Ty learned some valuable lessons today in his quest for a PlayStation 1 controller. In case you’re not up to speed with electronics (I’m only just coming out of my cave), PS1 is the original and is considered prehistoric. I learned this about a month ago. I’m sure Ty’s electronically inclined friends think he’s way uncool. He knows this to a point, but he’s so happy to be part of the craze, he doesn’t care. (A friend of his the other day said, “Your mom doesn’t let you play T games?” [That’s “Teen” to the uninitiated.] “That sucks.” Really? Am I that out of touch?)
I wasn't happy about the PS1 acquisition, in case you were wondering. Ty bought the whole shebang plus games at a neighbor’s garage sale in June. I didn’t find out until late that afternoon because he was so sure I would be furious. I wasn’t, but I wasn’t happy. When it comes to virtual life, I’m a self-confessed Luddite. Oh, we love You Tube around here, and I watch trailers on Blockbuster.com, but I am not into boys—and it’s mostly boys—spending hours on end trying to control a race car, or shooting Star Wars characters, or even snowboarding. Half an hour is barely okay with me, and at other people’s houses, I have no idea what parents allow or if they care. Around here, I make Ty read for half an hour to earn equal time. He can also do math, but he always chooses reading and usually easy reading at that.
Anyway, Ty decided he needed a second controller (for his friends that will never get to play video games here), and he decided pawn shops were the way to go. I told him we would not drive around and that he would need to make some phone calls first, and he would need to do the talking. Bless his heart, he did. He learned about the Yellow pages, how to say thank you at the end of the call (no, you don’t just hang up), and how to check off the shops that don’t have what you need.
At last he located a shop that had a controller. I had promised him I would take him, so off we went. He paid exactly $3 of his allowance money (I likely paid at least $8 in gas but oh well), and I told him he could test it at home to see if it worked. He was ecstatic.
Alas, we think it doesn’t work. He tried it every which way but all the images just sat there, waiting for a functioning controller. His disappointment was palpable, but he didn’t even mention the loss of $3 or expect that maybe I could pay for it. He knew it was truly his bad luck. And when I told him we couldn’t return it to the pawn shop (could we?), he just sighed.
In an effort to bolster his frayed euphoria, I suggested Craig’s List. Like, as in posting a want ad. “I’ll bet you get someone who wants to give it to you, Ty,” I said. He was skeptical, but we posted an ad—our first ever foray into Craig’s List—and then he went off to his grandma’s for the weekend. (And what we’re doing without the kids is another topic unto itself.)
Lo and behold, I got a call and an email within the hour. Both parties have PS1 controllers to give away. Ty will be thrilled when he finds out. Now I’m just a little worried we may be inundated before the weekend is out.