTube, and the Wii was the only thing he truly craved for Christmas. If I hadn't been able to get one through a retail connection, he would've been fine with it, practical child that he is. But I wanted to get this for them... and admittedly, I really wanted to play Wii tennis myself.

If you know anything about the Wii, however, you know that the early days of the console were riddled with mishaps. In attempts to hit home runs, bowl strikes or knock out opponents in a virtual boxing ring, many people have inadvertently flung their Wii-motes into their televisions (sometimes smashing them), or into light fixtures, pets, friends, family members, and furniture.

In fact, there is a web site dedicated to this phenomenon. It's called Wii have a problem. Depending on one's sense of humor, mood or sleep schedule, you might find it hilariously funny or slightly macabre.

It does have some lessons for us, however. One could be: Don't drink and play the Wii. Or, Wiis and toddlers don't mix. Or, Remember, it's just a game -- BACK UP for heaven's sake!!!

I have hit my TV slightly, but there are no injuries to report yet.

Bogglific Backtalk

Mishap #5

Every mom, single or otherwise, needs an outlet. Dads have what... golf, ESPN, WingHouse?? Of course, every dad is different, just like every mom. Some women shop. Some women get their toes done. Me, I play Bogglific on Facebook. Or at least I did... until last week.

Until Hasbro chose to put the squeeze on the one frivolous thing in my life that has brought me so much happiness. For word nerds the world over, online Bogglific -- based on the Boggle game -- wasn't just a game. It was a full-on escape from our cares, our responsibilities, our jobs, in some cases... (I almost always played at night, for the record, in case my boss is reading this). :D

It was a little portal of pleasure through which we slipped, temporarily transformed into word superheros. We trained and honed our skill at visualizing words backward, diagonally, and in ever more twisted configurations. We stockpiled our ammo of small but obscure words -- like sei, hast, ort -- and we marveled at all of the places our fellow Bogglers came from -- Canada, the U.S., Singapore, Ireland, Australia, the Maldives. We raced each other against the clock.

But then the clock ran out on us when Hasbro decided the online version was too much like its physical counterpart. Granted, I do think intellectual property should be protected to a point. Money does stimulate creative thought. But so do open source emporiums like Facebook. And imitation is the sincerest form of flattery (and PR).

Most of us Bogglers simply hope that 1. Hasbro will work out some sort of deal with the creator of Bogglific, Roger Nesbitt, or 2. Roger will alter the application enough to satisfy Hasbro.

But don't just take it from me that Boggliphiles are passionate... Here are comments from just a few of the MORE THAN 2,000 MEMBERS of the Bogglific Petition for Hasbro.

Todd (Minneapolis, MN) wrote

Hasbro, if you take this from me, you are no longer my HasBRO, you are my HasENEMY! Don't ruin my fun.

Stone Hedge (India) wrote

HASBRO!!!!
I was introduced to this mind blowing game of Bogglific here on Facebook. In my entire 32 yrs of existence, this is the best game I have come across. Please keep this on so as to provide exposure to as many new people as can be. This will eventually help you in the long run, morally as well as economically!!

Katie (Michigan) wrote

My dear Bogglific,

I will miss you very much. I will always remember the good times we had together. The late night trysts. The hours of homework procrastination.

Thank you for all you have given me, especially my oddly huge vocabulary of three-letter words.

Love, Katie

Jan Brick (Boston, MA) wrote

Dear Hasbro,
I've become absolutely addicted to Boggle by playing Bogglific. I've gotten other people hooked too. I've bought Boggle games as gifts. It's the best game ever invented! With Bogglific I can play Boggle with my kids on the opposite Coast. It's a huge loss to so many people! Please reconsider.

Sarah Small (Knoxville, TN) wrote

Like many people, we bought the actual Boggle board game for Christmas BECAUSE we love playing on Facebook so much. Please don't take it away!

Adam (London) wrote

The mind boggles at Hasbro's stupidity

Lisa Dawson (Ann Arbor, MI) wrote
Without Bogglific, how shall I waste my time? At least this keeps me off the street and away from crack. Thanks Hasbro, guess I will have to be an addict on something else.

Joe Persico (Saint John, NB) wrote

Petition signed by Joe Persico, of Moncton NB, Canada. The 860th best player on bogglific.

Boggle is the only thing Im good at, and without, I pretty much suck. Hasbro, if I could personify you I would punch you in your corporate face.

Good day Sir

That pretty much says it all...

