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Thursday, January 8, 2009

WiiCovery Woom

My kids are threatening to get me the Wii Fit for my birthday. The name Wii is a clever pun made up by people who think of English as a substitute language for people who don't use twenty dollar bills for Q-tips. It is pronounced “We” and means, “We will own your grandmother before your hip replacement heals.”

I wouldn’t worry, but these kids are old enough to find ingenious ways to get the money. They are fully capable of selling tickets and offering to broadcast my workouts via webcam to people in a position to share my humiliation worldwide or to the inmates of Folsom Prison who need just one thing like this to send them into a full Jailhouse Rock and Revolt frenzy.

For the last few of you who were involved in brain surgery or afterschool detention when the Wii Fit hit the shelves and are in a Wii Frii state, this is an exercise program that can determine, through your participation and cooperation, precisely what happened to the last piece of pecan pie that was in the refrigerator just yesterday.

The machine reflects your image on the television screen as an iconic picture called a Mii that is a computer determined reflection of your innermost fears. It sees you when you’re sleeping and it knows when you’ve been drinking whole milk. Back in seventh grade when we drew unflattering pictures of Fat Elaine, we got a visit to the principal’s office. This electronic fellow generates a quidmillion dollars in sales and markets another zillion units every time you waddle across the pixels.

The most frightening idea is the nauseating list of exercise opportunities that are available. I don’t know if the thought of watching my pudgy onscreen caricature rolling into yoga’s Downward Doggie position is more frightening, or the idea of getting stuck in a Hula Hoop loop. All I know is that the first time that wretched machine is foolish enough to flash my weight or body mass index in high definition on my widescreen television where both teenage boys and the Dachshund can see, it’s going to lose some mass of its own.

Now that’s Wii-assuring.


Blessed said...

Ah... the joys of not owning a television, I don't have to worry about anyone buying me a WiiFit!

Nancy said...

But, not to worry, my pal, YOU get to control what your Mii looks like. Mine is svelte, blonde and bowls a 248. There, there, now, don't you feel better?

the Bag Lady said...

You could always cheat and put your dog on the sensor pads - then the Wii would tell you to gain weight, wouldn't it?

Melanie Hooyenga said...

I really want a Wii!