Much like Zeus with Athena, I woke up this morning with a fully formed blog post sprung right from my head. I'm not claiming to be a god, or this post a goddess, but it's creation does rank with the mythical. Worship as you see fit.
I've never been a good video game player. In fact, I've never made it past the first level on the original Mario Brothers. Todd would soar through that blasted thing and I would sit there, so frustrated, stuck at level one. I'd keep trying. For a good long while. Then when I couldn't feel my thumbs, I'd go to my usual position of Couch Cheerleader. I'd do the same with that Crash Bandikoot (sp) thing. Ooooohing and aaaaaahing, being amazed and exasperated in tandem. I do it now, with his much more sophisticated games. I'm still really a twelve year old in many ways.
It's easy to get disgusted when you/we watch people excel, comparing those imaginary societal high scores with what feels like your last life on the first screen. What's not easy is tiring your thumbs out giving everyone thumbs up just for playing the game.