Valuable Lesson Learned: If you toy with word game addicts, be prepared for a slew of three and four-letter critical words.

Boggle cube graphic by Ken Sim, posted to Bogglific Petition for Hasbro.

Why a Big Purse Can Cramp Your Style...

Mishap #4

Okay, men. This may not be very interesting to you because I'm going to write about purses. That's right. Those mysterious items that women carry around that men are afraid to touch, to carry, to reach into... YIKES!! WHAT WAS THAT?!! THERE'S SOMETHING SLIMY IN THERE!!

Then again, reading about a woman's purse habits could be fascinating to you, the way Jane Goodall might feel watching the gathering habits of the Silverback Gorilla... Or, you could be one of those European types that carries a "man purse." (To each his own, I say.)

Anyway, for those of us single moms, harried moms, or just plain disorganized women (or men) the world over, here's my advice to keep at least one part of your life a tad more sane: DO NOT CARRY A LARGE PURSE.

"WHAT?" you say. "If you are busy and have lots of things to do, wouldn't it be the reverse? Shouldn't it be the BIGGER, the BETTER?!!" (Some of the men are getting interested again). When it comes to purses, bigger is NOT better for the perpetually scatterbrained.

Why Your Big Purse is a Big Disaster

Unless you are Mary Poppins ("practically perfect in every way") and can extract bedroom furniture from your carpet bag with ease, your BIG PURSE has probably become a BIG BLACK HOLE for all things unholy and forgotten.

(If you ARE like Mary Poppins, you shouldn't be reading this, you should be doing something helpful like teaching children how to talk to penguins.)

First Step: Take an Iventory of Your Portable Black Hole


WHAT is in your big purse?? Look inside it now, and be honest.

My mother is a die-hard large purse carrier, and I would bet money that in her purse right now there are: candy wrappers, mints, used tissues, a ridiculous number of lipstick tubes, multiple coupons and offers, half of her makeup collection, some cheese crackers, an entire manicure kit, a brush, a mini pad, maybe five writing pens, some eye glasses, slips of paper with random phone numbers, and four hair implements (a couple of scrunchies and a large clip).

But the apple does not far far from the tree, as the saying goes. Before I reformed myself and bought a cute and efficient small bag, things could get quite dangerous in my large purse. There were: barretts, forgotten lipstick tubes, pens and pencils, cub scout badges, loose change, nail polish, CDs, feminine products, children's toys, two checkbooks, bills, sewing needles (OUCH), and some camping items (a compass, a thermometer).

Gerta Has Better Things to do Than to Repair Your Purse

It was a lined leather purse, and the satin lining had ripped (along with one of the inside pockets), due to the presence of sharp objects (pens, needles, the cuticle tool). Things would slip between the lining and the leather, and make it more difficult for me to retrieve them. I once took it to Gerta, our town seamstress, and she sewed half of the purse and missed the lining on the other side. To be fair, she was doing me a favor at the last minute and really just wanted to hop on her motorcycle and begin her half day of freedom.

The point being: With a smallish purse, I now KNOW what is in there!! There is a finite amount of space in a small purse, and you have to clean it out frequently. There is no hiding items in a small purse. They can be flushed out and dealt with. You must pick and choose what you put in your small purse. No throwing in your lunch at the last minute, no toting around a magazine that you may or may not read.

Valuable Lesson Learned: When it comes to purses, bigger is NOT better for the perpetually scatterbrained. In a smallish purse, your electric bill and slips of notes keep popping up like bad pennies. You will be forced to deal with your issues. Reform yourself, and go get a smaller purse. You will feel together and sophisticated, and you won't have your electricity cut off.

Purse pictured above by Rosie Ro. Too big for me, but cute.

Co-Kid First Dates: JUST SAY NO.

Mishap #3

After recently getting dumped by my long-distance military boyfriend, I decided to venture back into the online dating jungle. For the uninitiated, this is a process of weeding through bios and interesting photos. Some people are wearing dark sunglasses. Some are smiling, their arms wrapped around what could be a former girlfriend/spouse (cropped out). Some show the guy standing is his hallway, shirtless.

Now I certainly have my quirks. But successful pairing is a matter of matching someone whose quirks complement your quirks. Or so I believe.

Then again, I'm single.

I've gone on several dates now, and none with people deliberately posed shirtless (on the beach is a different thing entirely). But I have encountered a few mishaps... haven't we all? On my very first date, for instance, my date suggested (despite my subtle discouragement) that we do a co-kid date.

