Men and the "Nothing Box"

The most boring date of my life was when my date took me to an arcade and I spent two excruciating hours watching him play video games. I definitely gave him the "let's be friends" speech after that, and frankly, I didn't even care that much.

So how is it I married an on-line gamer?

Rob's latest thrill of choice is Lord of the Rings Online. He loves the graphics and the story line, the endless hours of bashing spiders while yelling, "Baruk! Hadda! Idaryu!" Or rather, watching his dwarf bard bash things.

Recently, his high-powered gaming computer went on the fritz, so he's having to make do with his laptop. Since it's just not up to standard, she spends a lot of time crafting instead of fighting.

Yes, crafting. Rob pushes buttons; he watches as his dwarf runs for 10 minutes across the countryside (unless he gets it a horse, then he watches the backside of a pony for 10 minutes as it carried his dwarf across the countryside.) The dwarf gets to town, where it picks up it's mail--stuff his buddies send him to craft with. Then he pushes more buttons and his dwarf runs to a temple or craft house or something--they look alike to me. then he pushes more buttons and sits, mesmerized, while his dwarf swings a hammer for no apparent reason since he's working with gemstones. this continues until the computer has decided he's had enough and declares he's "made" something.

I don't get it.

The other day, however, my friend Ann found a video that explained it all: Men and the "Nothing Box."



One of the things I love most about Rob is his incredible mind. Whether at work or writing, teasing the kids or coming up with a killer pun, he's got this incredible knack for managing details and making them fit in the big picture. If the "nothing box" is the price to pay, then I guess I can live with that.

Just don't take me to the arcade.