For the better part of the last decade or so, one of the most common ambient noises in my life has been chatter about Pokemon. (That and Boo singing inappropriate show tunes — of which there are many more than one might think.) Anyway, one of Boo’s closest friends is Pokemon obsessed. I mean seriously obsessed. I’ve spent a lot of time with this kid in my car and in my house. And as a result, I have listened in on countless hours of conversation between Boo and her friend about Pokemon.
This is what I remember about those conversations: “Oh my God! And then Pickachu . . . Blah . . . Blah . . . Blah. . . Blah . . . Blah . . . Blah . . . Hah! It was awesome!” So after hundreds of hours of Pokemon conversations all I know is that Pokemon has a character named Pickachu. That’s the entirety of what I’ve retained. I’ve managed to tune out the rest.
That now seems like a monumental mistake.
Even though I am technically old enough to be a grandmother (don’t get any ideas, Boo), I am also super shallow and try to keep up with the latest pop culture trends. So now that Pokemon Go is sweeping the nation, I had to jump on the bandwagon — or at least awkwardly hop in the direction of the bandwagon.
Since I hate to be the very last person to adopt a trend (although second to the last is fine), I joined several million other Americans who have downloaded Pokemon Go in the past few days. What makes me different from every other Pokemon Go downloader is that I think I’m the oldest person who has attempted to play the game. The operative word here being “attempt.”
If Boo were here, she could probably tell me how to play, but with her on the other side of the country, I have had to figure it out for myself. The first Pokemon capture was easy. I signed on, created my avatar, saw a creature appear next to my laundry hamper and bopped it with a cartoon ball. Therapeutic!
From there, however, it was straight downhill. I took the dog for a walk thinking that I would be able to bop creatures all over the place. Apparently, the creatures knew I was on the hunt because no creatures appeared for bopping ’em on the head. Not even Little Rabbit Foo Foo. (Which should totally be the next Pokemon creature. You’re welcome, Pokemon Company!)
So home I came to figure out what I was doing wrong. After running a search for a Pokemon Go primer and coming across an article noting a recent surge in searches for Pokemon porn (WTF? They’re already naked!), I figured out how to read the map and concluded that I would likely have more luck in the area near my grocery store.
So today I headed off to the grocery store – cell phone in hand. I surreptitiously logged into the game while sitting in my car — marginally mortified that I, a middle aged lawyer, was spending my valuable time trying to locate and throw things at cartoons. My mortification quickly turned into frustration as I kept getting kicked off the server. I started imaging the headline after I was arrested in a Pokeman server rage incident. “Poke-Mom Goes to the Pokey!” (You’re welcome, New York Post!). I finally gave up in frustration. Plus, the ice cream was melting.
So, in three days of playing, I have now captured a grand total of three Pokemon. At this rate, by the time I can go to the Pokemon gym, I will be in a walker.
But at least I saw this:
Living with a house of Pokemon crazed people, I can say I truly enjoyed your little essay. Then I got to the bottom and the picture made me laugh until tears shed. Yesterday I went down the little alley by Tomantia, walking toward the post office. I thought a hip new restaurant moved in. There were at least 20 people just hanging out there. Then as I got closer, I realized, they were all capturing. Apparently Pokemon run rampant on certain parts of Park Street.