Flashback

I once went on a date (first and last) to Chuck E. Cheese. This is not recommended for so many reasons. On that date, the man's 3-year-old daughter wanted him all to herself, so he placated her by sitting with her at a different table from ours. Then he kept saying things like, "Isn't she so cute?" But I digress.

Ho Ho Ho... ouch!!

On this date, the man suggested we go to a park. Not a bad idea really... in theory... It probably could have been a little more romantic if the annual town Christmas parade wasn't taking place right there at the time. Neither of us knew this, and the place was packed with children, volunteers handing out hot dogs and cookies, and orchestra members warming up. Not to mention the fire truck with Santa rolling down the street.

After my date arrived (having gotten caught in the traffic jam through town), we did have a little time to talk on a bench (the other lady made room for us). Not 20 min. into our slightly disjointed conversation ("Don't climb up the slide!!"), his six-year-old son ("Stay where I can see you!") fell and hurt his lip pretty badly. It bled... it swelled. He cried.

A very nice lady found us some ice. He sat on Dad's lap. And then he stayed there, poor little guy, for the rest of the time. I don't blame him. He probably needed some Ibuprofen. He needed his dad. We tried to talk, but it was clear his son was miserable and wanted to go home.

We did meet one more time, without kids, but then we ended up talking about exes... also a road fraught with mishaps and hazards. We both knew, I think, that the mojo just wasn't there. We parted, a little defeated maybe, but also hopeful that there was someone out there who might match up with our quirks... and leave their kids with a babysitter next time.

Valuable Lesson Learned: First dates are for grownups. Also: "Chuck E. Cheese" and "date" should never be uttered in a sentence together.

Happy New Year! Fire off the Incense...

Mishap #2

I forget that my neighbors like to explode things on New Year's Eve. But we do too, so that works out fine. I tend to think of the Fourth of July as the only time it's really socially acceptable to light deafening, shrieking, tiny explosives in the street. No one comes to the window; no one calls the police.

This year I forgot again, and we were staying at home (one does that with a 7-year-old and a 9-year-old and when one is single). So I was unprepared, without ammo. But my boys, ever resourceful, checked the pantry and spied a box of sparklers and a brown paper bag with a few leftover fireworks and even more sparklers.

That night, we joined forces with our generous, firework-loving neighbors across the street. We lit our small leftover poppers and gladly accepted the little bags of snaps the neighbors gave us. The boys ran around happily, throwing them at each other's shoes.

"Let's get our sparklers!" they said. My neighbor had already commented on the ones in the bag. They looked strange. They were all wood, but with treated ends, like sparklers. Ever the practical type, she queried, "Why are they made of wood? Wouldn't that burn? I've never seen any like that."

We tried to light them. They didn't seem to catch. "They must be duds," I said. "Let me see that," she said. She sniffed. Her husband sniffed. "These are incense!!" she concluded. We laughed. We wondered why they were in the bag with poppers and a few metal sparklers. We still have no idea....

The kids gladly accepted the colorful sparklers our neighbor gave us, and we enjoyed the subtle hint of incense mixed with the acrid smell of smoke bombs. The margaritas helped too.

Valuable Lesson Learned: The mind has a tendency to group things together when they seem alike, but it's important to note the differences. Also: Brown paper bags in our pantry can contain all sorts of weird combinations of things.

Super Mario Fiasco

Mishap #1

A few weeks ago, my boys, inspired by the plot of the Nintendo game Super Mario Sunshine, decided to recreate part of the action in their own neighborhood. Sounds harmless enough, yes? Just a simple game of pretend perhaps.

In Super Mario Sunshine, Mario has been falsely accused of spreading "sludge" or "goo" all over the tropical paradise town of Isle Delphino. I didn't know this, because I don't play this game. I know this now.

"Sidewalk Paint" vs. Paint on the Sidewalk...

Son X (age 9) came to me early in the morning on the fateful day, asking to use all of the rest of a bottle of cleaner because he wanted to fill it with some sort of concoction (glue? dye? I hadn't had an entire cup of coffee yet...) to spread around "outside." This was met with a decidedly negative response. He mentioned paint -- I mentioned the word NO several times. I talked about the severity of defacing property, and how hard it can be to clean concrete.

I then remembered that we had a bottle of something called "sidewalk paint." It was water soluble. Perfect! Problem solved. "Use the sidewalk paint," I said. "No, you CAN'T put it on the SIDE of the house," I said. "It's SIDEWALK paint; it goes on sidewalk."

