I have a problem with my Pokewalker. It’s not the fact that I sometimes forget to put it on, thus not registering my steps, nor even the fact that I often forget to return my little darling to my DS, and thus spend 60,000 steps on gaining only one level. My problem is that my Pokemon doesn’t love me.
Sometimes he does. JarethY, my shiny little Dunsparce – can you think of a Pokemon more unworthy as a shiny? – cheers me on when I’m at the gym, stepping madly, and I remember to press the button between songs. He has a tolerance, I know. He’ll cheer every 1500 steps taken within an hour. I need to time my burst of adoration wisely, for maximum effectiveness.
But sometimes my little close-eyed rock-bug doesn’t even seem to know that I exist. Can he not see the extra steps I take, just in the hopes of achieving an iota of his affection? Does he not comprehend that, after dinner, all I’d really like to do is play some little Flash-based game and maybe think about calling it a night? Does he understand that maybe, just maybe, 13 flights of stairs on my way to work is just a little bit too much to ask?
No, with Pokemon it’s always give, give, give! But put him back in the DS and he’s right as rain. He’s happy to be there, and emotes on command, even if it is a bit weird because he doesn’t have legs. Put him in the Pokewalker and he becomes a domineering exercise automaton, built on input to maintain output and about as difficult to please as a post-colostomy arthritic using a thunderbox in a cyclone.
I know he’s imaginary. That doesn’t lessen my pain.
On the bright side, I did finally manage to watch the Televid movie version of The Hogfather today. Each character was exactly as I’d imagined, except Mr. Teatime, who was just as sinister, but a little hard to take seriously. Well, that and I thought Ridcully was supposed to be more fit than the others, given his proclivity for sports. And where was the Librarian??
Watching it with 3 non-Pratchett readers was an education in itself. I found myself explaining aspects I hadn’t even remembered I’d remembered. I guess a childhood spent scouring fantasy after fantasy finally comes to some good after all. Fiction with real-world applications - 1, ‘lost’ time creeping up to bite me in the ass - 0! Take that, statistics!