Thanks, Comrade

I don't play video games anymore. I had a Nintendo in junior high [who didn't?] and a Sega Genesis in college [too much free time] but I gave away all those entertainment systems before we got married. I briefly flirted with World Cup 1998 and Tiger Woods Golf, but since then I've gone without.

I don't play video games because I could easily become an addict. I know guys my age who spend hours each day playing PS2 and X-Box. I refuse to become another statistic. I have too many time wasters in my life to succumb to another one. But now:

"Father, forgive me, for I have sinned . . . "

I found Kelly's old Game Boy the other day; yes, a sixteen year-old, LCD, handheld Nintendo Game Boy. For some reason, she's held onto it for all these years. It was packed away in one of our moving boxes [um, from two moves ago]. There's only one game for it: Tetris. But that one game is enough. I've been on a Tetris kick, picking it up during any lull in my day. I can't get enough of it, and it's starting to mess with my mind. I'm seeing shapes in my head and have this innate desire to stack things together really tightly. Plus I've been scouring iTunes for Russian-sounding music.

I might need a twelve-step program to get off this thing.