We had an understanding. So I thought. I went back to my task of the hour -- whatever it was -- I don't remember now. Maybe folding clothes, maybe writing an email.

Dabbling in the Dark Side...

They used the pink sidewalk paint, son X and little brother-sidekick son Y. Then they decided to try something else: the small can of exterior trim in the garage. Like Dark Mario, the real perpetrator in Super Mario Sunshine, the young punks decided to spread their "paint-like goo" all over the sidewalk, our driveway, neighbors' driveways, even on some of the neighborhood park equipment -- which desperately needed to be replaced, but was still graffiti-free up until now. It was off-white paint, thankfully, but it didn't match the concrete white. At some point in my homebody reverie, son Y fessed up to the crime down the street...all down the street. "Son X told me to do it!!" he tried as an excuse.

Graffiti Artists Learn Crime Doesn't Pay...

I dragged the perpetrators to Home Depot. Unfortunately, at Home Depot, there were no "Floods" (the mechanical hero of the Mario game which tidily cleans up the "paint-like goo") on sale. I consulted with the paint department staff, who suggested a large bottle of "Crud Kutter" and a large wire brush.

I ran into a middle-aged couple I knew, who laughed at my predicament. Their kids were grown.

Back home, we mixed the Crud Kutter with water. We sprayed it in the most critical areas: neighbors' driveways. We scrubbed, we rinsed (with a giant tub of water I transported down the street in the back of my van). We scrubbed and scrubbed and rinsed and scrubbed. We got some of the mildew off of the sidewalks and some of the paint. A neighbor girl (who had nothing better to do) helped us. Most of the neighbors were gone, doing last-minute Christmas shopping and Christmas events on a Sunday afternoon. Most of the evidence is still there. It was likely oil-based.

We told some neighbors. We could have told more... I wondered if the Home Owners' Association would fine me for this. I took the boys' games away for a week. I talked about vandalism and scared them with threats of the law and police. I told them I could get in big trouble for their misdeeds. Guilt is always a good tactic in cases like this.

Valuable Lesson Learned: Put the paint OUT OF REACH and emphasize the severity of vandalism.

Hurry to Sleep Now, Your DS Will Keep Now…

Here’s a thought: People have long used media of one kind or another to lull themselves to sleep. In the past, the entertainment media of choice were books, radio and TV.

As I sit here in bed with my laptop literally in my lap, I wonder if the choice of medium will change again. Laptops are a little clunky to sleep with though.

I’m sure people have been putting themselves to sleep with a good book (or a dull book, depending on your level of insomnia) for centuries. In early America, I’m sure that book was mainly the Bible. Later, a variety of books, newspapers and magazines were readily available.

In the 20^th century, we added pulp fiction, comics and magazines of all types to this. (I picture the kid hiding under the covers with a flashlight and his favorite space alien comic.) Lately, I’ve been reading “The Elephants of Style” (a stylebook for writers and editors) just before I doze off. I’m not sure if I’m retaining any of the lessons in there, but it’s a good sleep aid for some reason. (And not to say that it’s dull either – it’s actually quite funny for a stylebook.)

I also favor trashy women’s magazines and crossword puzzles. Crossword puzzles almost always put me to sleep if I do them in bed.

When radio became a popular in-home entertainment media appliance, I’m sure people put themselves to sleep listening to their favorite radio programs or popular music. We’ve all seen images of families gathered around a refrigerator-sized radio, listening to news, music and radio dramas at night.

When I was a little girl and I stayed with my grandparents, I have sweet memories of falling asleep next to my grandfather, listening to baseball games on a.m. radio. I also remember a sleep-over at a friend’s house, hearing music and radio noise all night long. She couldn’t sleep without it.

Live music is another option. We know moms and dads having been singing lullabies to their kids for centuries.

And then there’s TV. Was it about 30 years ago or so that people started putting TVs in their bedrooms? I’m sure Johnny Carson, Jay Leno and David Letterman have put countless numbers of people to sleep – no offense to them.

Entertainment media is just that – entertainment. It’s an escape from reality, from our routine of chores and responsibilities. It helps us wind down… and it becomes habit forming, which helps us get in the zone for sleep.

Personally, I find sleeping with TV and radio intrusive and jarring, but that’s me. Now that we’re well into the digital age, I wonder how many couples are checking and programming their PDAs on either side of the bed before dozing off to sleep. Or how many bloggers do what I just did and blog in bed. Who knows, maybe they’ll even create a sleep-inducing video game… something with sheep that gets slower… and slower….