Like every hot-blooded American child, I played Nintendo games. When we got our first PC in 1992, I spent my fair share of time playing Jones in the Fast Lane, Sleuth, Oregon Trail, and Commander Keen. But as I grew into adolescence, I lost interest. And for years I hardly thought about computer games at all, except for an occasional late-night Tetris binge.
And then I got married and my relationship with computer games quickly became antagonistic. Those of you non-gamers who are married to gamers will know exactly what I'm talking about.
Anyway, Abe decided recently that I needed to spend some time playing his latest computer game love, Skyrim, so I could see how fun it was. I've always resisted his attempts to drag me into his games, contending that I have way better ways to spend my spare time, but he looked so cute and eager that I couldn't resist.
Well. It was not fun. It was stressful. Just navigating the guy around the screen required massive amounts of concentration. There were arrow keys and letter keys that did stuff and then mouse movement and all those mouse buttons I didn't even know existed. And the whole time I was worried about bad stuff happening. What if someone tried to hurt me? What if I fell off the cliff? What if I got lost? What if I did something bad and got in trouble?
Finally, I got stuck in the basement of some creepy building in a village and begged Abe to let me quit. The thought of having to expend problem-solving energy towards problems that didn't actually exist was exhausting to me.
And I guess that's the clincher. I spend enough time in my real life solving problems. I don't feel the need to invent more to solve.